In the end, Xiang Yu, who hosted the Feast at Hongmen, met a tragic fate. After losing the decisive Battle of Gaixia, he was surrounded by enemy forces. Facing defeat and unable to escape, he chose to take his own life by the Wu River, becoming a hero whose legend endures through the ages.

Chen Shang walked slowly down the street, facing the night wind as winter approached. Even he hadn’t expected his team would face the Xu Corporation so early, deciding victory or defeat in the preliminary round.

Yet the Xu Corporation was by no means easy to deal with. Since they’d resolved to take part in the Grand Arena, it was clear they coveted the championship trophy. To achieve their goals, the magnates cared little for fair play.

So even with the most basic reasoning, it was easy to guess the real motive behind the Xu Corporation’s invitation. At best, they aimed to buy them off. The preliminary rounds were filled with desperate, reckless “cannon fodder”—for a bit of money, they could be persuaded to withdraw. At worst, the Xu Corporation might invite them only to silence them forever.

In a world like this, one could never underestimate the depths to which the magnates would sink... No, one should never expect them to have any bottom line at all.

Thinking this, Chen Shang dialed two numbers, but not his tournament teammates.

“Kali Black, there’s amusement in two days.”

“Chu Jianlai, can you come somewhere the day after tomorrow? …Yes, it’s the Xu Corporation. I’ll send you the address.”

…

On the third evening at seven o’clock, the White Cathedral District of Night Axis City was still shrouded in mist. White vapor spewed from cracks in the pavement, with silhouettes occasionally darting through.

Following his phone’s navigation, Chen Shang made his way toward the appointed meeting place with the Xu Corporation. It was clearly a trap, but Chen Shang was unfazed. After all, everyone knew the fate of Xiang Yu at the original trap banquet.

The rendezvous point was an abandoned factory. The rusted gate stood open, inside heaped with massive, discarded parts and equipment. Several people, dressed in various styles, stood or sat inside; clearly, they too had been summoned by the Xu Corporation.

Chen Shang kicked aside some rusty debris and chose a discarded tire to sit on.

The other attendees said nothing, nor did they greet him. Instead, their eyes sized him up with a predatory hostility, like hungry wolves watching prey.

Yet, after careful scrutiny, their expressions grew grim—they couldn’t decipher the newcomer’s identity. At first glance, he seemed just a high schooler with black-rimmed glasses, but there was a depth to him that belied his age, and his face seemed veiled in a subtle haze, creating a sense of incongruity.

Soon, several more people arrived, choosing corners to sit in after surveying the scene.

Chen Shang observed that most present formed small teams of two or three, though there were lone wolves like himself. There were about a dozen such “circles,” likely teams from the preliminary group stage.

The factory’s dead atmosphere was broken by applause. Everyone turned to see a man in a blue suit, hair slicked with a lethal amount of gel, stroll in with a smile, flanked by two large, black-clad bodyguards.

“It looks like everyone’s here,” the slick-haired man announced directly. “Nice to meet you all. I’m the Xu Corporation’s representative. I’ve come to offer you a chance to reconsider your choices.”

At his gesture, the two bodyguards opened briefcases, revealing neat stacks of cash.

“I believe you’ve joined the Grand Arena for money and fame,” the representative said with a professional smile. “But the Grand Arena is no playground for third-rate thugs. How sure are you that you’ll be the last one standing, and not just another corpse under the champion’s feet?”

“So, this money is for us?” a middle-aged man, wrapped in tattered cloth and clutching a submachine gun, eagerly interrupted. “You want to persuade us to withdraw?”

“Exactly, everyone,” the slick-haired man said, raising his voice as he took a stack of bills from the case. “Three hundred thousand! If you’re willing to quit, I’ll give each team three hundred thousand!”

At this, many contestants licked their lips in anticipation.

To withdraw voluntarily meant three hundred thousand per team—averaging a hundred thousand each.

