"Lin, the expert you're waiting for won't be able to save Lin Mo..."

"In this world, only I can save her."

"Join me, Lin... I can give you everything you desire."

Lin Zhiquin lurked quietly in a corner of the first floor, tightly pressing his lips together, unable to shake off certain words echoing in his mind like a nightmare.

"RUSTLE—"

The sound of footsteps came from upstairs.

Immediately, Lin Zhiquin held his breath, staying as still as a rock.

Footsteps quickly descended from the second floor.

When they reached the staircase, something seemed to be triggered, and the sound of a taut rope twanging rang out.

"THUD!"

Accompanied by a sudden scream.

He quickly moved from his hiding spot, running silently across the floor like a cat.

In no time, he was at the staircase.

A man lay between the first and second floors, wearing a mask. His arm and shoulder were pierced by two short spears, pinning him firmly to the floor. He was struggling fiercely.

Seeing Lin Zhiquin, the Blood Fighter's eyes displayed tension and ferocity. He struggled even more violently.

A growl sounded from beneath the mask, as if warning him.

Lin Zhiquin's gaze was icy. He quickly approached, raised a fist, and struck the man's head heavily.

The man immediately passed out.

Then, Lin Zhiquin began pulling out the short spears. He quickly used bandages and medicine he had prepared to stop the bleeding.

After doing all this, he quietly retreated from the building and slipped into a neighboring house.

Then, he swiftly started setting new traps.

He set the trap on the lower level.

This was because most Blood Fighters entered houses from the top level.

"The 24th one."

Lin Zhiquin muttered a number in his mind.

This was the twenty-fourth Blood Fighter he had defeated.

The victory points might be higher because some fighters had already accumulated a certain amount. Once defeated, all their points would naturally transfer to the victor.

Lin Zhiquin was very cautious.

So far, he had not directly confronted any Blood Fighters.

He relied entirely on sneak attacks and traps to win.

This underhanded tactic was also considered within the rules.

After all, for the rituals of the God of Martial Arts and Hunting, besides martial combat, there was also hunting, and hunting included strategy.

"PITTER-PATTER—"

The sound of rain began outside the house.

On the rooftop and the streets outside, the sounds of intense and hurried footfalls could be heard.

Lin Zhiquin cautiously peeked through a crack in the window.

He saw many people rushing in the same direction, their emotions urgent and excited, as if they were about to partake in a grand hunt.

Lin Zhiquin furrowed his brows. He was suspicious but didn't blindly follow.

He needed to be careful.

Because... he only had one chance.

Soon, the footsteps faded. The area gradually returned to its previous tranquility, with only the sound of rain tapping against the windows remaining.

For a long while, no one came.

Lin Zhiquin remained patient, without the slightest hint of restlessness.

Three years ago, he had observed a final Bloody Battle of Mosa as a spectator, learning that such an opportunity for 'hunting' only came once.

Soon, the rules would drive all Blood Fighters toward the central pyramid.

There, a new round of bloody combat would unfold. That would be the most difficult time.

Before that, besides gathering as many victory points as possible, he needed to conserve his strength and energy, avoid injury, and maintain good physical condition.

Time ticked by. Faint sounds of intense fighting could be heard from afar.

But it seemed to have nothing to do with Lin Zhiquin.

While waiting for his 'prey' to arrive, he glanced up at the sky through the window crack.

The large screens all around displayed scenes of carnage. Lin Zhiquin didn't pay them much attention, instead focusing on the leaderboard that tallied victory points.

Although the number of names on the leaderboard, initially in the thousands, was constantly decreasing, finding his own was still not an easy task.

At a glance, Lin Zhiquin saw a title whose points were rapidly escalating—Feast Eater!

His pupils slightly contracted; a figure quickly flashed across his mind.

But he quickly recovered.

In a battleground filled with thousands, it was hardly unusual for titles to overlap.

His title, Mountain Goat, was also shared by many others, necessitating the addition of a corresponding serial number for differentiation.

He eventually found his rank: Mountain Goat (9), Victory Points: 51.

Redeeming a vial of Divine Blood required 10,000 victory points. He currently had 51.

Still so far to go...

Lin Zhiquin quietly calculated in his mind. He slowly clenched his fists, then relaxed once again.

"POUR—"

In the pouring rain, chaotic footsteps sounded once again.

This time, the footfalls were much more disorganized than before, as if many people were fleeing.

Lin Zhiquin frowned, intending to investigate.

Suddenly, a short scream pierced the air near him.

"Argh!"

His expression shifted, and he silently rose to his feet.

But before he could make a move, he heard voices.

"Damn it, someone set a trap here!"

"He must still be in the house!"

"Don't let him get away!"

Footsteps rapidly approached from all directions, closing in.

Lin Zhiquin tensed slightly. He instantly abandoned his plan to engage and, without hesitation, smashed through the window, bursting out of the house.

"He's running! Over there!"

"Cut him off!"

Several figures lunged at Lin Zhiquin from different directions.

Lin Zhiquin immediately executed the Crane Sect's movement technique, attempting to quickly create distance between himself and the men.

"SWOOSH—"

A faint sound of something slicing through the air suddenly echoed behind him.

His heart leaped in alarm, and he hurriedly twisted his body to dodge.

"THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!"

Three crossbow bolts lodged deeply into the cement floor, their fletching still trembling violently.

One crossbow bolt had brushed past Lin Zhiquin's cheek.

