Half a month has passed.
Only one week left until the Continent Martial Arts Competition finals on September 1st. The most update n0vels are published on novel·fire·net
The thousand strong contestants selected through the elimination rounds are more than just tools for the Military Government to add fresh blood for the Alan Royal Court; they are also world-class events akin to the New Year, crucial for raking in money.
Most importantly, the Continent Martial Arts Competition has a gambling nature. The Emperor certifies it, ensuring there are no insider tricks. Take a chance, and a bike transforms into a motorbike, a tank becomes a supermodel.
It’s like the World Cup, who the hell would watch the games if there were no betting involved?
It’s already a world-class festivity, full of life-or-death competitions and opportunities to win money—it would be bizarre if September didn’t heat up.
To attract more bettors, everyone knows production labor and asset appreciation don’t bring in much—real earnings come from the halo effect and ideology manipulation.
Disgracing oneself before the Emperor is one thing, but it’s mostly about packaging contestants, hyping them up, making people buy into it—today hype this one, tomorrow the other; it’s about hedging risks.
This way, you win big. Betting becomes a money machine, draining more than just hydrogen oxide. I bet thirty million, if the country wins, great! That’s gutsy.
The stakes are such that, in this lifetime, how many of us get swallowed by the moonlit night, longing for the past to return, to roam Lake Baikal together once more.
Bam, a leap to suicide.
The Hunger Games are often called the Mini Continent Martial Arts Competition.
All thousand contestants must be packaged into stars. With backstories, striking looks or perceived badassery, they must be heavily promoted.
Kai Deng, who’s already in the finals, doesn’t need to hide anymore. Not only is the "Nightingale" stolen, but no disguise can escape almost a month of surveillance.
Aside from a completely flat chest, Kai Deng is flawless elsewhere—extremely photogenic with toned abs and a defined waist. Called Little Kai Deng, San Li is also tall and well-proportioned.
However, silver hair and golden eyes are seen as ominous, potentially lowering the "ratings." The Aran Military Government’s mouthpiece, the Aran Epoch Weekly, has gone overboard, more extravagant than the Adventurer’s Guild Bulletin. Familiar with respecting XP, they turned the ominous into strength. They must cash in, hyping the mixed demon bloodlines; it might just be legend or hereditary, no one’s sure.
As a photogenic contestant, Kai Deng is a major focus for reporters. There’s something arranged almost every day—a damn press conference, practically.
With the guidance of fashion stylists, makeup artists, and designers, Kai Deng began wondering if the Emperor himself was coming for them.
After each styling session, dressed flashier than a nightclub Salsa dancer—the white leather chest armor with a back cutout, cropped to reveal the belly, showing off their entire butterfly-shaped back, held together with a few straps, paired with matching white leather leg guards and sparkling high heels—Kai Deng found it all a bit "much."
Thankfully, the stylist assured it was temporary for the press conference; on the field, wearing anything comfortable is fine, as long as there’s no streaking.
This assurance eased Kai Deng a lot. How could you fight dressed ? A few steps in and you’d sprain an ankle; if the straps on the back loosened, exposing a bra cup would be catastrophic.
The scientific ninja tools worked so well that Kai Deng almost believed the padding themselves, with the stylist considering their size, added serious enhancements.
As midsummer approached, with the Stargazing Festival nearing, the Imperial City saw brighter and clearer skies each day.
Today, in the professional interview room at the Arena Hotel.
Diaz, the so-called Emperor of the Night, made a mess.
"Are you really the Netherworld Envoy for the Thief Guild?"
A male reporter with glasses so thick they could explode sneaked a glance at the wonders produced by the scientific ninja tools, quietly swallowing.
During the finals, the Emperor pardons the world.
But it doesn’t mean you’re pardoned just by reaching the finals; being recruited into the Royal Court grants natural immunity. Otherwise, you die in the arena.
Even if your opponent spares you, professional hands will ensure you die with dignity.
Of course, without any criminal status, you wouldn’t have that worry, but you’d still hope your opponent shows mercy—surrender in these deathmatches isn’t an option.
Most will kill directly; no one wants to rise in the Royal Court with someone holding a grudge.
This reporter’s question stirred the scene instantly.
When Saleret returned, it caused a huge stir; news of his fights with Kai Deng in the hotel before the contest stoked the frenzy to the max.
Their backgrounds were dug up completely in a worldwide human flesh search. Though the Thief Guild’s intelligence network is formidable, independent operatives seeking profit are unmatched. Selling a bit of info for big gains meant Diaz was exposed as a singer.
Though the Netherworld Envoy’s confidentiality is high, his betrayal came from within. Kai Deng blamed himself for boasting all the way to Aran, thinking he’d never return to the guild.
Doringger’s confidentiality was also impeccable, only linking Saleret to missions for Doringger, guessing he came back due to Doringger’s downfall.
Nobody knew the relationship between the two, even the private killings.
Heavy romance-brains even shipped them as rivals; their rivalry ranked among the top hundred contestants.
Despite cameras not being common for civilians, the Aran Ministry of Culture surely doesn’t lack them. Magnesium flashbulbs sparkled incessantly in the venue.
"It’s just an unsubstantiated guess. But... no matter who it is, they better not meet me. I’ll cut off their balls, feed them to dogs, and chop them up."
Kai Deng, unaccustomed to being in the public eye, nervously let out his true thoughts, quickly covering his mouth.
"Great! So cute! Total gap moe!"
A male reporter eagerly scribbled down, who knows what bullshit.
Kai Deng was dumbfounded. Were these people too consumed with dead silver carps or what? Their brains seemed sick.
"Replace uncivilized words, balls with... split the skull, somewhat more elegant."
The chief editor from the Ministry of Culture supervised aside, vital for Royal Court profits, not to be taken lightly, having oversight on his paper.
This wasn’t an exclusive interview.
To get first-hand news, the adventurer’s guild newspaper fiercely bribed the Royal Court to access the Arena Hotel for interviews. However, once the Royal Court received their money, they couldn’t control how the guild wrote their stories.
Given the adventurer’s guild’s paper was ridiculously hyped, people during the tournament preferred the Aran Epoch Weekly.
Surprisingly, as a woman, Kai Deng enjoyed the spotlight, grateful to her good brother Liszt. Come September 9th, she must "thank" this dear brother properly.
The scientific ninja tools greatly boosted Kai Deng’s confidence.
"It’s almost draw time, who do you least want to face?"
A reporter went straight to the point.
"Doesn’t matter, just hope it’s not a handsome guy. I’d go easy, a slow knife, would be unpleasant."
The scientific ninja tools turned Kai Deng into an exhibitionist personality.
On the other hand, Saleret’s situation was the exact opposite, as if they were in entirely different competitions.