They were all professionals, so they could tell that Hayden had no mechanical or biochemical modifications whatsoever, at least none that could be detected. For such an unmodified, unadulterated human to go into a life-or-death gladiatorial combat bare-handed, without magic, wearing only flip-flops and shorts... could it be...?
"alright."
In the end, the boss scratched his head.
"I won't take your share of the gambling winnings, provided that you are truly a hidden master who is pretending to be weak but actually strong, and that you can survive."
"Your match starts in one hour. Set the odds and start betting within forty minutes. First, fill in your name on the registration form, or write down a trendy ring name you want to shout out... Oh, right."
The boss then gestured to Angela standing behind him, "You won't do. You're a fully cyborg, right? Our gladiators must be made of flesh and blood. Why don't you go and replace at least half of your mechanical parts with bio-mechanical parts first?"
But Angela smiled and shook her head. The boss then quickly left.
Hearing his boss's words, Hayden was intrigued and secretly asked her via telepathy: "Angela, can you really replace the mechanical parts with bio-mechanical parts?"
That being said, Hayden hadn't really expected to get a proper answer from Angela. Unexpectedly, Angela actually replied seriously: "Most life on earth probably couldn't withstand this; only inorganic matter could barely endure my manipulation—Master, you've seen the scene when the peacocks and the others fell from the sky. Earthly flesh and blood are different from pure spirits."
Five thousand years ago, the fallen angels who had just fallen to Earth from outer space had to fuse their pure spirits with flesh and blood to replenish their energy, becoming hybrid beings that were half spirit and half flesh. However, Angela... she has never lacked energy.
Hayden already knew all this. But his thinking wasn't so rigid; upon hearing this, he immediately thought of another layer: [If life in this world can't withstand it, then what kind of life can? If we could help you create a life in this world that can withstand your manipulation, a living shell, wouldn't you be able to unleash even greater power?]
Perhaps, if we follow this line of thought, Hayden might actually be able to obtain the Outer God's power from Angela that could directly defeat Mithra?
However, Angela simply shook her head, remaining noncommittal: "That's hard to say. I'm not entirely sure myself."
Well, my dear, it's this same old routine again?
...Even so, Hayden still felt that he had another idea in mind, a possible direction to defeat Mithra, and his spirits lifted slightly.
Soon, the time for the first gladiatorial match arrived. Hayden also learned the name and background of his opponent in this first gladiatorial duel.
"Bad news, friend."
Forty minutes later, the boss walked over, a cigarette between his fingers, looking very unhappy.
"You're really unlucky. There's a master from another city who's here today to compete in a new shop. He, like you, doesn't use weapons. As soon as he heard there was a madman going to compete bare-handed, he immediately became interested and asked to fight you. He's a master of Qi cultivation, and his arms are as hard as refined gold. He's very powerful. You can still forfeit now."
This boss is kind-hearted.
However, Hayden found this somewhat amusing.
"See, Angela, I told you that running like this would allow us to see many classic traditional scenes."
A Qi Refining Master?
I'm a Nascent Soul level monster!
312: Classic Scene
Hayden's first gladiatorial match is about to begin.
Of course, he is still largely conducting a covert investigation, so he obviously won't actually use the name "Hayden" to take over.
So of course Hayden had to give himself a pseudonym... a pseudonym?
Hayden wasn't about to let a rare opportunity pass him by—to use a false name to swindle people and, incidentally, draw attention to his clone. So, with a stroke of his pen, he named himself:
"I'll call myself 'Gandalf'!"
He probably found it quite amusing, but unfortunately, few modern people can grasp the humor of ancient literary works from nearly two hundred years ago. In the end, only Angela gazed at him with very gentle eyes.
So in the end, Hayden was embarrassed and seriously doubted that the people of South America had any cultural literacy.
In any case, the gladiatorial games began.
"The opponent you're going to fight this time has already killed five people in gladiatorial arenas in other cities, each time by killing them with his bare hands and iron fists."
