Every participant in the competition was required to wear an auxiliary Combat Detection Device. This new regulation, conceived by The Grandmaster on a whim, left every contestant utterly bewildered.
Especially after the official announcement, all the participants were even more confused.
To protect the lives of every participant as much as possible?
Was this serious or a joke?
On the arena, life and death were a matter of fate, and fortune was in the heavens. This had long been the consensus among everyone on Sakaar. How could The Grandmaster, who pioneered the Arena spectacle, suddenly start caring about the contestants' safety?
Even the most foolish person could sense something was amiss.
They questioned, but the officials remained unresponsive.
"The final interpretation rights for this Championship Tournament belong to the Arena."
Annoyed by the persistent questions, an Arena staff member directly pointed to the rules of the competition, delivering a crushing blow to those attempting to cause trouble.
If you don't want to fight, get out.
For the elusive hope of returning home, the strong individuals exiled to Sakaar looked at each other. Ultimately, they grudgingly accepted and put the so-called auxiliary Combat Detection Devices into their ear canals.
However, starting from the qualifying rounds, this so-called Combat Detection Device didn't seem to have any effect.
Those who were meant to die still died, and those meant to be crippled were still crippled.
Qualifying rounds, group stage.
After two rounds of elimination, besides Beckett, who was the sole contestant directly advanced to the top sixteen knockout rounds, the other fifteen who secured tickets to the knockout stage were all ruthless individuals who had fought their way through mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
"So, what's the point of this thing?"
In the VIP box, Beckett, standing by the window and overlooking the Arena, fiddled with the Combat Detection Device in his hand, completely puzzled.
Woz had tested it; the device in his hand was genuinely just a detector, nothing special.
"Who knows? Maybe The Grandmaster's conscience finally kicked in and he doesn't want to see contestants die," Hela said playfully, crossing her legs and casually swinging her calves. Beckett couldn't help but frown.
He had a feeling Hela was hiding something from him, but he didn't want to ask.
Just like the origin of this VIP box, Hela had suddenly brought them here.
Not to mention, the view from here was indeed excellent.
"For example, like this."
"Bartholomana wins!"
As soon as Hela finished speaking, a victor had already been decided in the Arena.
In the first match of the top sixteen to top eight knockout rounds, Bartholomana, a contestant from the western part of Sakaar, kicked Dronio, who had inexplicably collapsed, severely injuring him.
In the second round, he seized the opportunity to finish off his opponent, killing Dronio on the spot.
Of course, in the second round, Beckett once again saw the Combat Detection Device on Dronio's ear suddenly emit an electric current, causing him to lose the ability to move in an instant.
Beckett raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips.
Hela cast her gaze upon the loudly celebrating, bearded Bartholomana, her heart filled with pity.
"Is even the referee someone from Bartholomana's side?"
"Is the championship rigged?"
The Other, who had been feasting throughout, puffed out his cheeks with a worried expression.
Beside him was Jennifer, chatting with Zola.
As fellow members of the Xiangluo Tribe, they had found some common ground after becoming acquainted, especially when the matches showed signs of foul play.
"I don't know the specifics, but I did hear a rumor that the champion of this Championship Tournament has already been decided internally."
"I wonder if it's him."
Due to his previous interaction with Beckett, Zola was directly assigned by The Grandmaster to stay near Hela and Beckett.
"Mr. Beckett, please prepare yourself. Your match is about to begin," a electronic voice in the VIP box suddenly announced, reminding Beckett to get ready.
"It's starting, the long journey," Hela yawned. Knowing the outcome already, she found these rounds to be a guaranteed ordeal.
She didn't know why she agreed to stay and watch, thinking it was a sign of a flawed mind. With this time, she could have already returned to Asgard.
"Long?"
As his opponent, a rather unremarkable figure, walked out from the contestant's tunnel, Beckett, staring intently at the arena, punched through the VIP box window with a single blow.
Fragments of glass rained down along with the descending figure, smashing onto the ground. His stern face appeared on all the viewers' screens through the broadcast.
"Hey! You're that guy who got a bye to the top sixteen—"
Before his opponent, wielding a meteor hammer, could finish speaking, his chest was pierced by a beam of light...
The speed of victory was unimaginable.
Even the referee, who already understood that the championship was rigged, couldn't react in time.
What the hell?
With that kind of strength, why would there be a predetermined winner???
"Victory, the victor—"
"Wait a moment."
The referee, who was about to announce the match results, was directly interrupted by Beckett.
"Fighting one by one is a waste of time."
"All of you, come at me at once."
With his arms crossed over his chest, standing right in the center of the arena, Beckett tilted his head up. His calm words provoked the nerves of every contestant.
"Uh, Mr. Beckett." The referee, who had entered the arena with a mission, was struggling to control the situation.
This was especially true when he heard the uproar from the stands, a roar so loud it almost shook the roof of the arena.
They were all spectators who loved to stir up trouble.
This was the very first tournament, and not only was the champion predetermined, but the predetermined champion was now personally crashing the event?
"Can't make a decision?"
Beckett's lips curved upwards, and that subtle arc sent a chill down the referee's spine.
"Let him fight."
After hearing The Grandmaster's voice in his ear, the referee immediately opened the entrance channels for all fifteen contestants.
The clamor within the arena escalated even further!
Especially when the fifteen powerhouses, who felt insulted, descended onto the stage simultaneously, the deafening roar of the crowd reached its peak.
"Oh, they're here?"
Boom!
An invisible wave of energy, with Beckett at its center, instantly swept through the entire arena. His golden hair flew, and the explosive pillars of energy even drowned out the roaring crowd!
The Grandmaster, sitting alone in the VIP room, struck a thoughtful pose and fell into deep contemplation...
He now understood why Thanos and Odin were so anxious about their children.
If he had a son, he would be anxious too.
So, the question was, Should he give Beckett a different rib?
The previous reward had only been a finger bone. If he exchanged it for a rib, it would make for a more delicious soup, and the Divinity within it would be more potent.
The Grandmaster was a little reluctant, but thinking of The Collector, who was now in an unknown state and missing, he gritted his teeth and dug out a rib...
The universe, the Void.
The bruised and limping Collector returned to his base, sniveling and crying...
Still working overtime.
I'm so miserable, boo hoo.
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Translation by: randomtranslator.com
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