How could the planner possibly set you up?

As the riddle was unveiled, the live broadcast abruptly switched to an old, grainy video. In the footage, a colossal dragon, its entire body cloaked in green scales and towering taller than city walls, roared toward the heavens. Its jaws, stretched to their utmost, seemed capable of swallowing the entire sky.

Before such a monstrous being, humanity appeared pitifully small and powerless. The army sent to slay it was crushed into pulp beneath its massive claws; fighter jets soaring overhead were flung aside by the gusts from its wings. Some considered deploying a nuclear warhead, but doing so would mean obliterating Night Axis City along with the dragon—an outcome the magnates would never allow.

As nearly half the city was devoured by the beast, dozens of hunters mounted fire-breathing dragons and approached the World-Eater’s head, launching a suicidal assault with heavy weaponry. At last, the battered and dying dragon tried to take flight, only to be shot down by dozens of fighter planes, crashing toward the ground.

Where it fell, scores of armored hunters, wielding mechanical greatswords and eyes filled with resolute fatalism, slashed at the descending monster. Though viewers were merely watching a recording, many felt their blood boiling—or cold sweat pouring down their backs.

The earth-shattering battle ended, and the camera abruptly shifted to a desert factory. Within giant vats filled with oily green nutrient fluid, a grotesque mass of flesh writhed ceaselessly.

The scene changed again, this time to a small containment chamber. Inside, a giant dinosaur with green scales paced restlessly, occasionally swallowing small animals tossed in for its meal, while scientists in white lab coats observed and took notes from outside.

One last shift: the lens focused on a barren desert. Now, a six-meter-tall green dragon coiled within a rocky cave, its maw bristling with fangs, seemingly awaiting prey.

The footage faded, replaced once more by Flavii’s flamboyant face.

"Yes, you heard me right!" Flavii struck a twisted pose, legs crossed and arms flung wide, and shouted, "The World-Eater Dragon, which once nearly destroyed Night Axis City, has been cloned by Radiant Bird Corporation’s genetic technology! And the hidden mission of this tournament is to slay the newly bred juvenile World-Eater!"

"The dragon will be released one hour after the match begins. If the tournament ends early, the surviving team may choose to extend the match or finish right away!"

Sitting on the sofa watching the broadcast, Chiyo Yasougi suddenly frowned, spraying coffee from her mouth.

"Miss Chiyo!" Sakura Motobe, seated nearby, exclaimed in alarm.

"Cough, cough… I’m fine!" Chiyo wiped her lips, struggling to maintain composure. She quickly turned to Sakura, instructing, "Radiant Bird Corporation managed to clone that monster. Report to Father at once!"

"Understood, Miss!" Sakura made a solemn bow and hurried from the study.

Left alone, Chiyo rose, restless, taking a deep breath as confusion overwhelmed her. Since Chen Shang had promised White Fox a gene repair serum as payment, it was clear he intended to hunt the World-Eater. But that was the monster whose death had cost countless soldiers; even as a juvenile, it was not something three people could handle.

No matter how cunning Chen Shang was, this was not a problem that could be solved by wit alone. In the face of absolute power, he was but a clever little mouse.

Chiyo instinctively took out her phone, contemplating whether to use her family’s connections to contact the organizers. Yet, what could she say now? Should she extract Chen Shang’s team, cancel their eligibility? Or demand the hidden mission be revoked?

Despite her anxiety, there was nothing she could do. Moreover, Chen Shang seemed to relish the challenge, unwilling for her to interfere.

After a moment’s reflection, she could only sigh in resignation and settle quietly to watch the match unfold.

...

"It really is the World-Eater!"

Hearing the host’s introduction, Greatsword’s body trembled, as if recalling some terrible memory.

"See? I wasn’t lying," Chen Shang shrugged with a smile.

"But what about my serum?" White Fox grabbed Chen Shang’s collar, demanding, "How did it become a hidden reward?"

Chen Shang raised his hands, smiling placidly. "Look, we just win the championship and complete the hidden mission along the way—shouldn’t be a problem, right?"

"It’s a huge problem!" White Fox, barely holding herself together with painkillers, erupted in frustration. "No one has ever completed the hidden mission in the history of this tournament!"

"Then we’ll be the first team in history to do it," Chen Shang replied, unfazed, whistling lightly. "Besides, we have a border hunter here who once helped kill it!"

Greatsword was silent for a moment before speaking. "There’s something I must explain."

"What is it?" White Fox released Chen Shang’s collar, curious.

"My 'True Charged Slash' can’t be used in this match," Greatsword admitted, scratching his head regretfully. "The medic in the hunting guild told me if I use it again this week, my arm will break."

The move put immense strain on his body, requiring a long charge time and carrying a risk akin to sacrificing oneself for victory. It was said that decades ago, dozens of greatsword hunters unleashed their True Charged Slashes on the dying World-Eater, and only he survived.

"That’s truly bad news," Chen Shang said, feigning deep thought and covering his mouth.

"So we can’t kill that World-Eater at all! You really tricked me!" White Fox exclaimed, her hair standing on end as she grabbed Chen Shang’s collar and shook him. "You little brat, I’ll blow you up!"

"Stop, stop! Don’t shake!" Chen Shang gripped White Fox’s hands, trying to break free. "I do have a way to kill it. Just follow my lead!"

"You always say that! Why should we believe you?" White Fox protested, her ears twitching anxiously and helplessly, as though the hope once within reach had vanished again.

"When have I ever let you down?" Chen Shang countered. "Soon I’ll tell you how to defeat the World-Eater!"

"Shh!" At that moment, Greatsword made a silencing gesture.

"Enemies incoming!"

Both ceased their squabble, looking in the direction Greatsword pointed.

Three competitors, riding red bipedal dinosaurs, were racing toward them—the Tyrannosaur Cavalry Team. The lead rider held a thermal scanner, sweeping it ahead.

"There’s a high-temperature figure up ahead—must be other contestants!" he called to his teammates. "Let’s kill them and let our little dinosaurs feast!"