As soon as Chen Yi entered the city, a ghostly figure appeared by his side. She was a seductive woman clad in tight black leather armor, her face veiled by a thin black scarf. Her red lips parted slightly, her voice sweet but without true warmth.
"Welcome to the City of Slaughter, newcomer. I am your guide. I'll explain the basic survival rules and precautions—"
"Take me to the Hell Slaughter Arena," Chen Yi interrupted her formulaic speech.
The veiled woman's words froze. Her brows drew together in a provocative look behind the veil as she stared deeply at Chen Yi, matching his calm gaze. She seemed to know he understood the inner rules of Slaughter City.
She didn't say more or introduce herself, but simply turned slightly, gesturing, "Please, follow me."
Since his purpose was clear, she was happy to avoid trouble.
Led by the woman, the two walked through the dangerous streets of Slaughter City. Soon they arrived at a coliseum in the ancient Roman style.
"We're here."
The veiled woman turned to Chen Yi. "Inside is the Hell Slaughter Arena. Good luck."
Chen Yi nodded, striding directly into the massive doors as if to be swallowed whole.
Inside, a roar swallowed him—clashing weapons, the screams of the dying, and wild cheers from the stands crashing like waves.
The air was thick and filthy, reeking of blood and a sweet, fishy stench like chronic poison.
Within Chen Yi, his soul power worked automatically. The ultimate lightning attribute, embodying the purest yang and strength, naturally repressed this darkness and poison. Any trace of toxic gas that entered him was instantly purified by his purple-gold soul power, leaving him untouched.
Chen Yi ignored the crowd's noise, scanning the arena. Amidst angry shouts and the screeches of weapons, the last survivor raised his opponent's severed head, drawing another wave of crazed cheers.
At their feet lay nine gradually cooling corpses.
Chen Yi looked away, walking to a nearby stone counter.
"I want to register for the next match."
He approached one of the registration clerks.
The clerk looked up, finding the young newcomer. He gasped inwardly—the calm in this youth's eyes was nothing like someone coming to die.
"Codename?"
The clerk's voice was dry.
"9527."
Chen Yi gave the number provided by the Knight of Terror, Scott.
The clerk engraved the number on a slate, hurriedly asked a few more irrelevant questions, and finished the registration. He handed Chen Yi a rough domino marked "9527."
"Hold your ID. When it's your turn, light the incense stick and enter. The rules are simple: step onto the stage and kill the other nine, or be killed."
"Now, go to the waiting room and wait for your number."
The clerk spoke quickly, then looked away, treating Chen Yi as if he were already dead.
Chen Yi took the domino, turned, and headed for the designated waiting area. As he entered, hostile eyes immediately fell on him—especially on his youthful face and relatively "clean" clothes. Some gazes were filled with undisguised greed and killing intent.
To these outlaws, newcomers like this were obviously the softest fruit, the perfect appetizers.
Chen Yi ignored the stares, found a relatively empty corner, closed his eyes, and focused on adjusting his breath and state.
….
Time ticked by.
"The next participants—enter!"
A voice echoed across the hellish arena.
"8852, 8741, 9627, 7053, 2189, 4916, 3370, 1528, 6642… 9527!"
Hearing his number, Chen Yi opened his eyes, clear and calm. He followed the other nine called, passing through the heavy iron gate into the blood-soaked ring.
Noise from the stands surged again, countless crazed eyes fixed on the ten new gladiators about to put on a bloody show.
The ten quickly spread out, each standing dozens of meters apart, eyeing each other in a tense atmosphere thick with killing intent.
Except for Chen Yi, the other nine were all experienced killers, exuding a strong aura of blood. Their power levels ranged from Soul King to Soul Emperor.
Their eyes were like those of hungry wolves. After a brief assessment, more than half subtly focused on the youngest—Chen Yi—as their first target.
Chen Yi could clearly sense the murderous intent in those gazes. He moved his wrist slightly, a cold flash glinting in his eyes.
As expected, he was being taken as the "soft fruit." Fine, that just saved him the trouble.
At that moment, a dark red energy barrier rose around the ring, sealing it completely.
"Begin!"
A cold voice fell.
Chen Yi's figure suddenly vanished like a ghost.
"What?!"
"Where'd he go?!"
The assassins who had targeted him felt their pupils shrink and alarm bells ring in their minds, wanting to defend or find their target.
But they were too late.
"Pfft!"
The strong man standing behind Chen Yi's original spot suddenly froze. Looking down in disbelief, he saw a hole through his chest—his heart gone.
Blood spurted like a fountain. He opened his mouth in a strange sound and crashed to the ground.
So fast—it was beyond comprehension. Even more terrifying was the accuracy and coldness.
But this was just the beginning.
Chen Yi's figure blurred again, now next to a soul king wielding two swords, moving like teleportation. The man reacted swiftly, sensing the air shift, and slashed his blades back in a killing arc.
Chen Yi smoothly dodged, lightly touching the man's wrist. There was a crisp snap as bones broke, the short blade knocked aside. The man screamed in pain, but before his other hand could strike, Chen Yi's fingers moved up and crushed his Adam's apple.
The slaughter continued.
Chen Yi moved through the ring like a reaper. Every time his figure flickered, a short cry or stifled gasp, and another life ended.
His movements were as smooth as flowing water, never delayed. The killers fell like lambs at a slaughterhouse, often dying before they could even see what hit them.
Occasionally, someone tried to cooperate, but Chen Yi's speed and transformability allowed him to break their formation from impossible angles, taking them out in a single strike.
From the stands, the initially raucous cheers fell into stunned silence. This battle was nothing like expected—no stalemate, no tragic duel, only one-sided massacre.
Not even thirty breaths had passed.
Chen Yi's figure finally stilled in the center of the ring. At his feet lay nine corpses, scattered in various shapes and positions.
He lifted his head slowly, glancing across the silent stands, then at the glowing victory counter: "9527" recorded its first win.
Without stopping, Chen Yi calmly walked toward the ring's exit.
In the stands, only after Chen Yi had fully disappeared did the crowd erupt into an even wilder uproar. The eyes following his departure were filled with shock, fear, curses, and even more greed and jealousy.
...
Meanwhile, in a spacious room luxuriously decorated but pervaded by an eerie, bloody odor, a mountain-like figure stood silently. His back was to the door, and he wore a beautiful blood-red robe embroidered with a golden skull. The exposed skin on his neck and hands was unnaturally pale blue.
He was the ruler of Slaughter City—the King of Slaughter.
At this moment, the King was not enjoying the endless slaughter games as usual. Instead, he stared solemnly at a man in blue robes standing opposite.
...
Bonus chapter at 300 pS