Chapter 9: Demon Arena (7)
The staircase leading to the arena spiraled endlessly upward, as if it would never end. So far, Tang Mobai still hadn’t seen the top of the tower—nor its true bottom.
The arena itself was the largest space Tang Mobai and the others had seen since arriving here. It resembled a true Roman coliseum: all around were tiered spectator stands, and at the center lay several partitioned battle stages.
Every time one of the fighters was knocked to the ground, blood spraying as they clashed viciously, the crowd would erupt in gasps, cheers, and applause—as if they were watching a magnificent stage play.
This brutal spectacle was completely alien to the peaceful society Tang Mobai had come from, and it made him feel waves of discomfort.
Deville, who had left early, was in one of the arenas as well. Unlike the withdrawn, quiet man from last night, he now looked like a hunting beast. Every punch was followed by an explosion of blood—like a lion tearing into its prey. The cheers from his section of the stands were the loudest of all. Tang Mobai only took one glance before instinctively looking away.
“There are this many people here?” Xiu Weiyi asked in surprise.
Although the tower was large with many sections, the sheer number of people in the stands was shocking—there had to be thousands. Were all of them competitors in this Revival round?
No… something was off.
Tang Mobai noticed something strange—their bodies seemed half-transparent.
To confirm his suspicion, he picked up a pebble from the ground and threw it toward the crowd. Everyone’s eyes followed its arc—only to see the stone pass right through the “spectators.”
“They’re just backdrops,” 009 said coldly, ignoring Tang Mobai’s action. “They’re not real people—just atmosphere enhancers.”
He turned to address the group.
“There are several battle modes: Duel, Wager Duel, and Death Match.”
“In a Duel, no weapons are allowed. Wager Duels are similar, except both sides must stake the same bet. In a Death Match, anything goes—only when one side dies does the match end.”
“The rewards aren’t fixed. The more impressive your performance, and the more spectators you attract, the more Soul Coins you’ll earn. Choose your opponents carefully. According to the rules, the old man can’t challenge you for three days. That means you have three days to adapt. During those three days, every newcomer has one challenge per day that cannot be refused.”
“And one free healing opportunity per day.”
At that, those who were injured last night sighed in relief. Tang Mobai, however, couldn’t help feeling disappointed.
But soon, everyone’s attention shifted as 009 produced something—it looked exactly like the red healing potion from a video game. With just one small bottle, most people’s wounds began to heal rapidly, leaving only light scars that didn’t hinder movement.
—Such incredible medical efficiency…
In the real world, the observation team was watching closely. The experts’ eyes gleamed with excitement, especially the scientists, who looked as if they wanted to dive into the screen and examine the miraculous potion firsthand.
If something like that could be replicated in reality, the speed of external wound treatment would be unimaginable.
“Everyone, calm down,” Wang Yuanzhi had to remind the elderly doctors. “Our people aren’t even safe yet, let alone in any position to think about acquiring these things.”
“We know, we know,” the scientists replied regretfully, quickly noting their thoughts in the risk assessment reports.
It wasn’t surprising—some wanted to explore the Infinite Stream platform, while others opposed it. Conflict among humans was nothing new. Seeing this, a faint smile appeared on Wang Yuanzhi’s face.
After everyone was healed, 009 turned and walked up toward the stands. Clearly, his duties for the day were done; he wouldn’t be offering any more explanations.
For a moment, Tang Mobai and the others stood there, uncertain what to do. Then, someone took the initiative—using their one non-refusable challenge privilege to attack a nearby person. Predictably, the weaker-looking ones were challenged first. It was like watching the chaotic housing selection scene from before all over again.
“Go!” Tang Mobai snapped, grabbing Xiu Weiyi by the wrist and pulling him through the crowd, away from the chaos.
They ran until they were a good distance away, panting hard.
“Th-thanks,” Xiu Weiyi said between breaths.
Tang Mobai shrugged. “No problem. You saved me in the last dungeon, didn’t you?”
“Yeah… it took everything we had just to survive that one,” Xiu Weiyi muttered, then fell silent. “So… what do we do now?”
Even though they had escaped the crowd for the moment, battles were unavoidable. According to 009, if they didn’t earn at least five Soul Coins today, they’d be dead by nightfall.
They couldn’t go without food, either. They might make do with last night’s lodging, but going a full day without eating would only weaken them—eventually leading to a slow death. In other words, they needed to earn more than five Soul Coins today just to stay alive.
But how many coins could they actually earn per fight? 009 hadn’t said clearly. Or… was there a catch?
