Chapter 73
Tang Qi had been among the first to be loaded onto the mining carts.
By the time Wen Xin noticed him, Tang Qi was already strapped into a cart and sent speeding down the track.
With the machinery’s rapid motion, the cart disappeared into the depths of an unknown cavern in the blink of an eye, leaving Wen Xin no time to stop it.
He jumped down swiftly, tapping the red panda on his shoulder as he did so.
The red panda understood instantly, releasing the aura of an A-grade mutant.
The surrounding mutant ants, which had been busy hauling humans, immediately dropped to the ground, trembling in fear.
But a few of the ants, much like the mutant rats Wen Xin had encountered before, resisted the suppression of the aura. Instead of retreating, their eyes turned blood-red, and they charged forward with frenzied aggression!
Wen Xin reached for his gun, but before he could act, the weight on his other shoulder abruptly vanished.
Ah Lü darted forward like a streak of lightning. In mere moments, it had floored the attacking ants, leaving them sprawled lifelessly on the ground.
Standing atop one of the corpses, Ah Lü casually spat out a severed limb still clamped in its jaws.
When the black, viscous ant blood dripped from its tongue, the viper recoiled in disgust and spat onto the ground repeatedly. “Ptooey, ptooey!”
Clearly, it was revolted.
The red panda, who had been eyeing the ants with interest, hesitated after seeing Ah Lü’s reaction. Reluctantly, it withdrew its eager claws.
Wen Xin quickly approached Xu Jiangqin and her group.
After a rapid examination, he found that all of them bore injuries of varying severity. Their eyes were shut, their breathing weak.
It seemed they had been knocked unconscious from the impact.
Without hesitation, Wen Xin called Xu Jiangqin’s name repeatedly, lightly slapping her cheeks.
When she didn’t wake, he pulled a bottle of water from his bag, cupped some in his palm, and splashed it onto her face.
The icy water worked like a charm in the cold winter air.
Xu Jiangqin, who had been deeply unconscious, stirred awake from the jolt.
When she opened her eyes to see Wen Xin’s face, she thought she was dreaming. Her lips parted slightly in disbelief.
Her peripheral vision, however, caught the sight of mutant ants groveling submissively on the ground. She gasped, her pupils widening in shock, utterly forgetting whatever she had intended to say.
Wen Xin was in a hurry to chase after Tang Qi and had no time for explanations.
He placed a flashlight, a bottle of purified water, and a few unopened loaves of bread in Xu Jiangqin’s hands.
“Saved you again. Consider your request fulfilled.”
He gestured toward a tunnel in the stone wall.
“Head back through that route. I left markers along the way—don’t take the wrong path, or the ants will attack you.”
Still dizzy from just regaining consciousness, Xu Jiangqin struggled to process the situation.
Before she could make sense of it all, Wen Xin had already shoved supplies into her arms.
Then, two small, indistinct creatures darted out and leaped onto his shoulders.
With a single fluid motion, Wen Xin jumped, landing deftly on the mining cart that had previously held Xu Jiangqin’s group.
Grabbing the lever, he maneuvered the cart to follow the others, speeding into the dark cavern ahead.
Xu Jiangqin was left behind, frozen in place, utterly dumbfounded.
Meanwhile, at the Minotaur Beast Arena.
Another thrilling fight had just concluded, eliciting a thunderous roar of cheers from the audience. The crowd applauded wildly for the victor who had managed to stay standing.
“Beautiful! That was a beautiful fight!”
“That loser finally got a taste of what true strength looks like!”
As the excitement subsided, the audience began to disperse.
However, a few cloaked figures remained seated, making no move to leave.
When most of the crowd had departed, strange sounds echoed from the previously sealed passages surrounding the arena.
The massive iron gate creaked open, allowing countless “people” to stream into the arena.
In mere moments, what had been a half-empty audience now became a packed, lively crowd.
On closer inspection, however, the beings filling the seats were far from normal. Beneath their cloaks, grotesque limbs peeked out—gnarled, branch-like appendages, furry claws, and sharp pincers.
Their eyes were murky and dull, yet fixed intently on the enormous screen hovering above the arena.
Though the show hadn’t yet begun, an eager bloodlust already glimmered in their eyes.
Suddenly, the arena’s lights dimmed.
Rustle… rustle…
Soft sounds came from above the central screen, drawing all eyes upward. Suspended in the higher reaches of the air was a massive shadow.
From the shadow’s form extended countless fine, nearly invisible threads, stretching outward to cover the entire arena ceiling.
These threads, crystalline and razor-sharp, gleamed faintly under the glow of a few remaining incandescent lamps.
Whether by accident or design, one of the threads snapped, falling silently. It landed on the head of a fidgety mutant below.
“What the hell is this—?” the mutant started to say.
Before it could finish, the thread adhered to its body and jerked it upward at terrifying speed.
The victim didn’t even have time to scream.
Crunching sounds echoed from the shadow as it devoured its prey. Blood flowed like juice from a crushed fruit, splattering onto the already stained arena floor. The sight sent shivers through the other mutants.
Gulp.
A distinct swallowing sound followed, and then a satisfied sigh echoed from the shadow.
In the prolonged silence that followed, the once-rowdy mutants sat stiffly, fear etched into their postures.
The giant shadow, bathed in the faint remaining light, finally revealed its horrifying form.
Eight crimson eyes glared down from on high, surveying the audience like a predator watching its cornered prey.
It was a spider—a massive, terrifying spider.
Its mandibles clicked, emitting a sound only mutants could understand, as it hissed a threat:
“On my turf, you follow my rules. No noise. No disturbances.”
The spectators collectively held their breath, none daring to defy the spider’s command.
The oppressive silence was broken by a sudden, violent pounding on the outer gate of the arena.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The mutants flinched at the sound, instinctively turning to see how the spider would react.
The spider queen froze for a moment, then fell eerily silent.
The banging persisted.
Bang!!
The noise grew louder, more forceful. The heavy iron gate groaned under the assault, and the sound of chains straining to the point of snapping filled the air.
Finally, the spider queen lost patience and spat out a web. The sticky silk latched onto the gate, dragging it open with a creak.
“You dare, Number 99! Just because you evolved to S-grade doesn’t mean I won’t eat you!” the spider queen hissed.
As the doors swung wide, light flooded the arena.
A sharp-eyed man strode in, his steps measured and unhurried.
He was alone, without any entourage. Casually, he took a high seat, crossed his legs, and responded to the spider’s threat with a flick of his gaze.
“If your Colosseum claims to offer unparalleled entertainment for all mutants, why shouldn’t I come?”
The spider queen trembled with rage. “You—!”
“No need to get so worked up, Spider Queen,” the man replied evenly. His voice was smooth, almost soothing. “I heard that you and the Ant Queen have teamed up for a lucrative project. Naturally, I was curious.”
“You know how it is—City Rose’s expenses are through the roof these days. I’m practically running at a loss. I thought I’d stop by and learn a thing or two.”
Leaning back, he clasped his hands leisurely. “You’ve always assured me that everyone in the Colosseum—mutants and humans alike—participates willingly. And occasionally, you’d toss in a few scumbags to spice things up for the audience.”
The spider queen’s massive body stiffened.
She lowered her gaze, only to find the man’s icy eyes locked onto hers, sharp as a glacier that had endured millennia without melting.
Although she was physically looking down at him, it felt as though he were the one standing above her, surveying her with cold detachment.
In the oppressive silence, the man spoke again, his tone as light as ever.
“The labyrinth combat broadcast is about to begin. You wouldn’t to keep your audience waiting right?”
