I'm a magnetic field madman

Serene dared not speak again, while Tauriel immediately ordered his men to bring over all the prepared gladiators.

Lacas wanted to observe the vitality of his research target up close and was considering his approach to studying this biological sample.

Of course, don't get me wrong, Lacas wouldn't do something as low-level as slicing.

To put it bluntly, people who think that biological research only involves slides are definitely ignorant in this area.

As for associating research experiments on the Bloodline with Frankenstein's monsters and human sticks—that's blatant stereotyping!

You have insulted the Bloodline people's history of hundreds of thousands of years, and I demand that you correct it immediately!

In short, at least in the early stages of the research, Lacas would likely prefer to use smaller experimental components to achieve his research objectives...

But before that, he had to determine if the experimental objective was worthwhile enough for him to put aside his current research projects.

This was undoubtedly a very difficult task, after all, cloning the Primarch wasn't a particularly remarkable job for Lacus, though of course, he couldn't solve those psionic problems...

"Then, let the gladiatorial combat begin."

11. Unrivaled in the Arena

Krom had to admit that the scene before him was so bizarre that he was at a loss for what to do.

All the stinking farts were there, cheering and howling like madmen. Krom's eyes were glazed over... but he clearly knew that the cheers were not directed at him.

And standing in the arena, besides the eight Space Marines, a Tyranid, and a Tau, there was only one other person left.

A...human?

Forgive Krom's skepticism; he had already seen far too many monsters and monstrosities in the Comoros.

Even a seemingly harmless child could be a formidable host for a demon. A defenseless alien could unleash a torrent of neurotoxins at any moment.

Especially when a Space Marine wearing power armor painted with a space wolf pattern fell at the boy's feet.

Krom's eyes instantly turned blood red!

A surge of primal instinct erupted in his mind; the Wolf Spiral was igniting Krom's bestial nature!

He struggled to clench his mouth tightly with the four canines that had grown from his mouth, using the blood to soothe his bestial nature and the pain to suppress his murderous intent.

He must stay calm, he must stay calm.

He wasn't the only one fighting here; there were also two damned traitors and two aliens he needed to be wary of!

Oh right, there are also two Dark Angels.

Ruth, those two are probably the ones we need to be most wary of among everyone here...

The scene was unusually quiet; it was clear that all the other Space Marines and the Tau man, Anselm, felt that it was wrong to stand out.

This calm only fueled the discontent of many spectators, who booed and threw not-so-fresh purple fruit onto the field, some even hitting Krom on the head.

It seems that expressing one's dissatisfaction with less-than-fresh fruits and vegetables is a universal method.

Krom was furious, but he forced himself to calm down.

The boy looked around, his gaze lingering on Krom for a moment before a playful smile appeared on his face.

This sent a chill down Krom's spine.

However, this awkward tranquility was soon broken... because the chains on the Tyranid Lord were finally unlocked.

With its spiky carapace and six powerful limbs, this is the nest master of a gene-stealer.

Although gene stealers are at the lowest level of the combat sequence in the Tyranid swarm, the hive master is definitely not in that category!

A single-molecule blade that can easily cut through Terminator armor, a shell strong enough to defend against large-caliber explosive guns, and an extremely high level of intelligence that belies its appearance.

Hivemasters have always been one of the most difficult enemies for Space Marines.

To most people who don't know them, the Terran Swarm is a race that relies solely on cannon fodder to kill people—but this is a clear prejudice. In reality, the quality of the Terran Swarm's units has never been low, and their swarm is not lacking in units that can compete with the Astartes!

The beast was dragged onto the stage amidst the shoving, whipping, and cursing of the slave owners, where it immediately calmed down.

Krom saw the gleam of intelligence shining in its bright eyes.

The beast master ordered his men to unlock the nest master's chains, and its captors hurriedly left.

It crouched down. A drooling, barbed tongue, as blue as its carapace, bounced between its sharp teeth, and then instantly pounced on the boy in front of it!

