Chapter 81

Chapter 81

"Haha, go on, Ryan! Kill them!" The big-headed, pot-bellied Gert downed the wine in his cup and hurled it into the cage. Watching the barefoot men and the tiger get cut by the glass shards, their blood streaming down, his grin twisted into something even more savage.

"Master Gert, be careful not to get hurt by the glass shards. When they start fighting, the cage won’t stop the flying fragments. Maybe you should step back a bit more," the servant holding the wine bottle glanced into the cage but quickly lowered his head, hiding the sorrow on his face.

"I know, why waste so much breath? Do you think I don’t know how to dodge?" Gert shot the man an irritated glare, feeling slightly annoyed by the man’s nagging.

Still, despite his words, he valued his life enough to take a few steps back.

"Haha, Gert, you’re still betting on that sick tiger? It might not win this time," a slightly arrogant voice came from behind Gert.

Frowning, Gert instinctively turned toward the sound and, upon seeing the newcomer, snorted coldly.

It was his cousin, Gray. This guy had recently gained the favor of the main family, and his status was almost on par with Gert’s. "Shouldn’t you be on duty with the knights? What are you doing here? Aren’t you afraid Kane will kick you out?"

At the mention of Kane, Gray’s expression stiffened for a moment. "I’m off duty today. No one cares where I go."

"No one cares, sure, but do you really think Kane would tolerate a place like this? Then again, as someone who’s always stayed in the capital, I wouldn’t know him as well as you do." Gert himself felt a chill at bringing up Kane, but that didn’t stop him from needling his cousin, who had been brought back from outside. He simply couldn’t stand the guy.

Gray shoved the woman in his arms aside and strode up to Gert, grabbing him by the collar with a vicious glare. "You think I won’t throw you into that cage? Let’s see how long you’d last in there."

"You wouldn’t dare," Gert stammered, his bluster crumbling under Gray’s serpent-like gaze. "We came here together. If I die, how do you think the family would react? They’d never let you off."

"Perfect. You die, and the Bette family hands all their resources to me. Isn’t that why I was brought back here? Do you really think those profit-obsessed elders would care about your life? A useless glutton with no power or ability—what makes you think you can compare to me?" Gray narrowed his eyes, as if considering whether to act right then and there.

"Y-you forget, the current head is my father. I’m his only son." Gert’s voice trembled with panic. He was terrified Gray might actually strike here and now.

"Only son? You sure about that? Don’t you know how much you noble types love fooling around outside? If you die, your father can always go find his bastards." Gray patted Gert’s flabby jowl, the sound crisp against the flabby flesh.

"I don’t believe it! My father said I’m the only heir. His... his thing was ruined—he can’t have any more kids!" The moment those words left his mouth, ice shot down Gert’s spine, his lips quivering as he willed Gray to pretend he hadn’t heard.

"Oh? Is that so? Then I’ll have to look into it." Gray sneered and released Gert’s collar. Some threats were just talk—he couldn’t actually act here.

No one was stopping him now, but if he really went for the kill, guards would surely intervene. Whoever set up this place had strict, layered security.

Without knowing the backer’s identity, Gray wasn’t about to challenge their rules and risk offending them.

Then again, it was precisely because this place was so secure that they could all play here without fear of consequences.

Freed from Gray’s grip, Gert’s legs gave out, nearly toppling him. Luckily, the servant caught him—though Gert’s weight nearly crushed the slender man, leaving his legs shaking and back bent.

Seeing his pathetic state, Gray scoffed, pulled the woman back into his arms, and strode off toward the ritual temple with disdain.

Once he’d caught his breath, Gert straightened up and shoved the servant who had just helped him to the ground. "Damn trash! Why didn’t you help me when I was being threatened?"

The servant, already exhausted from supporting Gert’s bulk and unprepared, skidded across the ground, his arms, knees, and forehead burning from the rough contact.

"I’m sorry, but we’re not allowed to interfere with guests. Still, be at ease—if he had truly intended harm, the guards of the Western Source Palace would have stopped him. The establishment guarantees every guest’s safety." Ignoring his own pain, the servant scrambled to his knees, grating his forehead against Gert’s boot tip in desperate apology.

"Ugh, revolting. Get out of here. Send someone prettier next time." Gert wrinkled his nose at the servant’s injuries and shifted his foot away.

"Yes, sir." Relieved to escape punishment, the servant kowtowed furiously before scrambling away to report the incident to the steward.

With no one left to serve him, Gert slumped into a spectator’s seat, his bulk spilling over the sides. Hmph. If he hadn’t already placed his bet, he’d have left by now. Crossing paths with that bastard had ruined his mood.

And that guy dared claim his champion, the Tiger King, wouldn’t win? Impossible! The Tiger King was already bloodthirsty—how could those two skinny wretches possibly stand a chance?

Inside the cage, Mi Rui tightly pursed his lips, his nerves wound tight as he desperately dodged the tiger's pounces and bites. He couldn’t let his guard down for a second.

He had to survive. He couldn't die here—she was waiting for him.

If he gave up now, would that kind-hearted girl still have the courage to keep living in this hellhole?

The events of the past days spun through his mind like a zoetrope, just as people often see fleeting images before death.

The taste of blood and pain from biting his lip jolted him back, sharpening his focus.

The pain in his feet reminded him of something. Holding his breath, Mi Rui fixed his gaze on the glinting objects scattered across the arena and sprinted toward them again. With a swift motion, he grabbed a fistful of broken glass.

The glass bit into his skin, merciless, cutting into his palm before he could even act, leaving deep gashes.

The other man in the cage, seeing Mi Rui's move, his heart lurched in panic, almost sending him sprawling.

Luckily, he rolled against the cage just as the tiger crashed into the bars, momentarily dazed.

But even with the short breather, he didn’t dare relax. As long as one of them remained alive, this fight wouldn’t end.

Watching Mi Rui, he quickly weighed their chances of survival. Compared to this soldier, he stood little chance.

If Mi Rui killed the tiger, would it be easier to take him on afterward?

Calculations flashed through his mind. He decided to stay behind Mi Rui—wasn’t it a soldier’s duty to protect civilians like him?

Mi Rui, his focus entirely on the disoriented tiger shaking its head, barely spared the other man a glance. He snapped a quick order to attack together before leaping onto the tiger’s back. With all his strength, he slammed the glass into the beast’s eye.

The tiger roared in agony, rampaging around the cage.

Mi Rui clung to its back, one hand gripping the scruff of its neck while the other hammered blows into its skull.

The remaining man, frozen in fear, had scrambled up the cage bars after being knocked aside. No matter how the guards outside whipped him, he refused to let go.

Only when Mi Rui, utterly drained, finally subdued the tiger—its massive body trembling before collapsing—did the man drop and lunge at him.

This was his chance. If he didn’t strike now while Mi Rui was weakened, he’d never survive once the soldier recovered.

Mi Rui, limbs heavy, hadn’t even dismounted the tiger when a sudden dread seized him. He turned just in time to see the man’s feral grin.