Chapter 18: Eleven Consecutive Victories, The Zhou Sisters

"Jun Mo Xiao faces Iron Wrist—Jun Mo Xiao wins!"
After announcing the result, Wang Zizai seemed utterly drained, collapsing onto the edge of the audience seats.
This young man called Jun Mo Xiao, or rather Ye Tian, had brought him unparalleled shock, and along with it, a windfall of five million.
Five million—five million!
Money that an ordinary person couldn't earn in a lifetime, and he gained it from a single match.
"Damn, Jun Mo Xiao pulled off a stunning upset!"
"Who just bet on Jun Mo Xiao? They're rolling in it now—five hundred times the payout!"
Madness. Such odds were rarely seen in the arena's history, though not unheard of.
But for the odds to be so outrageous and for an upset to occur, tonight was a first.
It was simply absurd!
"You are truly remarkable, sir. I misjudged you, Mr. Jun Mo Xiao!" Wang Zizai said, watching Ye Tian step off the stage with calm composure. His own expression became awkward, and he forced a sheepish smile.
This world respected the strong, and the arena even more so.
For someone as formidable as Ye Tian—someone he didn't even have the right to probe—Wang Zizai had lost all arrogance.
If not to curry favor, at least he dared not joke anymore.
"Not as remarkable as you—you earned five million tonight," Ye Tian said, somewhat frustrated.
If only he'd thought to borrow some money from Wang Zizai before the match and bet on himself. That would have been a quicker way to make money.
"You're the remarkable one. I just got lucky."
"By the way, Mr. Ye, give me your account number. After settling up later, I'll transfer half the winnings to your card."
Ye Tian waved his hand dismissively.
"No need. I was only joking. Just keep arranging for me to go on stage."
What?
He wants to keep fighting?
Wang Zizai broke out in cold sweat.
This Mr. Ye, not only was his strength abnormal, but he seemed to have no qualms about killing.
Wang Zizai had once been a soldier, priding himself on surviving battlefields, but he hadn't expected to meet someone even more ruthless.
"Can you still fight?"
"I can fight. Of course, I can fight!"
This time, Wang Zizai dared not slack off, immediately entered Ye Tian's name into the lottery machine and loudly announced:
"This gentleman, Jun Mo Xiao, requests to continue. Next, we will randomly select from the previously registered contestants!"
"Damn, Jun Mo Xiao wants to fight again?"
"He's a real monster. Hurry, bet on him—put a hundred thousand on him!"
"He really kills without blinking, huh."
The audience, who had just been stunned, now scrambled to place their bets, eager not to miss another chance to make money.

This time, though, the situation was reversed.
The vast majority placed their bets on Jun Mo Xiao, and Ye Tian's odds flipped, now standing at 500 to 1.
"Next round: Jun Mo Xiao versus Lan Cai He."
In the second match, Ye Tian faced a tall woman covered in tattoos, a metal stud in her tongue. Under the spectators' gaze, he dispatched her with a single slap.
"My god, Jun Mo Xiao isn't human."
The audience was dumbfounded.
How could every opponent fall with just one move?
Someone couldn't help but comment, "Watching this guy's matches is truly devoid of suspense. He finishes it in one strike..."
Offstage.
Wang Zizai asked again, "Will you keep fighting?"
"With each additional round, your prize doubles, and there's no limit to the stacking."
"Fight!"
Immediately, Wang Zizai announced, "Jun Mo Xiao continues to defend the stage—prize doubles!"
"Damn, he's still going!"
Amid gasps of astonishment, another grandmaster-level contestant took the stage. Again, within two moves, he was knocked out.
This time, Ye Tian held back, merely knocking the opponent unconscious and kicking him off the platform.
Even though this place was called the arena of death, there was no requirement to kill. Victory was assured as long as the opponent was completely incapable of fighting back.
Ye Tian did it this way to encourage more challengers—otherwise, if he kept winning by killing, everyone would be scared off and he'd lose his chance to earn money.
Next, the fourth and fifth challengers entered.
Instant defeat!
Sixth, seventh...
Instant defeat—all of them!
Challengers filed up one after another, only to be knocked out in the blink of an eye. The pace was so fast, not even a second's pause.
Eleven consecutive matches, all the same!
Standing atop the stage, Ye Tian showed no sign of fatigue, utterly relaxed and at ease.
He looked at Wang Zizai. "Next."
Wang Zizai: "..."
"This is so boring."
In the audience, the spectators had become completely numb, not even interested in betting anymore.
"What kind of person is this... In such a huge arena, with so many experts, is there no one who can beat him?"
"You don't know anything," someone retorted immediately.
"The one who just fell—that was the Ghost General, a grandmaster in his own right, and he was taken down with one move."
"How many grandmasters does he have to fight?"

With those words, the sound of people gasping echoed everywhere.
Where did this god of slaughter come from—send him back where he came!
Just as everyone was grumbling, Wang Zizai finally spoke up. "Mr. Ye, your prize has doubled to two million. How about we call it a night?"
"Fine, I'm tired of fighting, too." Ye Tian shook his arm. Repeating the same movement over and over was indeed dull.
Two million should be enough.
If he ever needed more money, he could always come back.
Wang Zizai finally breathed a sigh of relief.
If Ye Tian kept going, the prize could have doubled to tens of billions, and they simply didn't have that much money.
Losing two million... When the boss returned, he'd surely be furious.
Soon, someone arrived with a large suitcase.
"Two million in cash. Please check."
"Mm."
Ye Tian took the suitcase, opened it for a glance, then closed it. In such a prominent arena, there was no reason to use counterfeit bills.
"I'll walk you out," Wang Zizai quickly offered, catching up.
"Mr. Ye, were you in the military?" Wang Zizai asked, carrying the suitcase and walking alongside him.
"No."
How strange, Wang Zizai thought.
This man carried a heavy aura of death, like a dragon crawling out from a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood. Ordinary people might not sense it.
But someone who had fought for his life could tell the difference.
"We've arrived. I won't see you out any further."
"Thank you."
Ye Tian was about to thank him when the elevator doors suddenly opened.
Two muscular henchmen, bare-chested, emerged, each carrying a woman.
The tattoos on their bodies looked familiar.
Ye Tian suddenly remembered.
The markings on these two men were the same as those on the group that followed the Zhou sisters.
"Wait."
A large hand suddenly reached out, grabbing the two thugs.
The black hoods covering the two women's heads fell off!
As their hair spilled out, the faces of the sisters Zhou Man Yun and Zhou Xiao Xiao appeared before Ye Tian's eyes.