After dealing with all the guards, Clark walked up to the short man who hadn't dared to do anything except shake his legs.
"Now can you tell me why the Grandmaster wants to see us—or rather, how he even knows about us?"
Faced with Clark's question, the short man tried hard to calm himself, but the fallen guards lying nearby made his legs feel like vibrating motors.
But he had no choice. He didn't know what Clark would do to him if he didn't answer—maybe he'd end up on the ground like the guards, bleeding out.
After swallowing hard, the short man finally stammered, "I-I don't know why the Grandmaster wants to see you."
Seeing the dangerous glint in Clark's eyes, the short man suddenly overcame his fear and knelt down in front of Clark.
"I really don't know why he wants to see you. He just contacted me out of the blue and told me to bring you to him. So… so I…" Perhaps sensing death, the man's lips suddenly regained their normal function.
Though he could now speak clearly, he regretted taking this job. Well, he didn't really have a choice. Refusing would probably mean not living to see the next sunrise. But still, he regretted acting so arrogant earlier—why couldn't he have just been a little humbler?
"You really don't know? Fine, I believe you." Clark looked at the man—who just moments ago had been full of swagger but was now trembling—and decided he probably really didn't know anything. That was fine. Didn't the Grandmaster want to meet him anyway? Then he'd go meet him. Clark wasn't particularly worried. After all, this was the same Grandmaster who got beaten by Thor in the movie—how dangerous could he be?
"The Grandmaster doesn't want to see us? Let's go meet him anyway," Clark said as he stepped into the ship.
To be honest, Clark had used ships in battle before, often against huge fleets—but he realized he had never actually built a ship himself. The meteor that brought him to Earth didn't count.
"Clark, do you know this Grandmaster?" Diana asked, seeing that Clark wanted the short man to lead them to this so-called Grandmaster. She assumed Clark might already know him.
"I don't. But aren't you curious? We just arrived here, and this Grandmaster immediately sent someone for us. We don't even know him, and yet he reached out," Clark said, smiling as he shook his head.
But as Clark and Diana talked, they suddenly heard the short man's voice behind them.
"Uh… the guy who was piloting the ship… you killed him."
The short man figured he might as well be honest—he couldn't fly the ship himself anyway.
Clark turned back to look at him, exasperated. Of course the pilot had a personality. If someone else tried to sit in the pilot's seat without permission, they'd probably get attacked. Fine, he'd handle it himself.
But neither the short man nor Clark could actually fly the ship.
"How about we take the bus?" the short man offered cautiously, seeing Clark's expression.
"A bus?" Clark didn't expect a place like this to have buses. But thinking about it, it made sense. While half of the planet seemed like a junkyard, the other half was clearly habitable.
With a landmass bigger than any country on Earth, it made sense that public transit like buses would exist.
"By the way, you were talking about the Grandmaster earlier—are you new to Sakaar?" the short man asked during the ride, his mind becoming more active now that he felt less likely to be killed.
After all, Clark had just taken out the squad the Grandmaster sent. If someone realized that later, he might not survive long. So before meeting the Grandmaster, he wanted to gather any useful information that might help him stay alive.
"What? You have a problem?" Clark had no interest in chatting. If this guy wasn't the only way to reach the Grandmaster, Clark would've probably smashed him already.
"N-no," the short man backed off when he realized Clark wasn't in the mood to talk. He could only pray the Grandmaster wouldn't kill him for bringing Clark there successfully.
Clark then followed the man on a tour of Sakaar's lesser-known bus system. Though it was called a bus, it was actually a large, low-end spaceship.
Each "bus" could carry hundreds of people and consisted of multiple segments flying in formation.
After circling around for a while, Clark and Diana finally arrived at the Grandmaster's palace.
Upon arrival, Clark spotted one of Sakaar's most famous sights: the heads of the planet's champion gladiators.
But maybe he had arrived a bit too early—Bruce Banner hadn't shown up yet. So instead of seeing six champion heads, he only saw four.
"Wait, why are there only four?" Clark asked, surprised.
He hadn't expected to be here before Hulk. Not only was Hulk's head not on display yet, but even the previous champion's head wasn't up there.
"What four? You mean the gladiator avatars?" The short man was confused by Clark's comment but explained, "Up until now, there have only been four champions produced, so there are only four avatars."
Then something occurred to him, and he said, "Oh, you must be talking about the new guy!
People say he's got a good shot at becoming the champion, even though he hasn't officially won yet. A few more wins, and if no one beats him, he'll take the title."
The short man looked a bit envious. The Grandmaster had said that anyone who became champion could make a request—any request at all.
"Oh? What's his name?" Clark asked, a little surprised. He hadn't expected to arrive just in time to witness the champion before Hulk.
Clark wasn't too concerned—once Banner arrived, the title would change hands. Still, he was curious.
"No idea. Everyone just calls him 'Chicken Comb.'"
"Chicken Comb?"
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