The Arena of the Empty Tower (Gladiators) Chapter 68: The Man with Glasses Doesn't Understand Emotions

"Why? Is it because she's better endowed?" To Wu Hui's surprise, Wu Tong wasn't angry at all. Instead, she seemed genuinely interested, pinning her brother onto the sofa, sitting astride him as she asked her question.

Wu Hui hesitated. "…because we've known each other longer, and her combat abilities complement mine."

"What a lousy reason." Wu Tong scoffed, getting off him but leaving her legs draped across his lap. "But I like the younger girl too. She really does have a great figure. And she clearly likes you more."

"Then…" Wu Hui still couldn't quite grasp it. "Why aren't you jealous?"

"Shouldn't I be happy to see my little brother finally learning how to win a girl over?" Wu Tong flashed him a smile and opened another bottle of beer.

Wu Hui pondered for a long time, finally attributing his strange big sister's reaction to the alcohol. Then he saw her take out a game piece and a military token for him.

These were the gifts Wu Tong had mentioned earlier.

Dark Songstress

Faction: Darkness. Cult of the Apocalypse

Type: Caster / Human / Intelligent Creature

Life: 5

Mobility: 2

Attack: 10

Attack Range: 5

Cost: 20 gold coins, plus a sacrifice with total life above 20

Special Ability: Chant (attacks affect all within range, friend or foe)

Story: A singer from the shadows, her voice proclaims doom and destruction. When you hear her song, death is near. Even the cultists of the Apocalypse are reluctant to approach her.

The soul or mental energy required to use this piece was frankly overwhelming for Wu Hui—enough to leave him completely drained.

And then there was the military token.

Military Token (Inactive)

Logic Speed +1, Knowledge +1 (attribute boosts capped at 12 while inactive)

Military Command Skill +1

Activation Requirement: Achieve two King-ranked ratings in card or chess-based games.

"Thanks," Wu Hui said to his sister. These items far surpassed the rewards he'd earned after exhausting himself in level-three difficulty. Such are the benefits of having a high-level player backing you.

Wu Tong sat beside him, beer can in hand. "Even with my help, I have to admit—you're still not guaranteed to survive. So if you meet someone you like, don't hesitate. Act before you regret it."

Wu Hui seemed to understand. "Alright."

He went online to search how one should act in this sort of situation, boosting his emotional intelligence stat a little while he was at it. Then he placed his hand on Wu Tong's long legs resting on him.

Wu Tong was pleased; her foolish brother, whom she'd raised since childhood, was finally starting to show some sense.

The next game was "Domination," level three difficulty.

This wasn't a type you could clear relying on combat prowess or intelligence alone. As for what was needed, even Wu Tong found it hard to say—perhaps the knack for reading people's hearts.

In this respect, Wu Hui was sorely lacking.

"In 'Domination,' if everyone could unite rationally, things would be easy and casualties minimal. But people always end up fighting due to stupidity, short-sightedness, conflicting interests, or other reasons. The honest ones who try to unite everyone are usually eliminated first."

Wu Tong shifted Wu Hui's hand as she spoke. "It's like a prisoner's dilemma."

The prisoner's dilemma: suppose there are two prisoners, A and B. If neither confesses, both go free. If one confesses, the confessor walks, the other gets ten years. If both confess, they each get five years.

Unable to know what the other will choose, most often both end up with five years.

It all comes down to trust between the prisoners. If they see themselves as a team, they won't confess. If they're self-serving, they will.

In the game, most people are strangers. Talking about trust is a joke.

"Yeah," Wu Hui mused. He always calculated the optimal solution—if everyone could be as rational as he was, "Domination" wouldn't be so daunting. But if irrationality was the baseline, Wu Hui found himself out of his depth.

His understanding of people was still shallow. For instance, right now, he couldn't figure out what his sister really meant.

Or maybe no one could? Wu Tong's attitude toward him was uniquely odd—almost as if she encouraged him to pursue other women.

Did Wu Tong harbor some strange preference?

Or perhaps she liked women too?

After mulling it over, Wu Hui could only come up with these two theories. It was past two in the morning; time for bed. So, after some hesitation, he asked Wu Tong, "Want to sleep together tonight?"

They'd shared a bed countless times since childhood. But tonight, Wu Hui's question clearly carried other implications.

Wu Tong smiled. "Sure."

Meanwhile, in Li Xiaojing's room.

Her sister, Li Xiaoyue, was already asleep, kicking at her blanket even in her dreams. Li Xiaojing tossed and turned, unable to sleep, her mind replaying moments from her recent encounter with Wu Hui.

She sighed, feeling that if this were truly a competition, she was no match for the opposition. And to be honest, she'd only known Wu Hui for about a month. The affection she felt—how much stemmed from her and her sister's mutual strategy games, how much from the shared danger and gratitude of saving each other—she couldn't say.

But when it comes to love and affection, the reasons often don't matter. If you fall for someone, you fall for them. The rational analysis, the causes, and whether it's appropriate—that's Wu Hui's way, not hers.

"Ugh, this is so annoying." Li Xiaojing burrowed under the covers, hugging her sister and wrapping her legs around her.

Li Xiaoyue stirred and mumbled sleepily, a little suspicious. When she saw it was her sister, she closed her eyes again, muttering, "I'm supposed to be the older one…" and soon drifted off once more in her sister's embrace.

At last, the night passed.

In the midst of a thunderstorm, a burly bald man adorned with all manner of strange spiked accessories and wearing a black mask walked onto the street where the little girl had died.

"The Doll is dead. Looks like we'll need a new guitarist."

Not far away, a shadow coalesced into a human form. "Oh? Guitarists as talented as her are rare. What a pity."

"From now on, keep a low profile—no more catching the eye of the Tribunal. Especially you—if even a level ten can be killed by them, an eight like you stands no chance. You're the weakest in our band." A cloud of smoke gathered into the shape of a demon, chastising the shadow mercilessly.

The shadow looked disgruntled but said nothing.

"Spikes, you should watch yourself in Evergreen City too. I hear Iron Hand is coming," the demon warned the burly man.

"I'm not just worried about Iron Hand," the man replied, scratching his head. "With my abilities, any level ten hunter could take me out."

"…Anyway, I'll find a new guitarist as soon as possible. The performance schedule won't be delayed," the demon said, changing the subject.

The burly man and the shadow both bowed their heads. "Yes, lead singer."

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