Rakna sat on a bench with his eyes closed, his legs and arms crossed. While he had unconsciously taken that pose, he wasn’t ignorant of the effects it had on the people around him.

He secretly used Astral Projection and observed the waiting room he was in. He looked around in his soul form and scoffed at the oglers. He was currently inside the Arena, waiting for the time they could enter the fighting area.

As it turns out, Arena Zero was the large spherical structure he had seen hanging in the center of Plateau Zero like a core, and the columns supporting it were in fact elevators.

It had been surprisingly easy to be admitted. He showed the badge given by Undertaker and the people manning the elevators, as well as registering fighters, allowed him entry without question and made a place for him in the next ‘games’ by kicking out someone else in the queue.

It really was a VIP ticket to skip lines…

Though, there was nonetheless a day to wait for the games to start, and until then had helped his companions in their respective searches. He had seen Bora Quaso; and his verdict? That man was a joke. Fat, smug, arrogant; he was every little thing that makes a human detestable.

Certainly, Crystal Sight had revealed to him that the man was around level 400 in terms of power if he was outside Zero. But in here? His attributes were not higher than his even if he didn’t shift into a werewolf.

The bodyguards accompanying him, however, were another story. Most of them seemed to be on the same level of capability as a level 500 Host. They also seemed to be equipped with weapons that ran on stored mana they brought from outside in some sort of special container.

‘And some of these guys have them as well,’ Rakna thought as he floated around his competitors and checked their equipment. ‘I guess they didn’t come in here unprepared…’

At the end of the day, the plan was the same as discussed before. Nyx would continue tailing and Hans would investigate on his own. As for him, all he had to do was fight and catch Bora’s attention so he could assassinate him.

Preferably, meet him alone outside of the Arena would be the best scenario.

‘As for the Arena itself… how should I do it?’ Rakna mused.

From what he had gathered, the Arena went through a cycle every week. On the first day, everyone would participate in a last-stand-type contest. Someone would volunteer to get up on the ring and then anyone would be able to step up and challenge them.

Whoever wins, by killing the other, has the right to leave or wait for the next fighter. And so on.

The more challengers you kill, the more points you’re given. Those allow your participation in the next round as well as affects the rewards you get after retiring from the games. Regardless of if you won it all or not, those points can be used as currency in Zero for many services.

Most importantly, points allowed one to buy the Transfer Crystals necessary to return to Zero as well as items to conceal traces of them ever being there. You could say this was a necessity since they would otherwise be found out by Eva.

Of course, there are other ways to gain points, such as trading and offering services for a price, but one could say that the Arena was a dying man’s saving grace for most wanderers seeking Kratos.

‘It’s all far more intricate than I expected,’ Rakna huffed.

“{Personally, I think this is a weeding and herding stratagem,}” Fray commented solemnly. “{The owners are purposefully making them kill each other for benefits so that their number can remain optimally low. And obviously, they keep them on leashes, and all of that is nicely packaged inside a death game for their entertainment. Smart and outright devious. Not to mention that it normally requires a million Talys as a participation fee but you got it for free. Imagine the profit, not limited to mere monetary gain, they make from all of that combined.}”

Rakna stayed silent as he contemplated the situation and narrowed his eyes at the soulless body that he had left behind. Some guys were approaching it and reaching with their hands.

‘Tch, idiots. Sonata,’ he called, without even returning to his body, and the sword attached to his waist vibrated quietly. ‘Retaliation,’ he ordered and a breeze coursed through the room. He saw a few people widen their eyes before the men who were next to his body were shoved back onto the ground a few meters away.

He then repatriated his soul back into his body and opened one eye, Scherzo lighting up and glaring at the downed men. They first looked baffled, but then griped in anger. But before they had the chance to do anything, an announcement rang.

“| First rounds will begin in one minute. Please prepare, |” a monotonous female voice resounded and Rakna stood up, ignoring the men’s glares. Truly, he was starting to understand some of the ramblings Kaelith had about her beauty being a blessing and a curse.

‘Ceres, you’re sure that Sonata can’t be analyzed, right?’ He asked internally as the timer ticked.

[Yes, you should know yourself already, that no status page can be displayed in this Plateau. The only reason you can appraise others regardless is your Crystal Sight. You can discern truths about a target and instinctively understand them. Hans De Vale literally reads them. But for others? At best, they will be able to tell it is a soul weapon, but won’t be able to see its perks or its description.]

Rakna snorted to himself. ‘Then, I can only hope there isn’t anyone as rare as Hans or me around.’

[That would be the overall circumstances, indeed,] she responded with a tinge of amusement.

