Thirty Years on the East Side of the River

Long Ao could tell he was being singled out, but he reluctantly agreed.

The countdown began over the arena speakers.

“Ten.”

“Nine.”

Complex teleportation arrays surfaced across the arena floor, their ghostly blue light shining up from beneath their feet.

When the countdown ended, blinding white light swallowed the entire arena. The intense dizziness made Chen Guan nauseous as the world around him twisted and stretched.

The salty scent of sea wind was replaced by a rancid, sour stench. When the white light faded, his feet were planted in soft earth.

Chen Guan opened his eyes. Towering trees reached into the sky all around him, their dense canopies blocking out the sunlight. Only a few rays managed to pierce through, casting dappled spots of light across the rotting leaves.

He tried operating the terminal on his wrist, but the screen showed nothing but glaring static.

“As expected. Signal jamming.”

He shut off the terminal and glanced up at the sky hidden beneath the canopy. An unknown bird let out an ugly cry as it swept through the forest. Aside from that, there was nothing remarkable, and he had no way to determine his direction.

At that moment, a faint rustling came from the bushes ahead.

Chen Guan drove his foot into the ground and spun around, raising his scythe across his chest.

A huge black shadow dove down from the treetops on a gust of foul wind.

It was a massive spider monster, jet-black from head to tail, with eight jointed limbs. A scorpion-like bony tail dragged behind its abdomen, its stinger gleaming with a sinister green poison.

Fetid mucus dripped from its opening mandibles, corroding the fallen leaves and sending up wisps of white smoke.

Baobao arched its back and let out a threatening growl, every strand of its purple fur standing on end.

Chen Guan tightened his grip on the scythe, remaining perfectly still as his calm gaze swept over the spider monster.

There was no spiritual-energy fluctuation from a demon core. This thing wasn’t a demon beast.

The spider monster’s eight crimson eyes locked onto Chen Guan. Its hind legs suddenly pushed off, and its enormous body pounced with astonishing agility.

Chen Guan advanced instead of retreating. The instant he sidestepped the attack, the scythe in his hand swept upward, its blade ripping through the monster’s carapace and leaving a deep, bone-white gash.

Green, corrosive blood gushed out, splattering across a tree trunk and instantly eating holes into the bark.

“Awooo!”

Baobao transformed into a streak of purple lightning and appeared behind the spider monster, biting down on one of its vulnerable joints.

The spider monster shrieked in pain. Its scorpion tail whipped around with a sharp whoosh, stabbing straight toward Baobao’s head.

Chen Guan shot forward, using the shaft of his scythe to block the poisoned stinger. A tremendous force traveled through the weapon, leaving his arm numb and aching.

“Baobao, fall back.”

He barked the order, and Baobao immediately released its bite and flashed away to a safe distance.

Using the force of the block, Chen Guan spun around. The scythe carved a deadly crescent through the air.

“Echo: Storm.”

Invisible wind blades instantly coiled around the scythe. As he completed his turn and slashed, a pale vacuum crescent tore through the air with a piercing shriek.

All eight of the spider monster’s limbs were severed at the base. Its enormous body crashed to the ground, smashing a deep crater into the earth.

It struggled feebly in its death throes, its mandibles opening and closing repeatedly. Then it finally fell silent.

“Hungry, hungry.”

Baobao approached and sniffed the foul green blood. It immediately closed its mouth and backed away in disgust.

“Don’t eat it. It’s poisonous.”

Chen Guan gave the warning as he withdrew his scythe. He walked over to the spider monster’s corpse and pried open its skull with the tip of the blade.

A chip emitting a faint red glow was embedded in the brain tissue, still functioning.

As expected, it was an engineered creature.

The No. 0 Academy had clearly gone all out with the horrors it had placed on this island for the tournament. It was probably another product of Nine Dragons Technology.

Just as he was about to destroy the chip, a faint footstep sounded from within the forest.

Without turning his head, Chen Guan held his scythe across his body.

“Who’s there?”

“Long time no see, Chen.”

A blond, blue-eyed white man stepped out awkwardly. Chen Guan was not unfamiliar with him. He was the No. 0 Academy’s second-year top student—the one who had eliminated Chen Guan last year.

The wheel of fortune had turned. This time, it was his turn.

Seeing Chen Guan about to attack, Ross hurriedly backed away.

“Please, Chen. Can we not be so hostile?”

Ross knew when to yield. He understood that Chen Guan was no longer the weak freshman he had been last year. The man had become terrifyingly strong.

To show his respect, Ross had even switched to speaking Chinese.

Chen Guan’s scythe did not move an inch. Its icy blade clearly reflected Ross’s terrified face.

“We’re not close enough for me to show mercy.”

Ross raised his hands a little higher, palms facing outward, and forced a stiff smile.

“No, Chen. You’ve misunderstood.”

He explained at top speed, afraid that the blade gleaming with cold light would slice across his throat the next second.

“I mean no harm. I was teleported somewhere nearby and came over after hearing the fight.”

Baobao paced back from the spider monster’s corpse, circled around Ross’s feet, and looked up to sniff him. A threatening growl rumbled in its throat.

Ross’s body instantly went rigid. A bead of cold sweat slid down from his temple.

“Please keep it away from me. I’m allergic to felines.”

“It’s not a cat.”

Chen Guan corrected him blandly, but made no attempt to call Baobao back.

“Hungry, hungry.”

Baobao immediately put on a completely different expression. It rubbed its head against Chen Guan’s trouser leg, staring up at him with its purple eyes like a starving pet.

Chen Guan glanced at Ross.

Ross understood at once.

“My friend, I have something!”

He frantically pulled a demon core glowing with a blue radiance from his pocket and tossed it onto the ground, as far away from himself as possible, like he was throwing away a hot coal.

“A high-quality water-element demon core. Completely natural. It’ll definitely like it.”

Baobao did not even spare it a glance. It only looked up at Chen Guan, waiting for its master’s permission.

Chen Guan tilted his chin toward the core. Baobao was pretty smart after all—it even knew not to eat something handed over by a stranger.

Only then did Baobao cheerfully pounce on the demon core and swallow it in one bite. After letting out a satisfied belch, it trotted back and sat down at Chen Guan’s feet.

“See? We can get along.”

Ross’s taut nerves finally relaxed, and he tentatively lowered his hands.

Chen Guan finally put away his scythe, but he and Ross still kept enough distance between them for Chen Guan to launch a sudden, lethal attack at any moment.

“Tell me what you want.”

Chen Guan sized Ross up. In the year since they had last met, the man had actually risen to the fifth rank.

Terrifying. One really couldn’t underestimate the heroes of the world.

“Cooperation.”

Ross’s expression instantly turned serious. He pointed toward the treetops in the distance.

“The engineered creatures on this island are only the warm-up. The people from the other academies are the ones who truly want us dead.”

Chen Guan neither agreed nor disagreed. That was the very nature of a survival battle.

“I saw people from Kamitani Academy just now.”

Ross lowered his voice, fear lingering unmistakably across his face.

“Hiiragi Qingbai is leading them. There are two others with him.”

The image of the gentle young man in a white ceremonial robe, holding a folding fan, surfaced in Chen Guan’s mind.

“He’s strong.”