"Hello, sir—or should I say, young man. I am your guide. Any questions, you can ask me. For the next twelve hours, I will protect you and answer anything. After that, this is where you'll live, as a member of Slaughter City," the veiled woman said.
"I've heard the rule here is: there are no rules. Is that true?" Tianlin asked.
She nodded. "Absolutely. In Slaughter City, you can do anything. Even a Titled Douluo will lose their soul skills here. Under the Slaughter King's rule, we don't fear them. Here, with enough strength, you can have anything you want. But I must warn you—with no rules, you may face deadly danger at any time. In a sense, it's a paradise of sin."
Tianlin shook his head. "But not being able to use soul skills—doesn't that count as a rule? What if I do use them—does that break the rules?"
She paused. "You can't use them. Only those permitted by the Slaughter King, or those who have cleared Hell Road and become Deathgods, can use soul skills. For example, our enforcers are Soul Douluos and one Titled Douluo given special permission by the Slaughter King."
"But don't worry. Their only job is to stop people from leaving the city. You can only enter, not leave. They won't interfere otherwise. If you can use soul skills by your ability, that's fine too. Like I said, there are no rules. But using soul skills is impossible—not even Titled Douluos can do it."
"Fine, take me to the Hell Slaughter Arena," Tianlin said directly. He wasn't here to play. The sooner he cleared the place, the better.
"Nothing else to ask? Seems you've done your homework," she remarked. Tianlin wasn't like the usual fallen souls or criminals fleeing the Spirit Hall.
No wonder the Slaughter King told her to pay special attention—someone with no hatred, so clear-minded, only comes here for one reason: to train and obtain the Deathgod Domain.
At that moment, Tianlin was in the outer city, where random killing wasn't allowed. The people here were those too afraid to enter the Hell Slaughter Arena. They paid two Bloody Marys a month to stay under the Slaughter King's protection.
That only qualified them to stay in the outer city. For food and shelter, they had to pay even more Bloody Marys, leaving many here thin and haggard—alive, but barely.
Soon, Tianlin followed the veiled maiden into the inner city—the real Slaughter City. Instantly, he felt the difference.
If the outer city was a dead, cold world, the inner city was luxurious and insane. Lights were everywhere, crowds much larger, and the atmosphere utterly chaotic—laughter, cries, and chilling sounds filling the air.
In one corner, a burly man was groping a woman. Another man, unable to bear it, beheaded the brute and took the woman for himself.
Truly, a place with no rules—slaughter at any moment.
But no one dared touch Tianlin, because the veiled maiden was the Slaughter King's emissary. As long as she was with him, he was under the twelve-hour newbie protection.
"This isn't a paradise of sin, it's a city of beasts," Tianlin thought.
"Isn't it interesting here? With strength, you can have status, power, women—anything you want," she tempted.
"Not interested. Take me to the Hell Slaughter Arena."
"Heh, newborn calves aren't afraid of tigers. My protection ends there—if you want to die, suit yourself." She led him to a massive black building in the city center—the core of Slaughter City.
It was the size of a major Battle Arena but oppressive in feel.
"Take your ID and sign up. Wait for the match—no fighting while waiting. Each group has ten people. However you kill, only one can walk out alive. There's no surrender," she explained.
Tianlin nodded. That was all he needed to know. All that was left was to win a hundred matches and challenge Hell Road.
Entry required a Bloody Mary. Many queued with cups of fresh blood.
A burly man just walked up, killed someone at random, took his Bloody Mary, and joined the line. You didn't have to use your blood—a stolen cup was fine.
Tianlin smiled and stepped forward. The veiled maiden warned, "If you provoke anyone, your newbie protection is void."
"Doesn't matter. I don't need it," Tianlin replied, preparing his sword intent.
In Slaughter City, words were pointless—see it, kill for it, and take it. If he didn't adapt, he'd never survive.
The brute, noticing Tianlin's challenge, summoned his Blood Tiger martial soul and lunged.
Tianlin stabbed straight for the mouth. They were half a meter apart, but the brute's head was already pierced.
Sword intent made real—these brutes, all brawn, and no skill, had no chance.