“| Ten seconds left, |” the announcer stated and a large metal gate in the wall creaked as it started rising. The noises of a crowd were heard as the countdown began. Rakna rolled his shoulders and ordered Eye of Symphony to increase the material tension of Allegro, raising its defense. He then activated his mask’s wide field of view.

He silently groaned at the change of perspective but quickly ‘rewired’ his senses to adapt. When the announcer ended the countdown, the gate was fully open, and beyond it laid a massive circular area larger than several football fields combined.

It was surrounded by metal grids that separated them from the thousands of people that could be seen spectating on the other side. In the Arena itself, hanging from the ceiling with chains, was a platform that could only be their imminent ‘performance stage’.

“{Spectators… even more profit and conditioning, huh?}” Fray sighed and Rakna silently scanned everything in sight. One particular spot in the upper parts of the walls caught his attention. It was an opaque glass likely hiding some sort of VIP lounge.

He narrowed his eyes and tried to look through it, only to hold back when he felt resistance from something. ‘Someone’s skill is obfuscating that place… Eye of Symphony can’t seem to be able to hack anything inside of it either,’ he noted and then focused back on the announcer declaring the rules of the rounds… which were far from substantial.

It was just as he had learned. Everything was allowed and you could not surrender. This obviously put anyone who went first at a disadvantage as long as the subsequent challenger could accurately estimate their strength.

“Hey, what’re you thinking about?” A chirpy voice with a sly undertone abruptly sounded next to the therian and he raised an eyebrow at the stranger.

It was a beautiful woman with short auburn hair sporting a skin-tight armor suit. She was smiling at him and leaning forward with her hands behind her back.

“…what do you want?” Rakna immediately asked.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. Girls need to stick together,” she replied and he fell silent.

‘…right…’ He exclaimed internally. ‘Somehow… I’m sorry,’ he silently apologized to her.

“What’s your name?” She asked and he sighed.

“Ranka… and you are?”

“You can call me Rita,” she replied cheerfully. “So? What brings you here to Zero? To me, you don’t seem like the kind of girl who’s desperate enough to hang out around here.”

“…what do you want?” Rakna repeated himself without changing his tone and she narrowed her eyes, her smile becoming a bit sharper.

“You’re not the cute type, I see. Well, I guess it’s for the better in these places,” Rita said and crossed her arms with a more serious countenance. “I’ll be straightforward then. You’re dangerous. I don’t think anyone here worth their salt can’t notice that after that little scuffle, as short as it was. I just want one thing; don’t go first.”

Rakna raised an eyebrow under his mask. “Why?” He questioned whilst observing how everyone around seemed to be waiting for the first fighter to enter the ring.

The rules only allowed five minutes before someone would be chosen randomly; something that happened nearly every time since it was better to leave it to luck than to willingly put yourself at risk. Naturally, he had no intention to do so either.

If he potentially decided to go first and then kill everyone that came after, it would certainly get the attention of Bora, but it would be too hasty for his liking and might get him in trouble due to excessive awareness. It was better to lay low and somewhat stand out in small bursts.

Rita straightened herself. “Because I can’t have you go before me,” she stated.

Rakna blinked. “You’re saying you want to go there first?”

“I have a plan,” Rita replied smilingly. “One that I can only execute with initiative.”

“Why haven’t you already gone then? I had no intention to go first anyway.”

“I see, that’s a relief. As for why I’m still here, it’s because I still need a bit of time to prepare,” she replied calmly. “Somehow, I felt that amongst everyone here, you were the one who was the most likely to go first without waiting for the random pick.”

“…is that so? I suppose I did consider the idea for a moment.”

Rita smiled. “Well, I hope you’re the only one to even get that idea,” she said and looked up at the arena with a gloomy look. “I can’t afford to take the risk. I can’t die here...” She paused and lowered her eyes. “Did you know? You can do whatever you want to your opponent up there as long as you kill them in the end.”

Understanding flashed through Rakna’s mind and he frowned.

“Ah, looks like you realized,” she chuckled, but it did not reach her eyes. “Girls like us are rarer to see in Arena. They get targeted, humiliated, tormented, and before getting killed, they are violated in front of a crowd that cheers for it,” she spat with a somber voice.

She sighed to calm herself and started walking away. “Don’t end up like that, Ranka,” she uttered darkly and the disguised therian silently watched her go.

He faintly shook his head as he finally understood the oddly high amounts of lust he could smell from the men nearby, as well as the disproportionate sense of excitement coming from the crowd as they looked at him specifically.

‘Humans… simply never change,’ he thought as he went to lean against a wall, waiting for how that girl would perform. ‘So sinful.’