Then Tang Mobai remembered a message from the live chat earlier—something about “betting.” Could that be related?
Maybe he could ask someone from the real world? But if no one had volunteered information yet, perhaps it wasn’t that useful to know.
While he was still hesitating, a calm voice interrupted:
“Not planning to seize the chance to earn your first pot of gold? Right now, most newcomers are still confused. If you use your newcomer privileges, you could easily pick your ideal opponent.”
“Of course,” the voice continued smoothly, “you could also wait. Let the first batch of fools charge in, taste victory and blood, and leave their scraps for you. Even if newcomers have a daily free heal, most of them will be crushed in spirit. When that happens, the smart ones—like you—can harvest the survivors.”
Tang Mobai and Xiu Weiyi turned toward the speaker—a young man with short, straight black hair, neatly framing his face in an M-shaped fringe. A few strands on the right were braided, revealing his sharp features. A pair of rimless glasses rested on his nose.
“Nice to meet you,” the man said pleasantly. “You can call me Yan Wuzhen. I’m an information broker. Sorry to interrupt your discussion—but I thought perhaps I could offer a little help.”
Tang Mobai blinked. “Do you charge for it?”
“If I said it was free, you probably wouldn’t dare accept,” the black-haired youth replied with a harmless smile. “Of course I charge—but don’t worry, my rates are very reasonable.”
“Then forget it,” Tang Mobai said with a shrug. “We don’t have any Soul Coins—completely broke.”
“Maybe for now,” Yan Wuzhen said with a gentle grin. “But that won’t last forever. Besides, there are other forms of payment, aren’t there?” He extended a hand. “At the very least, we could start by being friends.”
Tang Mobai glanced at him, then took his hand. Just as he was about to let go, his motion froze.
Something had tickled his palm.
Yan Wuzhen released his hand first and casually walked toward the restrooms without looking back. Tang Mobai discreetly glanced down at his palm, then tugged Xiu Weiyi along after him.
“What’s wrong?” Xiu Weiyi asked, puzzled.
“Nothing… Do you need to use the toilet?”
“No, not right now—”
“I know you do!” Tang Mobai slung an arm over Xiu Weiyi’s shoulder and forcibly dragged him into the men’s restroom.
Yan Wuzhen was standing at the far end, zipping down his pants when the two entered. He didn’t even look surprised—just continued his business.
Xiu Weiyi’s eyes went wide. “W-wait—! The ‘other form of payment’ you mentioned… you meant this? I’m not into that—!”
Before he could finish, he saw Tang Mobai also start undoing his pants.
Xiu Weiyi: Bro, seriously? Why do I suddenly feel surrounded by gay energy.
“Stop talking nonsense and pull them down already!” Tang Mobai barked, yanking down Xiu Weiyi’s pants himself. Xiu Weiyi struggled, but Yan Wuzhen blocked the exit. “It’s come to this—let’s all just be honest with each other.”
“Please, no! Big bros, I’m begging you!”
Someone happened to be walking into the restroom, overheard that particular line, and immediately turned around. Nope. Not dealing with whatever that is.
Xiu Weiyi couldn’t overpower the two of them. He instinctively covered himself, only for Yan Wuzhen to glance down and sneer, “That’s it? Nothing worth hiding.”
No man could tolerate that insult. Xiu Weiyi immediately dropped his hands. “Oh yeah? You think you’ve got something better?”
Yan Wuzhen turned slightly, smug.
Damn it. He really did have something to brag about.
Tang Mobai’s expression darkened. “Doesn’t count if it’s limp. Only when it’s up does it count!”
“Heh. Why would I get it up for two stinking men?”
“What, you can’t?”
“Ridiculous. I just don’t compete with small-timers.”
“So you can’t, huh?”
“You really think I’ll fall for that childish taunt?”
“You can’t, right?”
A tic mark popped on Yan Wuzhen’s forehead. He snapped, starting to move his hand. “Fine! Five minutes—whoever can’t get it up in five minutes is officially a sun-dried man!“
Tang Mobai: “Challenge accepted!”
Xiu Weiyi: “This is a bad idea…”
Meanwhile, outside—
“You said there were gay guys in the restroom? Don’t be ridiculous—” A man stepped in to check, made brief eye contact with the three of them standing in a circle doing suspicious movements, and wordlessly backed out. “Let’s… use another restroom.”
The trio instantly froze, straightened up, and pretended to just be normally using the urinals.
Expressionless, Yan Wuzhen started to question all his life choices. Maybe coming to trade with this idiot wasn’t such a good idea after all.