He instinctively glanced in the direction the bolt had come from. On a nearby second-floor balcony, a young man holding a compound crossbow stood, coldly aiming at him.

Men slowly began to surround him.

"Shameless bastard! To think you'd set traps!"

The leader, a burly, middle-aged man with squinting eyes and a fierce expression, spat on the ground. He glared at Lin Zhiquin and snarled, "I was already seething, and then I run into a sneaky bastard like you... Don't let him leave here alive!"

The others grunted in agreement, their cold eyes slowly closing in on Lin Zhiquin as they encircled him.

Their eyes were full of undisguised murderous intent.

"Two martial masters, two Cultivating Bone..."

Lin Zhiquin swiftly gauged the men's approximate strength. His face turned slightly pale.

He wasn't too afraid of being surrounded by these four. The main problem was the man with the compound crossbow constantly aiming at him. During the fight, he would inevitably have to divert some attention to guard against the crossbow, adding many variables.

"There's no choice; I have to fight. Try to find a chance to escape!"

Lin Zhiquin took a deep breath and quickly made his decision. His eyes turned cold, ready to face the impending battle.

Just then, the expressions of the men facing him suddenly changed drastically. They stared in the direction behind him as if they had seen a ghost.

The men, who had been rubbing their fists and preparing for a fight, abruptly turned and fled without a word, disappearing in an instant.

"Huh...?"

Lin Zhiquin froze, then instinctively turned around.

His eyes met a vast shadow.

In the pouring rain, a towering figure, over two meters tall, loomed over him like a dark cloud.

An invisible oppressive force, carried by the airborne mist, felt like a terrifying tidal wave about to crash down, bringing wave after wave of heavy suffocation.

"GULP—"

Lin Zhiquin's Adam's apple bobbed. His scalp tingled, and his body tensed.

He slowly lifted his head, until... he met a pair of calm, profound eyes, as dark as a ten-thousand-meter-deep sea.

A hoarse yet somewhat familiar voice came from beneath the mask.

Lin Zhiquin heard the man say softly, "Yesterday... was your birthday, wasn't it? Happy birthday... Coach."

"Uh..." Lin Zhiquin froze on the spot, as if struck by lightning, motionless and speechless for a long moment.

「… … …」

"Feast Eater, Victory Points: 1,032."

"TAP—TAP—TAP—"

The Tyrant King reclined on the Iron Spear Throne, his cheek resting in one hand. His thick forefinger tapped gently, rhythmically, on the armrest as he expressionlessly surveyed everything below.

"My lord, should we..." The man in the silver mask beside him began, but the Tyrant King cut him off.

"Leave it." The Tyrant King squinted, his gaze fixed on a figure on the field below. A smirk touched his lips. "Now, I'm actually starting to look forward to this Blasphemer making his way to me... Prepare for the next phase."

"Yes, my lord." The man in the silver mask nodded. He was about to issue orders when the Tyrant King stopped him again.

"But a Blasphemer is a Blasphemer, after all..." The Tyrant King pointed to a specific area below where the figure was located and sneered, "That area... give it some special attention."

The man in the silver mask paused, startled for a moment, then quickly understood. He nodded and hurried off to make the arrangements.

The Tyrant King remained seated alone on his throne, gazing down at the vast "City without a Top" Bloody Battle arena. A glint flickered in his eyes, his thoughts unreadable.

「… … …」

"WHOOSH—"

Several large red boxes fell from the dome above.

The moment the red boxes began to fall, numerous Blood Fighters charged madly towards their projected landing sites.

"They even have airdrop boxes?" Lu Yuan blinked, a surprised expression on his face.

"You could say that." Lin Zhiquin, standing beside him, nodded and explained, "They contain many valuable pieces of equipment and items, like advanced protective gear, super-alloy weapons, potions for temporary combat enhancement, and so on... They're specifically designed to incentivize Blood Fighters to engage in more intense combat. It's just..."

Lin Zhiquin frowned as he watched the few red supply boxes rapidly descending in the distance. "Logically, one Blood Battle box should drop in each zone. Although the locations are random, it's impossible... there isn't a single one near us."

A total of four red supply boxes fell from the sky, but all of them landed quite far from their position. It would take a significant amount of time to reach them.

"Maybe we're just unlucky," Lu Yuan replied casually, though his eyes discreetly flickered towards the top of the pyramid.

"We still have to fight for them. Don't underestimate the importance of equipment. If you can get your hands on some, your combat power will significantly increase, and you'll have a better chance in the subsequent ladder battles..." Lin Zhiquin spoke quickly, his eyes fixed on the distant drop locations of the supply boxes. It seemed he was already strategizing for Lu Yuan.

Lu Yuan looked at Lin Zhiquin's profile, hidden beneath the mask, and suddenly interjected, "If I take the equipment, how will you win, Coach?"

Lin Zhiquin was momentarily stunned. Then he fell silent, enveloped by a wave of complex emotions.

After a moment, he lifted his head, about to speak.

Just then, plumes of crimson smoke billowed up from the ground, spreading rapidly in all directions.

Seeing this, Lin Zhiquin's expression immediately changed.

"The ladder battle is about to begin! The smoke isn't poisonous, but if it touches you, you're eliminated immediately... We need to get to the pyramid, quickly!"

Lu Yuan, however, watched with a fascinated expression, murmuring to himself, "So soon? Is the final zone already shrinking...?"

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