The wind in Slaughter City had always carried bloodshed and deathly silence.
Since Tang San stepped into this hell, he had fought bloody battles for a month-ninety-nine death matches in the arena, every match a decisive kill, every step toward godhood!
No one could withstand a single move from him, no one could force him to suffer an injury, and no one could escape his hands alive.
Crushing, slaughtering, sweeping all before him! Invincible had become his name.
This prison of sin, which had stood on the continent for over ten thousand years, had been slaughtered into cowering silence by a fifteen-year-old boy. Every villain within trembled at Tang San's name.
Since that battle, everyone had been waiting with bated breath for the final, closing match.
Throughout Slaughter City, its tens of thousands of villains felt terror trembling deep in their marrow whenever they heard Tang San's name or saw the number 9528. The hellish streets and alleys, once filled with ceaseless fighting and flowing blood, had fallen into an eerie, unprecedented peace.
There was no more plundering, no more ambushing, no more killing and strife.
The villains who had spent years licking blood from knife edges and slaughtering one another had absurdly come to enjoy a brief spell of peace and security. They even remembered the mutual affection, humble courtesy, and gentleness they had long since discarded.
But this peace had never come from reconciliation. It was humiliation born of frustration pushed to its utmost limit.
Over the decades, countless geniuses had entered Slaughter City. Soul Emperors, Soul Saints, and even leading figures at the half-step Titled Douluo level had emerged one after another.
Everyone who entered this hell struggled to survive, clawing their way through the arena, fighting bloody battles with their lives on the line. Only after