The shop owner seemed to have some interest in Hayden, this eccentric man, as he was explaining things to Hayden while smoking a cigarette before going on stage.
"And that guy is a Qi Refining expert. Not only can his fists and feet shatter stone tablets and break iron, but he's also incredibly agile and has sharp intuition. He can sense an opponent's aura and react before they even launch an attack. Among the gladiators I've seen, he's one of the top experts. Why don't you just forfeit? Once you're in the ring, it's a fight to the death. Unless one side dies, neither side can leave. But even if you've signed up before going into the ring, you can still back out."
Surprisingly, the rules of this deathmatch are quite lenient in a place like this. Hayden had originally thought that even if someone who had signed up changed their mind, they would be dragged into the arena by the staff—after all, it's a traditional event!
...In fact, based on what Hayden has seen so far, the South Americans' way of doing things, especially in the territory of the goddess Mikt, seems surprisingly "gentle." Unfortunately, beneath this gentle appearance, Hayden always feels there is something eerie about it.
So after hearing his boss's words, Hayden was more concerned about another issue: "Judging from your tone, are all the participants in these deathmatch gladiators voluntary? Aren't there any people forced to fight to the death?"
"Huh? What do you mean by 'forced'?" His question surprised the boss. "How could any gladiators fight against their own will? What's the point of watching if they fight against their own will? The audience and the goddesses won't like it."
Hayden scratched his head: "I mean, are there poor people who have to risk their lives, or debtors who have to fight to the death to pay off their debts?"
"The former is hard to say. Who can say for sure about these things?" The boss shook his head. "But no one in debt would come to fight deathmatch to pay off their debts. First of all, creditors won't let debtors die and ruin their debts. Secondly, someone with combat-level modifications would have all their modified organs removed to pay off their debts first. How could they possibly have the means to fight?"
...While the logic wasn't entirely sound, it seemed to make some sense. So Hayden nodded and didn't press the matter further.
“Once you’re on the field, you’re not allowed to back down. You’d better watch yourself. As for if you lose… well, if you lose, you’re dead anyway, so there’s nothing to say.” After saying that, the boss pushed open the door to the lounge with both hands, shook his head at Hayden, and said, “Come on stage, Gandalf.”
And so, Hayden was brought into the ring by the boss.
Angela, of course, wasn't worried about him at all, and was already leisurely waiting in the audience. However, Hayden looked around at the audience around the arena and felt that those pairs of eyes were like wolves smelling blood, while Hayden was all alone on the stage.
That's just how it is. After all, the most renowned masters always appear last. And Hayden—this Gandalf—currently has no reputation whatsoever.
Meanwhile, the ringmaster excitedly shouted from the sidelines, "Ladies and gentlemen! You're in for a treat tonight! Next up is our North American cultivator, Steel Arm! With just a pair of unmodified fists, he managed to wipe out entire families in North America, escape the Mars Group's pursuit, and come here for a life-or-death duel. He even won five rounds unarmed in the Lima arena! Wow, he's a born killing machine!"
"However, his opponent today, Gandalf, is also a madman who fights a death gladiatorial combat without weapons, equipment, or even bio-modifications, relying solely on his bare hands. Which of them will emerge alive from the arena? Ladies and gentlemen, place your bets now!"
Well, this has turned into a gambling and entertainment industry.
As the announcer spoke, the so-called "steel arm" entered the arena, facing Hayden. In the instant his opponent took those few steps forward, Hayden glanced at him and discerned some of his intentions.
This was a man in his thirties with an Asian face, but his skin was tanned dark. He was shirtless and wearing white training pants. Hayden observed that he walked with heavy steps and bent knees, his eyes were like lightning, and his temples were bulging. He was indeed a master of internal energy cultivation and had grasped the essence of internal martial arts.
More than anything else, this surprised Hayden: "I didn't expect there to be a Qi Refining cultivator in South America... Oh, right. The host just said you killed someone in North America and escaped here."
