“The new leader of the heresy wants to fight the ‘Beauty Beast’ to the death!”

“The Beauty Beast won’t even let go of 1 contribution point?”

“Has the leader of the heresy already fallen for it?”

“Oh, it’s not just 1 contribution point this time. The Beauty Beast might earn 50 contribution points…”

Listening to the discussions from the audience, Asho, who was wrapping his fists with bandages, showed a forced smile and said, “It seems like you’re really pretending to be weak and strong.”

“I think it’s you who’s hiding your strength and trying to deceive me,” said Igura, a fair-skinned man with blonde hair and blue eyes. “You are the leader of the Four Pillar God who dared to oppose the Bloodthirsty Hunter, while I am just an ordinary fraudster. It seems that your combat power is higher than mine.”

Indeed, before fighting Igura, Asho asked Lang about Igura’s criminal record. Almost every criminal introduced themselves on the news channel before entering, so the criminal records were almost transparent to each other. As for Igura Bokin, also known as the “fraudster,” he worked in the insurance industry and defrauded many wealthy people for a large amount of money, which led to his imprisonment. He was a mental sorcerer who possessed a series of sorcery spirits that could manipulate spirits.

Although sorcery spirits were theoretically prohibited in prison, this prohibition was only “direct” and not “complete.” For mental sorcerers like Igura who were dedicated to spiritual cultivation, sorcery spirits could still be activated through language, suggestion, body language, and other means. Like when Igura invited Asho to form a team in the hall, once Asho agreed, the sorcery spirit would silently imprint on Asho’s spirit.

It sounded like Igura had no direct combat ability, but…

Ding!

The lights around the Deathmatch Society dimmed again, leaving only the screen above the ring, attracting everyone’s attention.

“Igura Bokin bets 46 contribution points.”

“VS.”

“Asho Heath bets 1 contribution point.”

In the deathmatch, everyone only bet the minimum amount, which meant that Igura had already fought in 45 deathmatches! And according to Lang, Igura won all 45 of them!

So why did Asho agree to this deathmatch?

Because he had already agreed.

When Igura jokingly asked Asho if he would join the deathmatch, Asho also jokingly replied, “Sure, why not?” At that time, he had fallen into a trap—he could no longer retract his joke.

It was difficult to describe this feeling. It was not that his body was being controlled, but his concept was being modified. It was like having a ridiculous idea that “water is poisonous.” Asho was certain that he had to fight Igura. He did not know the consequences of refusing because the idea of “refusing” did not even cross his mind, as if even thinking was shackled.

“So, don’t casually respond to anyone’s invitation in the future.”

The Sword Girl leaned on the railing lazily and said, “You are the End-Watcher. In my opinion, you should refuse anyone’s goodwill or malice, say ‘no’ to everything, occupy everything with your own power, and rule the world with your own will, like a demon king.”

“No!”

“…You brat…”

Just as the Sword Girl was choked up, an invisible barrier rose around the ring, announcing the start of the deathmatch. As a bell rang in his mind, Asho felt as if a lock inside him had been released, and the neck chip no longer restricted them from attacking each other!

At the same time, Igura dashed forward like a cheetah, rushing towards Asho with his agile body!Asho immediately raised his arm in defense and dodged to the side, but Igura seemed to have predicted his reaction early on and swept his leg, causing Asho to lose his balance and fall flat on his face.

Even though Asho quickly recovered and stood up, he couldn’t avoid Igura’s follow-up attacks. A heavy punch hit his stomach, making him groan and almost vomit.

“Clamp your teeth,” Igura “kindly” reminded him before punching him in the temple.

Asho was dizzy and leaned against the wall, using his arms to protect his vital areas. However, Igura seemed to be able to predict all his movements in advance, and every straight punch and hook hit Asho where he couldn’t defend himself. In no time, Asho’s face was bruised and swollen, and he was running away while being beaten up.

He shouted in his heart, “Has the experience transfer not started yet? I’m going to be beaten to death at this rate!”

“It hurts so much! Sword Girl, come and beat up this blondie!”

“Sword Girl mommy, save me!”

Sword Girl said perfunctorily, “Coming, coming. The more you get beaten up, the faster the experience transfer. And don’t just take the beating, try to fight back!”

“Does fighting back speed up the experience transfer?”

“No, but it will make this death match more interesting. After all, it’s boring to just watch you get beaten up.”

Although she said so, Sword Girl was actually a little surprised.

She had expected Asho to show an embarrassing side, kneeling and begging for mercy and crying. However, although Asho was embarrassed, he also did his best: he tried to reduce his exposure to attacks by leaning against the wall, protecting his facial triangle with both hands, and quickly standing up after falling instead of lying on the ground. What surprised Sword Girl the most was that Asho didn’t cry.