Xiu Weiyi muttered weakly, “Seriously though… why the hell are we even doing this? I can’t even pee anymore.”
“The livestream censors restrooms,” Yan Wuzhen sighed, sounding defeated. “As long as we look like we’re actually using them. Some intel can’t be said openly on stream.”
“But we don’t even have Soul Coins to buy your information. We don’t even have enough for tonight’s oil lamp.”
“That’s fine,” Yan Wuzhen smirked faintly. “I’m investing in your future. Tell me… have you heard of the Demon Casino?”
Tang Mobai and Xiu Weiyi looked at each other. “What’s that?”
Yan Wuzhen fixed his gaze on Tang Mobai. “You really don’t know?”
“Nope.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Fine. Simply put—it’s a massive casino run inside the Lost Paradise. It hosts all sorts of gambling projects. One of the most popular low-tier bets… is this very arena we’re standing in.”
Tang Mobai immediately connected the dots—the betting messages he’d seen in the stream chat earlier. “So the surge in viewership… they’re watching us to place bets?”
“Exactly,” Yan Wuzhen confirmed. “Just like people bet on soccer matches in the real world—they study the teams, watch replays, estimate odds. These spectators observe you through the livestream to decide which side to bet on. Your so-called ‘masters’ didn’t tell you how many Soul Coins you earn per win, right? That’s because it’s not fixed. The more attention your match draws, the larger the prize pool—and the more the house earns. Your payout depends entirely on that.”
“When you first arrived,” he continued, “some of the old ones probably attacked you, right? Maybe even forced you to agree to fight them in three days?”
Both Tang Mobai and Xiu Weiyi froze—yes, that had happened.
“Their goal is to steal whatever Soul Coins you earn during these three days.”
Xiu Weiyi frowned. “But… why are they so sure we can earn that much?”
“Because…” Yan Wuzhen’s tone turned low and serious, “these first three days are when newcomers can earn Soul Coins the easiest. The longer you stay here, the fewer coins you’ll earn per fight.”
Tang Mobai suddenly understood. “Because we’re unknowns?”
“Exactly. Newcomers are the biggest variable in any match. No one knows your abilities or your odds of winning. Before you’ve fought enough battles to reveal your hand…” Yan Wuzhen’s black eyes gleamed. His pure, inky irises rippled with excitement, like dark waves stirring under the surface.
“Uncertainty is the black swan of gambling. Fortunes rise and collapse every second—that’s what draws gamblers in. By the time the veterans understand this truth, their own possibilities are already exhausted, and the audience has them completely figured out.”
Tang Mobai asked, “So how is the prize pool divided? How much do we actually get?”
Yan Wuzhen replied coolly, “It’s a house-favored system. The Demon Casino takes a 15% service fee. Of the remainder, only 1% is distributed to the slaves and their masters. And that 1% only goes to the winning side—the losers get nothing.”
Tang Mobai had a bad feeling. “…And that 1%, how’s it split?”
“Seventy-thirty, of course.”
Xiu Weiyi asked timidly, “We get the seventy?”
“You wish. We get thirty—the slaves’ share.”
Tang Mobai’s expression twitched. “That’s basically begging on our knees!”
Yan Wuzhen looked genuinely surprised. “You kidding? There are plenty of people who’d kill for the chance to kneel! Compared to real slaves, we’re lucky—we at least get a cut.”
“You’re from Earth too?!” Tang Mobai blurted.
“Earth? What’s that?” Yan Wuzhen looked puzzled.
“Nothing,” Tang Mobai said quickly. His mind flashed with the barrage messages he’d seen earlier. A suspicion began to form. He raised an eyebrow. “So you came to us… to manipulate the bets?”
“Correct.” Yan Wuzhen’s polite mask cracked into a feral grin, his tone heating with manic excitement. It was as if the gentle exterior peeled away, revealing a beast beneath.
“Unpredictable matches always draw the biggest crowds. Just like in sports—the flashier the star, the more the audience watches. A dark horse in the arena will pull in every gambler’s gaze. And the bigger the bets, the more we stand to earn.”
Predatory hunger gleamed in his black eyes as he stared straight at Tang Mobai—completely ignoring Xiu Weiyi.
It was obvious. The dark horse he wanted to cultivate was standing right in front of him.
Mini-theater:
Tang Mobai: No, buddy, although your words are very cool and inspiring, but can you zip up your pants first?
Thank you for reading 🙂 I hope you all liked my translations. If you enjoyed my work, please consider buying me a Ko-Fi 😉