Despite the Protoss's seemingly arrogant behavior in New Seattle, North America still has some semblance of normal society and laws. Even the police dared to cause trouble for Karen before.
"Aren't you an outsider too?" Steel Arm said expressionlessly. "As long as you're not a cyborg, the arena here welcomes you. Besides, Qi Refining cultivators are practicing the magical path of modifying their own lives and raising their life level. So the people here like us a lot—although I've never seen them practice on their own."
The so-called Qi cultivation, or internal martial arts practice, is indeed a form of magic. However, in this era of quick success and instant benefits, very few people are still willing to spend ten, twenty, or even sixty years of arduous practice to refine essence into Qi. This skill has great potential, but it takes far too long, and the cost-effectiveness is not very high.
Incidentally, all cultivators know that the most powerful martial arts cultivator in the world, the strongest martial god—of course, is Hayden's dear father-in-law, the renowned Peacock King. He represents the very pinnacle of the cultivation path, capable of shattering a continental shelf with a single punch. However, even he represents roughly the upper limit of martial arts cultivation; ultimately, he is still a notch below those Bodhisattvas.
...Frankly speaking, this is actually a kind of tragedy. Qi refining and internal alchemy cultivation were never originally intended for combat. They were not for fighting, but rather magical techniques researched and developed by ancient Qi cultivators in their pursuit of immortality and to elevate their life level.
However, in this era, Qi cultivation techniques were not only marginalized, but even the remaining remnants were tightly bound to the word "combat," and regarded as a magical path oriented towards combat power. But in reality, it shouldn't be like that.
Just as Hayden once pursued magic to heal the sick and save lives, alchemy and qi cultivation were originally techniques born for the purpose of prolonging life.
...However, he, who had never practiced any internal alchemy techniques, seemed to have no right to complain about this.
Five minutes later, the gamblers in the stands had finished placing their bets. The announcer then stepped out of the arena, turned to the two figures standing opposite each other on the platform, and roared, "A deathmatch dedicated to the goddess! Now begins!"
In the blink of an eye, the moment the host roared excitedly, the steel arm made its move!
He certainly didn't take Hayden, dressed in baggy shorts, flip-flops, and a vest, seriously. With a lightning-fast step, his long arm shot out, his steel-like right hand like a cannonball, aimed straight for Hayden's face!
A true expert's skill is immediately apparent. Seeing the sheer force of the steel arm's initial strike, surging forth like a tidal wave, Hayden instantly knew the man was indeed formidable. His speed surpassed even that of one of his cyborg apprentices, and his power was perhaps even greater!
So Hayden stood still and didn't flinch, but instead stuck his head out, allowing the steel arm to punch him in the face!
A deafening explosion resounded, and the shockwave spread like a landslide. Even an iron man would be shattered by that punch.
In fact, everyone present did hear the sound of shattering.
That was the sound of bones shattering inch by inch from the right fist of the steel arm.
His hardened fist had been completely shattered on Hayden's face, like a stone breaking on steel, turning into a lump of rotten flesh mixed with bone fragments!
Even the most seasoned and shrewd fighter, skilled in countless battles and cold-blooded combat, couldn't help but change his expression in this situation. The man with the steel arm immediately retreated, his right hand hanging limply, the mangled flesh hanging down, sweat beading on his face from the intense pain. Yet his expression remained cold and hard; were it not for the sweat, one would never have seen the agony of his shattered right hand.
Rather than feeling pain, he was utterly bewildered. Why was it that when he punched his opponent in the face, the opponent didn't dodge or flinch, but instead shattered his fist? What was the logic behind that?! It was a face, not some muscular pectoral muscle!
I've never heard of anyone with such a powerful arm! It would be one thing if it were a warrior wearing power armor, but even a warrior couldn't possibly break his fist bare-faced! Unless it's a cyborg Valkyrie, but cyborgs aren't allowed to participate in deathmatches!
This is unreasonable!