As a wandering soul who had never experienced bloodshed, Asho’s willpower was unexpectedly tenacious, and he even had some psychological coping ability. He had been talking to Sword Girl in his mind, using dialogue to alleviate the pain, and he was not distracted. His defensive movements became more and more skillful, and his evasive reactions to being beaten up became faster and faster, like a sponge that was constantly learning.

Sword Girl suddenly had a feeling that even without her and the Sorcerer’s Manual, Asho could quickly adapt to this seemingly beautiful but cruel world after experiencing the pain of the initial crossing.

He was indeed the ultimate observer…

Smack!

Asho felt that his arm bones were burning like fire. Sword Girl urged him to fight back, and he was also a little angry from being beaten up. Even mud figures have a temper, not to mention Asho, who is not willing to be bullied. He has his own way of working, and he is not willing to suffer losses among his colleagues. Moreover, he has the ability to flatter, and his voice is loud enough when he takes credit. Therefore, he is also doing well in the workplace, and he was even appointed as the leader of the new game’s operation team by his boss.

So he seized the opportunity, recalled the military boxing he learned during his military training, and threw a punch with a horse stance!

“Soft and cute.”

Igura turned his head like he was shopping, with a disdainful smile on his face. He cleverly dodged his punch and punched Asho in the face.

“You!”

“You–!”

“You–you–“

Asho couldn’t even swear, and he couldn’t land a single punch.Igura’s every punch could heavily damage Asho, and Asho couldn’t dodge them no matter how hard he tried. Meanwhile, Igura easily dodged Asho’s straight punch with a slight twist.

To outsiders, it didn’t look like they were fighting, but rather acting – as if Asho was willingly offering his face to collide with Igura’s fist.

“Here comes the trick of the beautiful beast again.”

“It seems that the remaining 49 contribution points of the heresy leader will all go to the beautiful beast’s pocket.”

“Hmph, they all rely on flashy tricks. If it were me-“

“What would you do if it were you?”

“If it were me, he would immediately squat down to see if I was still breathing!”

“Although we can’t beat the beautiful beast, Master Tyger can definitely win!”

The white-haired old man Tyger quickly shook his head: “No, no, the younger generation is getting stronger and stronger. I, an old man, will sooner or later become a stepping stone for you all…”

Can you let go of the railing before you say that, old man? You’re about to twist it into a pretzel! Everyone cursed silently, and suddenly someone looked at Lona, who was nestled in the arms of a burly man: “Lona, can you see through the beautiful beast’s trick?”

“I don’t know, and talking about it won’t help. You have to fight to find out.” Lona laughed, “But I don’t want to fight the beautiful beast. He’s not my type. Don’t worry, my love, as long as you’re still breathing, I won’t look at anyone else.”

The burly man in Lona’s embrace was covered in cold sweat, barely managing a smile in the darkness.

Inside the deathmatch arena, Igura shook the blood off his fist and casually asked, “Do you know why I’ve won all 45 deathmatches in the past? My physical fitness isn’t that great, and my reflexes aren’t that fast. But why can’t you hit me, and why can I hit you every time?”

Indeed, through their recent battle, Asho had discovered that Igura’s physique was actually not that different from his own. Not to mention comparing him to a monster like ‘Diamond’ Tyger, even an ordinary strong man could suppress Igura. Yet, Asho couldn’t touch Igura anywhere except his face.

If Igura’s boxing skills were great, that would be one thing, but Asho could feel that Igura’s combat level was just average. Otherwise, Asho wouldn’t have been able to hold on for so long.

Why is it that only you can peck at me when we’re both weak?

“I’ve defeated beastmen, trolls, and goblins. They all have physical qualities far beyond mine, but they all fell in this arena, transferring their unearned contribution points to me.” Igura said leisurely, “The reason you and they ended up like this, like beaten dogs, is only one-“

“You’re all livestock.”

“Your lives have never belonged to you.”

“From the moment you stepped onto the arena, your neck was already wrapped in the chains I prepared for you. Until I squeeze out your last bit of contribution points, you are my controlled livestock!”

“The fate of livestock is always the same-“

“Bleed, skin, and then…” Igura’s handsome face looked down at Asho from above, sticking out his tongue to lick his lips, revealing a cruel smile: “Be butchered by the master into appetizing pieces!”

“Keep going, Asho Heath, don’t think about surrendering. There’s no such rule in a deathmatch. Don’t worry, I’m very gentle with livestock. It will be over soon.”

Asho straightened up, twisted his neck, and spat out a mouthful of blood: “Yes.”

Sword Girl in the stands also nodded, lazily saying, “It’s time to end this.”