For these desperate souls, it was enough to live well for a while, perhaps even buy an apartment in a slightly better slum.

Moreover, there were no rules about how the money should be split. Kill your teammates, and the entire sum would be yours.

With that thought, faces brightened and legs shifted restlessly, eager to step forward.

But then, a tall, thin radiated contestant with antennae on his head gave a strange laugh and asked, “Xu Corporation’s so wealthy, you’re not planning to fob us off with just this little bit, are you?”

“What do you want, then?” the representative replied with a smile.

“Five hundred thousand!” the radiated man demanded, holding up five fingers with both hands. “Give me five hundred thousand, and I’ll withdraw!”

At his words, the representative’s face immediately turned cold, and he signaled his men.

A red dot appeared on the radiated man’s forehead. Before he could react, a bullet flew from the upper floor window, blasting his head apart.

Chen Shang quickly shifted sideways, avoiding the splatter of green blood.

A few more bullets shredded the radiated man’s body, ensuring he was utterly dead.

“Apologies, dear contestants,” the slick-haired man said, wiping his hands with a silk cloth and resuming his professional smile. “I hope you understand that the Xu Corporation doesn’t negotiate. We expect your cooperation.”

As he finished, a red dot appeared on everyone’s forehead—each now targeted by a sniper.

“So, who’s next?” the representative asked, clapping his hands.

A small, ragged man stood up, legs trembling. “I… I agree! I only joined because I owed loan sharks!”

“Excellent, you’re a model contestant,” the representative smiled, tossing a wad of cash at the man’s feet.

He snatched up the money, signed the withdrawal confirmation on the tablet handed to him, and fled without looking back.

On the misty street, he ran three blocks with the cash clutched to his chest.

“Wonderful! With this money at the casino, I can win enough to pay back my million-dollar debt and start anew!” he muttered.

In the next second, a black-uniformed security guard standing nearby drew a pistol and shot him in the head.

“Target eliminated, ready for collection.”

The guard opened his coat, revealing the Xu Corporation insignia.

He took the cash from the dead man’s hands and dragged him into a nearby alley for disposal.

…

Meanwhile, the bribery continued orderly inside the factory.

Having witnessed the radiated man’s death, the others realized resistance meant only death. Though the Xu Corporation’s arrogance infuriated them, they were compelled to bow under the circumstances. The lure of three hundred thousand was strong.

A few more contestants, urged by this, signed withdrawal papers, took the money, and left.

Chen Shang sat silently on the old tire, unmoving.

He knew the Xu Corporation’s ways all too well; they would never simply settle things with money, nor leave evidence of their crimes.

All they wanted was for everyone to withdraw, but they had no intention of letting anyone live after doing so.

Once the contestants withdrew en masse a week before the tournament, the preliminary round would be left with numerous vacancies, impossible to fill in time.

Then, a group of actors hired by the Xu Corporation would disguise themselves as contestants, filling the empty slots and engaging in “fierce competition” with the corporation’s team, ultimately “losing” to them.

With this method, the Xu Corporation’s team could advance to the final without any obvious behind-the-scenes manipulation.

As for how Chen Shang knew their plan… well, he was the mastermind, after all.

Thus, he would never sign that contract. Even if he did, it would mean certain death—and his goal was to trample the Xu Corporation on the field.

One by one, the contestants signed withdrawal papers, took their share, and left. The factory gradually emptied to half its original crowd.

Those who remained still had a red dot flashing on their foreheads.

The representative’s gaze drifted over the crowd, finally settling on the youngest-looking—Chen Shang.

“Have you made up your mind, kid?” he asked, feigning friendliness but clearly issuing a final ultimatum.

Chen Shang took a deep breath and slowly stood up.

“That’s right, kid,” the representative said with delight.

But in the next moment, Chen Shang twisted the dial on his “pheromone suppressor” and, taking out his phone, murmured:

“Swordsman, now!”