Chapter 18: Small Shoes

Perhaps it was because Killsoul was indeed more wolf than human that his vitality stubbornly clung on like wild grass.

Half an hour later, Killsoul slowly awakened. Not only was he conscious, but he could also speak, though his voice was weak from blood loss.

Ye Zhengliu was overjoyed. She immediately gave him half a bowl of water to drink, and under Killsoul’s direction, dug up three hardened rice balls from his straw pile.

Ye Zhengliu: “…”

She felt her excitement at Killsoul’s awakening had somehow transformed into an overwhelming urge to laugh at the absurdity.

When did he hide these?

Wait, do wolves even store food?

Those rice balls were all shaped by Killsoul himself. His craftsmanship was no match for Ye Zhengliu’s; the three rice balls were loose and awkwardly shaped.

Holding Killsoul’s exclusive rations, Ye Zhengliu cast a complicated look at her roommate.

At that moment, Killsoul lay weakly on the ground, pale and feeble, but ravenously hungry and able to eat.

Ye Zhengliu: “…”

Now she was certain—Killsoul would recover.

He devoured the three rice balls greedily, then promptly fell into a deep sleep.

When the prison guard came to deliver the evening meal, Killsoul, driven by his internal clock, stubbornly rose on his own without even leaning on Ye Zhengliu.

Ye Zhengliu: “…”

Impressive. That was very Killsoul.

After consuming a steaming bowl of fresh bean rice and a piece of salted dried fish, Killsoul’s complexion visibly improved and he could respond to Ye Zhengliu’s questions as usual.

For example, how had he ended up in such a state?

Given Killsoul’s combat prowess, even if newcomers arrived at the arena, no one should have been his equal.

His answer was simple: his opponents ganged up on him.

Ye Zhengliu: “…”

This time, Killsoul faced not one-on-one combat, but one against many.

---

His opponents numbered a full fifteen, each equipped with cards.

The fighter who battled him till the very end wielded twin blades with masterful skill and, empowered by his cards, possessed immense strength.

The bloody hole in Killsoul’s thigh was carved out by this opponent.

“He stabbed my leg; I chopped off his head,” Killsoul said calmly, recounting the perilous one-for-one exchange. “I was wounded, he died, and I survived.”

Hearing this, Ye Zhengliu finally exhaled deeply.

But Killsoul wasn’t finished.

Perhaps recalling how much Ye Zhengliu had cared about this, he added after a pause, “There were spectators.”

Ye Zhengliu jolted: “Spectators? Who?”

“That flashy one,” Killsoul frowned instinctively. “The little white flower…”

With a keyword search, Ye Zhengliu quickly recalled the backstory behind that nickname.

“Mu Yaoguang? Why is he everywhere lately?”

She frowned suspiciously, suddenly connecting another thought—

Wait, Mu Yaoguang was present during Killsoul’s fight.

And he was also there during Ye Zhengliu’s own bout.

Killsoul’s match began and ended earlier than hers. In other words, this person had watched Killsoul’s desperate fight against overwhelming odds before coming to see Ye Zhengliu’s underdog victory.

No wonder Ye Zhengliu had noticed Mu Yaoguang standing right behind her.

At the time, she had even been curious why he wasn’t watching from the second floor.

Now it seemed Mu Yaoguang had just come from Killsoul’s arena.

The thought that while she and Killsoul fought fiercely for survival, Mu Yaoguang could look down from above, treating their struggle like a live concert, hopping from one event to another, stirred a deep resentment in her heart.

Yet this displeasure did not cloud her judgment.

Ye Zhengliu soon realized Mu Yaoguang probably wasn’t there for her.

He was likely scouting her opponent—the swamp man with eighty-four wins.

---

The prison guard had confirmed that Mu Yaoguang was currently assembling an elite squad by handpicking fighters from the arena.

From this perspective, Killsoul’s sudden plunge into an unusual one-against-fifteen battle might have been a selection trial.

Then what about her opponent? How could a top-tier fighter be matched with a mere six-win rookie like herself? Was the outcome already decided, a fixed match?

If so, Mu Yaoguang's strange expression when watching her wouldn’t have been admiration or hunger.

It would have been shock at seeing a carefully arranged fixed match unexpectedly backfire.

Ye Zhengliu: “…”

Realizing this, her expression grew peculiar.

Question: If you fiercely eliminated the employee who was supposed to win, will the company start giving you trouble next?

—Definitely. What else did you expect?

Killsoul keenly noticed her odd mood and stared at her intently, full of inquiry.

Ye Zhengliu said solemnly, “First, congratulations. You might soon leave here and be taken away.”

“...Oh.” Killsoul’s reply was slow.

He still didn’t understand what that meant, tilting his head in confusion, his cold eyes brimming with bewilderment.

Ye Zhengliu sighed and said gravely, “And you should pray for me, because I might also leave here soon and be taken directly away.”

“...Is it not the same?”

“Probably not.” Ye Zhengliu swiped open her system page, revealing her card pool for drawing.

Having cared for Killsoul, she had almost forgotten about the ten-card draw she had painstakingly saved up.

She had just bathed, and according to superstition, this should be her luckiest moment.

“Let’s see if I can draw something to save my life…”

As she spoke, her fingers hovered over the ten draws on the screen.