It was incredibly fast! Even from the Space Marine's perspective, it was just a blur.

Just when Crom thought the boy's outer skin would soon be torn away, revealing the mess underneath, something shocking happened.

The boy rode onto the hive lord's head even faster, and just before the monomolecular claws that could easily cut through any armor fell, he slammed his fist into its carapace.

The armor shell, which could easily defend against explosive guns, was smashed in half by this single punch!

With a pair of fists?

"By All Father... is he a psionicist?"

"Krom murmured, for he saw the electric current crackling around the boy's fist the moment it came down," he said.

Just like their wolf pack priests using psionic powers, the strange thing is that the surrounding temperature doesn't change at all when psionic powers are used.

He didn't understand psionic powers, but Lacas did.

"Interesting, really interesting..."

Lacas watched with great interest the boy who was smashing Tyrannosaurus with his fists, his vicious and terrifying eyes filled with a long-lost desire to explore.

Honestly, it's not difficult, in fact, quite easy, to do this using psionic energy.

The problem is that the boy's hands and feet are wrapped with anti-psychic devices... Unless he is an "Alpha" level psychic in the human classification system, it is impossible for him to be unaffected by the Helm of Hatred.

Moreover, even if the psionic energy were forcibly broken, the agonizing torment released by the Helm of Resentment due to the psionic reaction would make him wish he were dead, and at the same time, forcibly breaking it would also cause the chains to shatter.

But the chains were still intact, which meant that his ability was not some kind of psychic power.

Lacas sniffed. It was a biological material he had extracted from a race called the "Bukaki," a race without eyes or ears...

This creature uses its sense of smell to transmit signals to the brain, allowing it to distinguish the composition of most substances in the air.

It can even detect things that are not covered by the sense of smell.

"Lightning, bioelectricity? No, interesting. That punch just now completely disintegrated the intermolecular interactions on that Tyrannosaurus Rex carapace..."

Lacas grinned, his black tongue, longer than a snake's, darting deep into his mouth to capture more of the air and analyze the power that intrigued him.

The battle in the arena had reached its climax after the Tyranid Lord's tongue was forcibly ripped off.

The boy's fighting style was incredibly ferocious, and he displayed a completely one-sided advantage!

The thunderous fist shattered the sky-blue carapace on the nest master's body, and a surge of electricity coursed through his body, rendering the monster's entire body unresponsive to neuronal stimulation and control.

Immediately afterward, during the one and a half seconds of paralysis created, the boy directly ripped off the Nest Master's most deadly tongue and two sharp claws!

He held them in his hands and weighed them in his hand. He wielded the two blood-red claws as if they were two daggers, and began to dance wildly the moment the Nest Master turned around!

This time, it wasn't the whirlwind-like sword dance.

Instead, it was a thrust from the hand at an extremely fast speed, like a dazzling meteor shooting out in an instant.

This latest and most spectacular technical performance elicited even louder cheers from the Dark Eldar present!

Krom finally understood what those sweaty, farting bastards were cheering about.

The dance and beauty of battle transcend race; peak martial arts are no different from dance, just like Sigismund, the Black Knight who was once the greatest warrior below the Primarch...

A white-scarred hunting master who can dance a sword dance with a Tau commander and even smell his body odor...

Crom wouldn't praise the splendid dance, because he knew they would be the next ones to get beaten up!

Soon, the terrifying hive master collapsed with a crash, along with numerous gaping holes in its body and the corrosive blood flowing out...

The boy threw out two sharp claws, instantly and precisely tearing off the Nest Master's head, making it one of the corpses scattered throughout the arena.

An undeniable and absolute victory, the magnificent kiss of the daggers drew even louder cheers from the audience!

What's not to like?

For such a low ticket price, you get to enjoy such a high level of continuous gladiatorial combat!

