A flash of golden light, and a figure appeared on the broad bed.
He rolled over almost on reflex.
The roars of lions and tigers still seemed to echo in his ears, along with something even more terrifying than the beasts' breathing: the scrape of spear against bronze shield.
It had been a pure nightmare.
Even now, his lungs seemed full of arena dust and the thick stench of blood. He could still smell the reek of the bodies left there and feel the dark, crusted blood beneath his feet, hardened over time until each grain was as sharp as stone—
And all of it had been drowned out by the thunderous, ecstatic screams from the stands.
"Go!"
"For Augustus! Kill him! Don't be a coward!"
"Kill him, slave! I bet a full ten denarii on you!"
Every second spent between life and death had burned itself into his memory.
So the moment Zhou Mingzhe opened his eyes, he nearly tucked his head and rolled away again by instinct, heedless of his heaving chest. He was trying to dodge the bronze spear that might thrust from some treacherous angle at any moment, quick as cold lightning and vicious as a snake!
An experienced spearman was terrifying when there was no room to close the distance!
Until he recognized his familiar surroundings.
The homelike furnishings, the familiar decor, and the soothing scent of incense quickly eased his taut nerves.
He was safe now—
As soon as that thought came and he relaxed, exhaustion and the hollow feeling left by immense mental strain surged over him like a tide.
There was no question about it. This time, Zhou Mingzhe had come out by "dying."
It had happened after his first experience of the "role-assimilation mode" available through logging in with his real