However, none of these thoughts were revealed on the steel-armed man's expression. He appeared completely calm. Seeing that Hayden didn't seem to intend to attack, he rushed forward again, his right leg kicking out, initially aimed at Hayden's nose—but at the last moment, its trajectory suddenly changed, sweeping towards Hayden's ribs!
He suspected that Hayden's unusual toughness stemmed from some kind of protective technique targeting specific areas. Since Hayden was willingly offering his face to be hit, he would instead kick him in the waist and abdomen!
...But Hayden remained unmoved, standing still to take the kick. With a loud "bang!", the steel-armed sweeping leg struck Hayden squarely in the lower back. However, the instant his right leg struck, the Qi-cultivation master's eyes widened, he let out a pained groan, and he could no longer stand!
Fortunately, he possessed profound internal strength and could control his muscles at will. Even though his entire right leg was shattered, he could still support himself on his left foot... but it was clear that no matter how much he continued fighting, he couldn't win.
Steel Arm wasn't stupid; he was well aware that the difference in strength was obvious. But he really couldn't understand it! Why?!
The reason is actually quite simple.
Hayden shook his body, releasing some of the magic power and spiritual energy he had just suppressed. Although the spectators outside the arena couldn't see it, Jinggangbi, being a cultivator and standing close by, could see it clearly. Seeing the energy surging from Hayden's body, even this so-called cold-faced expert's expression changed drastically.
Because standing before him now was Hayden—a true earthly immortal!
Although Hayden never practiced Qi cultivation to form an inner elixir, he practiced an outer elixir! He absorbed the Qi of Heaven and consumed Angela's breath for several years, and then he refined the Nine-Turn Golden Elixir and ate a large amount of it—this is the most classic and traditional way to become an immortal through taking medicine!
Using the mind and body as a furnace, one cultivates and inhales vital energy, circulating it throughout the body—this is called the "Circulation of Qi." This is what is known as Foundation Establishment, a realm that qualified cultivators must reach through years of practice. The Steel Arm has always been proud of this.
But Hayden has already taken drugs and become a genuine immortal! Moreover, he's basically specialized in being incredibly durable and immortal. In the past few years, Hayden has endured all sorts of incredible god-level attacks, almost dying and coming back to life. Now, he could probably lie down and let a minor god beat him up without dying.
If a Foundation Establishment cultivator still has the will to fight when they see a True Immortal, or even wants to win... that's something even cultivation novels wouldn't dare to write.
"I'm actually reluctant to kill people forced into life-or-death battles. But since everyone is willingly gambling with their lives, there's nothing more to say. You've been fighting deathmatches for so long, you should have expected this day, right?"
As Hayden spoke, he raised his right hand and spoke to the steel arm whose face had already turned to despair.
Have you ever seen a fist as big as a clay pot?
Although Hayden had never practiced martial arts, a mortal cultivator would obviously die if he were punched by an immortal.
So, the steel-armed man's expression changed several times. Suddenly, he turned around and, disregarding the fact that one of his legs was already broken, he limped away from the arena!
He didn't want to die! Anyone can kill someone, but not everyone wants to be killed! He's from out of town, not one of those South American lunatics!
Hayden had originally intended to punch him to see how tough he was, but unexpectedly, the steel-armed man turned around and started running and jumping wildly. So Hayden simply stopped and turned to see how the organizers would react—after all, he wasn't really there to fight; he was there to investigate the situation in South America.
So what happened next didn't surprise Hayden too much.
With a soft "thud," a flying dagger shot from the arena stands. Steel Arm, who had almost run out of the arena, had a spurt of blood shoot from the back of his head, and his body swayed as he collapsed forward, already dead.
"I'm sorry, it's rare for gladiators to run away."
Then, the host calmly addressed the audience.
"After all, only outsiders from other regions would do such pointless things and spoil everyone's fun."
"However, since Mr. Gandalf on the platform has already broken one of the steel arms and one of the legs, continuing the fight will only lead to the same result. So even if we try to escape, it won't affect the blood sacrifice or the gamble, so please rest assured!"