The boy seemed quite pleased with the cheers. He raised his hand and gestured towards the dark spirits, which actually triggered an even louder cheer!

The essence of worshipping the strong is etched deep in the genes of every life, especially in the Comoros.

This made Krom very unhappy.

On one hand, there was a strange sense of jealousy that he himself was unwilling to admit... After all, no warrior wants to be the weakling who goes unnoticed.

An even bigger factor was that Crom was disgusted by the human's "friendly" attitude towards the alien.

"Looks like you get along really well with these stinky farts."

Before Krom could speak, the two traitors from the Eighth Legion spoke in a sarcastic tone. Bai Qian Shuang merely glanced at them and replied in her halting High Gothic language, completely unconcerned…

"A crow stands on a pig."

Although he didn't quite understand what it meant, Krom accurately caught the sarcasm in it—

It's ridiculous that a group of self-degrading people are here mocking those who share the same unfortunate circumstances but are even more capable.

The two traitors from the Eighth Legion were enraged and began to hurl insults at each other in their Nostradamus dialect, which Bai Qianxue, of course, neither understood nor cared about.

All he knew was that this gladiatorial contest would not bring him any joy.

Space Marines are the war machines of the human empire in this universe; they are called demigods—Bai Qianshuang once had high hopes for them.

But it won't work, at least not compared to someone with a strong magnetic field like him.

Soldiers mass-produced from a single module often lack even their own unique strengths, perhaps because they haven't encountered enough formidable opponents.

The situation became awkward once again.

Bai Qianshuang did not launch an attack, while the Space Marines observed the field and exchanged tactics, which made the audience, who had just been provoked, cheer again.

But it's okay—

This situation, where gladiators themselves are unwilling to fight, is very common in Comoros, and the arena operators have a well-established procedure for dealing with it.

A shadow blocked out the gloomy light of the sky. Krom looked up and saw a blurry figure looming over him.

He couldn't tell if it was a beast, a machine, or a grotesque hybrid of the two. A pale, muscular torso was encased in an armored shell piled high with tools used in war and torture.

It has no legs, but like a flying board, it hovers using an anti-gravity engine.

A thick, split tail coiled around its head, with a twitching alien weapon grafted onto its end like a thorn.

The Talos Torture Engine is the Dark Eldar's cold, torturous war machine, and also their drug production machine.

It can mix the muscle and nerve tissues of captured victims in an extremely unnatural way and then extract substances to use in the production of medicines or elixirs of immortality.

Different types of extracts have different effects, and each extract has its own characteristics.

The emotions of dead creatures can also be extracted from their bodies and amplified to create weapons.

Similarly, as long as this thing exists on the field, it will continuously release interfering electromagnetic waves and amplify the victim's pain by hundreds or thousands of times with all sorts of bizarre torture instruments on its body!

And the moment the painful engine landed, it immediately began to work, and the horrible skinning hook was lowered...

The various corpses in the field were contained, and their muscles and nerves were stripped away in a very short time to produce a large amount of stimulating drugs, while the pulse stinger at the tail was further filled.

The more emotions it absorbs from dead creatures, the more intense the painful electric currents it releases.

That strange electrostatic field will cause unbearable pain to everyone in this arena.

Just as the Pain Engine flew to the fallen Guo Zhen, Bai Qian Shuang suddenly made her move!

Without warning, and even faster than the speed he had previously demonstrated!

"Whale Killing Overlord Fist!!"

A roar of disgust and rage, and that terrifying punch shattered the monstrous fusion of flesh and torture device!

And Crom swore he saw a fish swimming in the void...?

The expensive Pain Engine was completely destroyed, leaving not a trace, which twisted the expression on Tallir's face as he was in charge of expenses—

He certainly doesn't lack money, but he would never want to see his assets lost so inexplicably!

But what happened next caused Taril's blood pressure to spike even higher.

"You fucking bastards, don't pollute my battlefield with this disgusting stuff!!"