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墨書 Inktalez
In the center of the Bloody Storm Arena, ten Gladiators stood there, dressed in bizarre outfits, wearing fireproof masks and holding various weapons, with three cylindrical iron canisters strapped to their backs.
There was an eerie feeling just looking at them.
"Hey, why do I feel like those things on their backs look a lot like Dry Powder Fire Extinguishers?" A sharp-featured Fellow in the audience said while picking his nose.
Next to him sat a charming woman, her head gently resting on the nose-picker's shoulder. "Maybe they’re trophies that the Suicide Squad got from some Fire Department?"
Her words quickly spread through the crowd, and everyone instinctively nodded in agreement.
Yes! It must be that way; only the Fire Department would have such things. Looking at their equipment, it was all firefighting gear. It seemed that this auction must have been swept clean by an individual or an organization that defeated everyone in the first round!
In the audience, a few obviously sharp-minded individuals blinked their eyes and rushed out of the competition venue, dashing to the betting station. Before the final betting was closed, they poured all their savings into betting on the victory of the first match. Some gamblers even bet with bloodshot eyes and trembling hearts on zero-loss odds.
When Old Cui, hunched over and accompanied by his close friend Qin the Fat, placed all 100 Zombie Crystal s they had earned through a year and more of commercial wisdom into zero-loss betting, they exchanged a knowing smile.
This was a gamble—a grand gamble. Two former top-notch wealthy men, though no longer as ambitious as they were in their youth and lacking the wealth to influence a nation's direction, still had their lives intact and loved ones around them. Although their descendants were not particularly capable, as elders, they always wished to leave behind a significant fortune for them.
This time was the biggest gamble of their lives. Even when their company went public and skyrocketed hundreds of times, it never felt as exhilarating as this moment.
Because what they were betting was not just money; it was life itself and hope for the future.
In the Gladiatorial Arena, flames gradually rose higher. The temperature in the rugged arena had already reached over 40 degrees Celsius and continued to climb. Yet every Butcher wore a smile on their face.
This temperature was a breeze for them in full fireproof gear; the heat waves were almost completely kept at bay, leaving them without any discomfort from the heat.
They exchanged smiles with one another, filled with joy. As long as they persevered, they would be free. Although they would join the Firestorm Team as free men, in the future, they would have their own spoils and salaries. After completing their three-year contract, they could completely break away from the Firestorm Team and venture out on their own.
"For freedom, for survival," the Left Guard constantly reminded himself, dragging the massive Tower Shield with his left hand while holding a slender foreign sword in his right, his face beaming with joy.
These two weapons were exactly what he desired. After a year of using poorly made gear that failed to unleash his full potential, he was now assured by the captain that it didn’t matter if the weapons got damaged; as long as the serial numbers were correct, he could exchange them for new ones without limit.
Of course, the weapon in his hand had already become his personal possession. He was reluctant to let this beloved weapon fulfill its purpose in just one battle.
Beside him, Blue Lightning twisted and squirmed, gripping an authentic European Rapier that felt much more comfortable to wield. He also had a Round Shield hanging from his left arm, weighing only two pounds but providing sufficient defense to help him avoid injury during combat.
In the face of Zombies, being injured equated to death.
"Brothers, it's time for us to show our might and demonstrate our skills to the captain; otherwise, we might end up eating nothing but scraps in the future." After a hearty meal, they nearly swallowed their tongues. In the Post-Apocalypse, even ordinary food had become a precious commodity.
As his voice faded, a series of creaking sounds echoed, followed by the terrifying roar of Zombies amplifying around them.
"Those bastards! How dare they betray us!" Devil's Advocate suddenly glanced at the ground, his face filled with rage as he stomped his foot hard.
Suddenly, jets of water erupted from where they stood, spraying over them. It was blood—fresh blood that would drive Zombies into a frenzy.
Sure enough, upon catching the scent of blood, the Zombies seemed stimulated and rushed out of the passageway, frantically charging toward ten Butchers.
They completely ignored the flames on the ground and recklessly lunged forward. The fire blazed even fiercer upon contact with them, wisps of blue smoke rising from their bodies.
"According to tactics, charge!" Fifty individuals uniformly pulled out grenade-like devices from their waists. With a slight pull on the pins and pressing down on the activation levers, they hurled them forward.
The fifty grenades traced a white line through the air before erupting into streams of white gas.
The grenades that were supposed to explode were suppressed by an unknown force and could only slowly release their contents into the air.
But that was enough. With these gases, the flames on the ground began to be subdued gradually.
Then the Dry Powder Fire Extinguisher unleashed its power, spraying dry powder that directly blocked the holes where gasoline was sprayed.
The terrain restrictions aligned perfectly with their plan, leaving only a strip of fiery ground, reserved for the Zombies.
Fifty people slowly closed in on the Zombies, forcing them to walk through the flames, becoming engulfed in fire, and then led them in circles within the Gladiatorial Arena.
The flames scorched them, while the Butchers occasionally pierced their skulls with weapons, taking their lives away.
It was nothing short of a massacre. The ground was splattered with the nauseating blood of the Zombies.
The flames gradually became their death knell. Among everyone, only the Left Guard did not circle around; instead, he simply held back the Zombies' attacks, preventing them from straying from their designated path.
Any Zombie that attempted to break away from the group was pushed back by his shield and long knife.
Victory had already tilted towards the Left Guard and his team from the very beginning, even more easily than when dealing with a limited number of Zombies before.
The Zombies across from them seemed to be lining up for death, and once a Zombie caught fire and died, it would be consumed by the flames and reduced to ashes in less than ten seconds.
It was enough to make Zheng Yifan in the Luxury Box marvel at the wonders of such creatures as Zombies.
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