The crowd erupted into deafening cheers as Zhao Feng ground his heel into Ye Chen’s skull. Outer disciples surged against the stone barriers, shouting insults and throwing fruit rinds into the pit, desperate to win favor with the young master.
Blood bubbled between Ye Chen’s teeth, soaking the dirt beneath his cheek. The pain in his chest felt like crushed glass grinding against raw meat, but the blue screen pulsing in his vision kept him tethered to the physical world.
$$Alert: Vital signs at twenty percent. Dantian structural failure imminent.$$
"Take this mongrel away," Zhao Feng commanded, stepping back to wipe his boot on the granite floor. "Feed his limbs to the iron hounds behind the slaughterhouse, and leave his skull on the gate post as a warning to the outer ring."
Two enforc
