Chapter Seventy-Four: The Storytelling Madman

Luo Hanya fixed his gaze on the rankings, scanning from top to bottom. He noticed that the top ten were still the same as before, mostly dominated by leaders of various studios. Kazama Liuli, the ace of Radiant Studio, firmly held the second place, while Deathlord, the head of Nightshade Studio, was third. Yet, what struck him as odd was the first place—an anonymous entry.

He looked over the list again and chuckled to himself. Last time, he had chosen to challenge the eighty-second spot—not because that was his limit, but simply because that particular opponent was available for an immediate match. This time, however, he wasn't so lucky; everyone on the rankings was marked as busy, temporarily unavailable for battle.

Feeling a bit disappointed, Luo Hanya decided to head over to the adjacent arena for some diversion. He donned his Mask of Madness, letting its external effect conceal his face, and set himself as anonymous before entering the arena.

The arena was a vast plaza, encircled by rows upon rows of seats. At this hour, it was almost deserted, with hardly a soul to be seen. Luo Hanya paused for a moment, then walked forward and approached a young man called Silver Hand, who was seated nearby. "Hey, brother, can I ask you something? Why is there no one in the arena?"

Silver Hand glanced at Luo Hanya and was startled by his mask. Then, his curiosity piqued, he stared closely at Luo Hanya’s face. “Hey, where did you get that mask? It even has a special effect? That’s pretty neat.”

Seeing that Silver Hand was about to launch into an endless stream of words, Luo Hanya quickly interrupted him. “It’s a special reward from a scenario. But can you tell me what’s going on in the arena right now?”

Silver Hand’s eyes remained fixed on the mask as he replied, “There are two kinds of battles here. One is player versus player—usually when people have a grudge or got into a conflict during a scenario and need an outlet for their anger, they come here to settle it. The other is when top players arrange duels, either to hone their skills or due to studio rivalries.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “You know, just a few days ago there was a huge showdown here—Kazama Liuli and Deathlord faced off in a duel right in this arena.”

“What? Really? That actually happened?” Luo Hanya drew a sharp breath, hardly able to believe such an event had taken place.

“Of course! You don’t get it, do you? Their fight was all about studio rivalry. Radiant Studio and Nightshade Studio are mortal enemies, and those two are each studio’s top dog. Of course they have to settle who’s superior—how else do you attract talent?” Silver Hand said, clearly proud of his knowledge. “It was a true clash of titans—neither giving an inch, the battle raged on as if the very heavens were in turmoil and the sun and moon lost their light. They fought for three hundred rounds! In the end, Kazama Liuli narrowly won by a single move, but both proved themselves peerless masters. After the fight, they exchanged words with mutual respect before finally parting. True paragons, those two.”

Luo Hanya watched Silver Hand ramble on as if he were a storyteller, unable to suppress a wry smile. He finally cut in, “Brother, that match really was incredible, but could you—”

“Right? Haha, I knew you’d appreciate it. Here, let me tell you the best part—at the one hundred seventieth round, Kazama Liuli—” Silver Hand laughed heartily, as if he’d found a kindred spirit, ready to reenact the scene in vivid detail.

Luo Hanya looked on, speechless, as the storyteller droned on. He tried several times to interrupt. “Brother—”

“Are you asking about the seventy-eighth round? I’ll tell you—at that point, Deathlord seized the initiative with a move called Netherworld Descends—”

“Brother—”

“But the most exciting moment was the three-hundredth round! Kazama Liuli suddenly leapt to the highest heavens—a move called Immortal Beyond the Sky, impossible to withstand—”

“Brother!”

Seeing that he could not get a word in edgewise with this incorrigible raconteur, Luo Hanya quietly slipped away, leaving Silver Hand there gesticulating enthusiastically, spittle flying, completely oblivious to his companion’s departure.

“Hey, let me tell you—” Silver Hand paused to catch his breath, reaching out as if to share some even juicier details with Luo Hanya, only to grasp empty air. “Huh? Hey, where’d you go? I wasn’t done yet!”

Hearing the distant shouts behind him, Luo Hanya shivered, relieved, exhaling a long breath as if a great burden had been lifted. He felt light as air, his steps swift as the wind, and dared not look back as he raced away from that troublesome place.

When Luo Hanya reached the center of the arena, he finally discovered the posted rules. It turned out that formal duels only began at eight in the evening; at other times, the available activity was the Death Game. The Death Game had three formats: one-on-one, two-on-two, and five-on-five. In the one-on-one mode, both players would be transported into a scenario to battle to the death, with the victor earning generous rewards. The two-on-two and five-on-five modes were team battles, designed to avoid uncooperative or reckless teammates who might sabotage the match.

To ensure balance, the system matched opponents of similar skill levels for the Death Game. To maintain competitiveness, scenarios were crafted to prevent players from passively hiding and wasting their opponents' time.

There was also a free-for-all mode: five players were transported into a scenario, and the last one standing would be the winner. In this mode, everything was random—you might be matched with a true master or a total novice. If you found yourself up against a formidable opponent, you could always band together with the other three to take down the expert, then fight among yourselves afterward. Free-for-all scenarios were highly flexible; a cunning player could even leverage others’ strength to defeat stronger foes.

The Death Game had spawned a group of lone-wolf combat specialists—players who cared nothing for scenario puzzles and had no interest in strange riddles. They made their home in the Death Game, their personal combat skills second to none among solo players. Such individuals were precisely the kind coveted by every major studio.