"Well done," Lin lan said, casually tossing the file onto the coffee table. "My very first match, and they throw me against a boss-tier opponent. My luck really is outstanding."
"The greater the risk, the greater the reward," Nancy replied calmly. "If you defeat him, your reputation will explode overnight."
Lin lan glanced at her. "Reputation doesn't feed me. I care about tangible gains."
Nancy smiled faintly. "If you win, you'll receive a soul crystal forged in the sixteenth century. It was created by ten necromancers and is said to contain thousands of souls. The Church once labeled it the Stone of Evil and attempted to seal it away—but failed."
Lin lan's interest was immediately piqued.
"That sounds promising," he said. "Anything tied to souls is useful to me."
He paused, then asked, "And what do you get out of this?"
"Thirty million dollars," Nancy replied lightly. "The Association is always generous."
Lin lan glanced at the clock. It was already two in the afternoon.
Without another word, he dismissed everyone from the private room and began conserving his energy.
As he recalled the spell Binding Soul and Restraining Spirit, death energy surged within him. Black mist gathered at his fingertips, twisting and condensing into the ancient character for Bind.
"Bloody Polar Bear…" Lin lan murmured with a soft chuckle.
At ten o'clock that night, Nancy returned. Without ceremony, she summoned him, and the two headed toward the Dark Arena.
The arena lay more than two hundred meters beneath Times Square.
It was an enormous enclosed structure modeled after the ancient Roman Colosseum—circular, tiered, and impossibly vast. When fully occupied, it could seat nearly a hundred thousand spectators. The arena floor alone spanned the size of two football fields.
Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, flooding the space with blinding light. Thick stone pillars—each ten meters in diameter—descended from above, their surfaces embedded with colossal screens broadcasting every angle of the fight.
The moment Lin lan entered, a wave of heat and noise slammed into him.
Though the match was still an hour away, every seat was already filled.
Spectators whispered excitedly, analyzing the fighters, debating outcomes, and calculating betting odds.
"Sloff is winning for sure!" a heavyset man shouted, waving a crumpled betting slip. "That's the Bloody Polar Bear! Eleven straight victories! I've bet on him every time and never lost!"
He sneered toward the arena floor.
"And look at his opponent—a skeleton! A trash-tier undead! What the hell is the Association thinking?"
Another voice chimed in with laughter. "Aren't skeletons just mindless cannon fodder? The kind necromancer apprentices throw away by the dozen? Now one's stepping into the Dark Arena? Are those old fools trying to hand us free money?"
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Lin lan listened quietly, unfazed.
"What are the odds?" he asked casually. "Me versus that oversized bear."
"Twenty to one," Nancy replied flatly. "The highest odds ever recorded."
Lin lan laughed. "Then whoever bets on me will walk away filthy rich."
Nancy shot him a cool glance. "And who exactly do you think would dare to bet big on you? Besides me?"
"Then congratulations," Lin lan shrugged. "Looks like you're the only one profiting."
"If you win," Nancy added, "I'm willing to split half the betting earnings with you."
Lin lan clicked his tongue. "Still don't believe in me, huh?"
At midnight, the Dark Arena erupted.
The polar bear man—Sloff—was the first to enter.
He strode into the arena, towering and broad-shouldered, circling the ring once as he waved arrogantly at the crowd. Then he threw his head back and roared.
Bones cracked. Flesh tore.
In an instant, his body expanded violently. White fur exploded outward as a massive polar bear—three meters tall—stood where the man had been.
"Sloff! Sloff!"
"Bloody Polar Bear!"
The arena descended into madness.
Men screamed themselves hoarse, ripping open collars as buttons flew. Women flushed crimson, sweat beading on their brows. Humans and otherworlders sat shoulder to shoulder, all boundaries erased by bloodlust.
The announcer's voice boomed through the arena, thick with excitement.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Presenting the undefeated champion—eleven consecutive victories—the Bloody Polar Bear, Sloff!"
The crowd roared louder.
"Tonight, he faces a mysterious challenger from the East—the Skull Gladiator, Lin lan! Will Sloff extend his legendary streak, or will the newcomer deliver the upset of the century?"
His voice soared.
"SLOFF—CRUSH HIM!"
"Kill that pile of bones!"
"I bet everything on you!"
The noise became deafening.
Sloff beat his massive chest and let out a thunderous howl, pointing down at Lin lan with savage contempt.
"Dark Gladiator combat is for the strong!" he bellowed. "Not for garbage undead like you! I'll grind you into bone dust in three seconds and toss you where you belong!"
Lin lan staggered forward, gripping the Bloodslaughter Bone Blade.
Two black lines seemed to flash across his face.
"Big words," he muttered. "Let's see how tough you are once I break you."
Boos rained down from the stands as the crowd took in his thin, skeletal frame.
The bell tolled.
Sloff roared and charged.
His massive body tore through the air like a battering ram, the ground trembling beneath each step. As he closed the distance, his claws extended, slashing downward with terrifying force.
Cold light flashed along the edges of those claws.
Sloff grinned savagely.
Those claws had once ripped through a tank's armor plate.
As they descended—
The flames in Lin lan's eye sockets flared violently.
Then he moved.
His foot struck the ground, and his body vanished in a blur. The claws smashed into empty air.
In the same instant, Lin lan twisted, swinging the Bloodslaughter Bone Blade.
A violent gale erupted.
Crimson blade aura burst forth, blazing outward in a single arc. For a heartbeat, it was as if a blood-red sun had risen inside the arena—blinding, overwhelming, impossible to ignore.