313: Death Management
The white-robed necromancers in the arena walked over as if no one else was there and dissected the corpse of the man with the steel arm.
Although the bodies of Foundation Establishment cultivators have not undergone any postnatal modifications, their internal organs, tendons, bones, muscles, and fat, honed through years of internal alchemy cultivation, are all valuable natural biological materials.
Of course, Hayden didn't need those parts. So the arena would buy or auction off the biological materials from Steel Arm to the surrounding audience, and then give a very small portion of the money to the victor—really, a very small portion. Steel Arm was a Foundation Establishment cultivator, yet his death only earned Hayden 50,000 gold coins. At first glance, it seems like a lot, but if you think about it carefully and see how Steel Arm was dismembered and carried away, you'll realize that this share is really tiny.
The organs and parts of a Foundation Establishment cultivator's entire body, if fully utilized, would be worth at least more than 50,000 plus a zero.
Soon, all the organ parts of the steel arm were bought by the audience. Only the heart and blood, to be offered as a blood sacrifice to the goddess of death, remained. Therefore, the arena floor did not need to be washed; it simply absorbed the blood of the dead, and even the smell of blood in the air quickly dissipated.
The surrounding spectators and gamblers complained about how boring the gladiatorial match had been. To be honest, it was indeed quite dull. Hayden didn't think his victory was anything special—an immortal, using sheer shamelessness to kill a Foundation Establishment cultivator, wasn't something to brag about, and he had no intention of doing so.
Instead, he took the opportunity to observe other things more closely. First and foremost, of course, was the blood sacrifice taking place in the arena. Hayden silently extended his mental energy to sense and analyze the magical effects of the arena—and sure enough, the arena was absorbing the life and even the souls of all the creatures that died inside, along with their blood.
In almost every culture around the world, the blood of the living is a symbol of extremely powerful magic. It is so powerful that it can even bind the soul—and everyone believes that the soul and the underworld are very mysterious things, so much so that even the gods cannot truly grasp the soul of the dead, nor can they easily bring them back to life… Oh, no, that's not right.
Mithra Bodhisattva's [Reincarnation] magic can indeed capture the souls of the dead and arbitrarily resurrect those whose souls have been captured. He has already embarked on the path to a higher realm. Under the blazing sun, there are no souls he cannot control. Moreover, once the laws of [Reincarnation] are fully established, they no longer require any social mechanism to maintain their operation.
In comparison, the death gladiatorial combats organized by Miktikahiva were clearly far inferior to those of Mitra in terms of execution. By now, Hayden had essentially grasped the situation.
Just as [Reincarnation] can manage all life and death, Miktikashiva is indeed managing the death of all life under her rule through these death gladiatorial combats and strict restrictions on other ways of dying.
The life and soul energy of creatures that die in her arena are absorbed by her in this ritualistic blood sacrifice. At the same time, the goddess Mikkor forbids other ways of dying, so everyone dies in the blood sacrifice... wait, something doesn't seem right.
Micket certainly couldn't possibly have everyone under her rule die in the arena. It would be ideal to manage things so strictly, but in reality, it's probably impossible. The level of control that social mechanisms can achieve is ultimately limited.
So there must be other "legal" ways and places to die in this land. And finding out about them shouldn't be too difficult... I guess.
But since more people are bound to die every day in other ways, why would she deliberately organize this deathmatch? It couldn't be for profit, because making money through constant deaths isn't cost-effective. Living people are what generate more revenue for the company, especially powerful ones. Immediate death only reduces profits, especially through this kind of internally destructive gladiatorial combat.
Even if a strong person has to die, shouldn't there be a more worthwhile way to die?
Hayden scratched his head, feeling utterly confused.
After all, he had only been in this country for a day, and the atmosphere here was vastly different from other places. In this country, guns were made of flesh and blood, ammunition was made of bones, hearts could be used to make grenades, trucks had shells, brains, and six legs, and people treated death gladiatorial combat as daily entertainment—what kind of bio-punk style is this?