My mom is waiting for treatment, and you're summoning me to be a hero?

Lin Mo followed Zhan Xin through a narrow stone passageway.

At the end of the passageway was a half-open iron gate, through which the light coming in was much brighter than inside the cage.

This is the preparation area for the arena.

The two sat down in the preparation area, a semi-open cubicle enclosed by iron railings, directly opposite the sandy arena.

Zhanxin pulled a crumpled parchment report from the wooden shelf on the wall, flipped through a couple of pages, and frowned deeply.

"Hmm—today we're facing three orcs, this is a bit troublesome."

Lin Mo didn't care at all.

His gaze swept over the iron bars, across the layers of stands surrounding the arena.

The stands were packed with spectators, including humans, elves, dwarves, orcs, and many other races he couldn't name.

Everyone was dressed in lavish, almost extravagant, clothing, and holding wine glasses or gambling tickets.

His face wore that kind of smile unique to places of indulgence, a smile of being engrossed in excitement.

Shouts, whistles, and the rustling sound of bills being crumpled and thrown into the air mingled together, creating a deafening cacophony.

"It seems there are quite a few people watching."

He looked away, his tone indifferent.

"A large part of them came to see you."

Zhan Xin tossed the parchment report into Lin Mo's arms and leaned back in his chair.

Lin Mo was taken aback: "There are still people coming to see me? Didn't I just get arrested?"

There was a hint of helplessness in Zhanxin's tone.

"See for yourself. Making a scene in the street and attempting to murder the God of Delight. No one has done this for hundreds of years. The news of you killing someone on that street by the island has spread throughout the entire island. Now everyone knows that a new black-robed human dares to draw his sword in the Land of Debauchery."

Lin Mo took the report and flipped through it casually.

The report was filled with detailed data about today's fight.

Basic information about the two teams, and the percentage of bets placed by spectators in the stands.

His gaze swept between the "orc support rate" and the "human support rate".

Zhanxin continued speaking from the side, his finger drawing a faint line on the report.

"The bets outside are pretty much settled. The orcs on the other side can exert 100% of their power. After all, those spectators are here to see you get humiliated. Of course, you don't need to worry too much. I've been waiting here for two hundred years, and I've accumulated quite a few fans. I can guarantee that I can exert at least 50% of my power each time."

Lin Mo frowned: "And what about me? I'm just an ordinary person?"

Zhanxin smiled, shrugged, and explained.

"Some viewers don't look at the players but only at the race, and they bet a lot of money on the human team as a whole. That money can restore some of your strength, about 10%."

Upon hearing that he could unleash 10% of his full strength, Lin Mo secretly began to calculate in his mind.

Ten percent of the team can handle this match without much problem; the key is how to get out of here.

I can't stay here forever as a gladiator champion.

Zhanxin turned his head and looked at Lin Mo's still calm face, clearly misunderstanding the silence.

He mistook Lin Mo's silence for nervousness, so he reached out and patted Lin Mo on the shoulder.

His tone was unusually comforting.

"Don't worry, just watch my performance. If I perform well during the competition, some people will raise the bets. I'll get stronger and stronger. Three orcs are nothing, we've fought them before."

Temporary additional betting.

Lin Mo's lips curled into a slight smile.

It seems we can take advantage of this rule.

Thinking this, he put the report aside and placed his right hand on the hilt of the black sword.

……

About ten minutes later, a loud, almost piercing voice came from outside the preparation area.

The sound was amplified by the laws, and every syllable clearly penetrated every corner of the arena.

"Welcome everyone to this match! Humans versus Orcs! First up are the Orcs—! Vol'tong! Vol'yin! Vol'jin! The three brothers!"

A deafening roar erupted from the stands; some people stood up waving betting tickets, while others stomped their feet on the floor, creating a synchronized booming sound.

The gate on the other side of the arena slowly rose, and three burly figures strode out of the darkness.

Leading the way was an orc with bronze-colored skin, a black iron eyepatch over his right eye, and a two-handed battle axe as tall as himself slung over his shoulder.

Following closely behind was a tall, thin orc with silver-gray skin, two recurved daggers at his waist.

At the very back was a golden-skinned orc, the smallest in size but with the most muscular build. He was empty-handed, carrying no weapons, but his fists were wrapped with barbed chains.

When Zhanxin saw these three people, his brows furrowed tightly.

"It was the three of them. This is troublesome."

"Are they very strong?"

Lin Mo's gaze swept over the three orcs, his tone remaining calm.

Zhanxin nodded and straightened up from the back of the chair.

"Wotong, Woyin, and Wojin—the three brothers, demigod level experts. Anyone who has fought them has either died or been sent to a lower level of prison. Moreover, their teamwork is extremely seamless. As far as I know, they have never met their match in this arena. I fought two of them once before, and we were broken up in less than fifty moves. In the end, we only managed to survive by stalling for time until the end of the match."

Lin Mo silently made plans in his mind.

The demigods worked together seamlessly.

I have enough of my own strength; I just need to think about how to get more people to suppress me.

If we could take advantage of this duel to kill Huan Yu, that would be ideal.

At this moment, the host's voice rang out again, with a hint of schadenfreude and mockery in his tone.

"Now, please welcome the human team's contestants! Sword God—Zhanxin! And..."

He deliberately dragged out the last syllable, raising his voice amidst the laughter of the audience in the stands.

"The insect that attacked the god of pleasure—the black-robed idiot!"

A burst of laughter erupted from the stands.

Someone folded the betting tickets into paper airplanes and threw them towards the war zone.

Some people were banging their glasses on the railing of the stands, making a fuss.

Some people even shouted "Black-robed idiot" at the top of their lungs.

Hearing himself addressed in this way, Lin Mo's face darkened.

Zhan Xin glanced back at him, a rare, almost imperceptible smile appearing on his cold, hard face.

Then he stood up, hoisted his longsword onto his shoulder, and the iron gate slowly rose, the arena lights streaming in through the cracks, casting a long shadow of him.

He took two steps and then stopped, turning his head to give Lin Mo a word of advice, his tone returning to its usual calm and steady manner.

"I might not be able to take care of you this time. I'm not confident I can handle the three brothers working together. You'll have to rely on yourself then."

Lin Mo took a deep breath and slowly drew the black sword from its sheath.