The Arena of the Empty Tower (Gladiator) Chapter Sixty-Two: Let the Battle Begin, Part Four

Zhao Xingluan heard the distant sound of explosions.

Reaching the tenth floor was no easy feat for him. He had suffered defeats along the way. Now, on his second arrival at this level, he did not yet know who his opponent was or how strong they might be. Therefore, Zhao Xingluan proceeded with caution, moving closer after hearing the blasts, but only observing from afar.

At this moment, he faced two choices: either charge in quickly, engaging before the enemy could finish setting their traps, or circumvent this area, seeking a way around the dangers.

Wu Hui stood inside a factory he had rigged with numerous explosives, holding chess pieces and throwing knives in his hands.

He was a patient man, capable of waiting quietly for his foe to reveal a weakness. Many times, he had won by doing just that.

For instance, at the chess and card club, Du Ziming and Wu Hui were evenly matched. Du Ziming often triumphed by breaking conventions and evading Wu Hui’s calculations, while Wu Hui prevailed through greater patience and more precise computations.

Previously, when playing chess against Ren Yin, both sides were equally patient. They were willing to spend long periods strategizing, enduring hardship or holding back in the early stages, only to overturn the game at a crucial moment.

As long as Wu Hui deemed, through careful thought, that waiting would be to his advantage, he would wait as long as necessary.

Ultimately, Zhao Xingluan did not choose to storm the factory directly. Instead, he ventured elsewhere to continue his exploration. This was the sensible choice, and besides, he had arrived too late; Wu Hui’s arrangements inside the factory were nearly complete.

Afterward, Wu Hui made no unnecessary moves, merely waiting and patrolling his domain. He had already signaled his presence with explosions; once the enemy saw this, they would inevitably draw near.

Yet unless faced with someone reckless or decisive, no one would dare charge in at such a time; thus, the waiting continued.

In the ten-slot space in his pocket jacket, Wu Hui had a supply of water and food, enough to last him several days. Should his opponent attempt a war of attrition, he was confident he would outlast them.

The risk lay in the possibility that his adversary might find something useful in the city—perhaps acquire a buff or similar advantage—then come to confront him. This approach, however, was inherently passive.

Without overwhelming strength, this was the only course.

There is a saying: cunning is powerless before absolute strength. Yet in reality, those who act without thought seldom improve their abilities faster than those who are strategic.

Thus, history’s truly clever figures were often masters of internal affairs, like Xiao He or Zhuge Liang, rather than mere schemers.

Seemingly intricate conspiracies always suffer from the flaw of low tolerance for error. The truly wise always seek to bolster their fundamental strength. The sturdier one's foundation, the more options one has for strategy.

Wu Hui had laid out all manner of bombs within the factory, and even unearthed several steam-era weapons. There was a silver-inlaid flintlock, exuding the aesthetic of the first industrial revolution—capable of firing without loading bullets—rated as a rare item by the system.

Aside from these, nothing could be carried away; everything else served as temporary defenses within the factory.

Wu Hui remembered every detail of the factory clearly.

It was like the web of a spider—he knew where the traps lay and where it was safe to tread, while the prey was blind.

About an hour later, Zhao Xingluan finally stepped into the factory.

He was accompanied by several automatic robots, likely the fruits of his map exploration. Though carrying only a small supply of water, once he realized the man inside was playing for endurance, Zhao Xingluan knew he could not outlast him.

Thus, battle was inevitable—the longer he waited, the worse his condition would become.

Zhao Xingluan stretched a bandage taut in his hand, like a longsword. He crushed two badges, forming a shield and an aura around him.

At the same time, he drew out a book.

The Book of Lightning, capable of casting electric spells. Similar to the Book of Life, the Book of Falling Stones, and the Book of Flames, it was a practical item for early stages.

These all contained beginner spell magic; even at level five or six, they remained useful. Of course, by then, players might switch to higher-tier spellbooks, each containing several spells, or perhaps all the spells from a civilization or myth.

When the Doll produced a black spellbook, the Silver Mask grew visibly alert.

They had spent considerable effort in the eastern district to pinpoint the target’s location. At the time, the Doll had just killed a solitary recluse and taken over his home, apparently intending to live there for several months. The Silver Mask soon locked onto her.

But the Doll, having fought her way up to level ten, was highly vigilant, quickly noticing the presence of tribunal staff in the vicinity.

To Silver Mask’s anger and confusion, the Doll’s response upon discovering the patrol was simply to kill them outright. Such audacity! Had their last pursuit not taught her any fear?

Having killed repeatedly and absorbed souls, the Doll’s body was now indistinguishable from that of an ordinary person. Her black gothic dress and exquisite features made her strikingly alluring. An exaggerated smile curled her lips, and two gemstone-like eyes gazed at Silver Mask.

“Sir, it’s rather rude to stare at a lady’s face for so long~”

Silver Mask said nothing, instead activating his portable battle space, pulling her, himself, the Birdcatcher Spider, and the Yellowjacket inside.

An ancient battlefield spread before them.

Five hundred Wei martial soldiers stood in formation.

The ground was littered with bones and wreckage; scattered, broken banners and tattered camps could be seen all around.

“This battlefield will last thirty minutes at most,” Silver Mask said to his companions. “But it should suffice to deal with this weakened level ten player, whom even I could defeat alone.”

Birdcatcher Spider smiled. He knew Silver Mask was saying this to prevent him from fleeing or demanding higher compensation at the last moment.

But he had never intended to do either.

For, as Silver Mask said, the Doll’s current state was dire. This was well known among high-level players. They all marveled at her survival from the tribunal’s pursuit, yet understood the price she had paid to escape.

Miss Doll, facing the three encircling her, maintained a bright smile. “Shall I tell you all a story?”

Silver Mask raised his hand, and another five hundred Wei martial soldiers appeared, doubling the force to a thousand—each with a fighting power equivalent to a level six player. Then, he initiated the Sharp Soldier Break, focusing the power of a thousand warriors into the tip of his spear.

“Long, long ago, there was a beautiful kingdom…” The Doll flipped through her book and truly began to tell a story.

Birdcatcher Spider narrowed his eyes, black web-like threads materializing beside him.

At the intersecting nodes of these lines, all manner of weapons were arrayed—from daggers and longswords for close combat, to pistols, sniper rifles, and bombs for ranged warfare—everything one could imagine.