The entire venue erupted into chaos. Everyone cheered and screamed, resembling fervent followers participating in a wild blood sacrifice ritual.
Veronica grew increasingly impatient, clenching her fists unconsciously.
"I'll go find Lango," Amir said as he stood up.
Following the directions, he made his way to the restroom and pushed the door open, only to find it empty.
Amir had a bad feeling.
"Amir!" Veronica's voice came from outside the door. Amir rushed out.
As soon as he stepped outside, he heard the host's loud shout.
"The battle has begun!"
Veronica grabbed Amir and shouted, "Lango is in the arena!"
"What?!" Amir was equally shocked. Although Lango had been quiet earlier, he didn't usually speak much anyway.
Who knew what was going through his mind? After they finally rescued him, he had actually run back on his own.
Amir rushed to the corner of the arena where Lango was. He pushed his way to the front and peered down at the tiny green figure below. Lango's body, still not fully grown, seemed much smaller compared to the muscular warriors of other races.
The battle had already begun. Lango entered through the audience entrance, accompanied by most of the bodyguards hired by the wealthy upper class. Though they didn't fight themselves, it would be a matter of pride if their hired bodyguards performed well, at least proving their good taste.
Lango didn't linger, rushing straight into the arena. The ground was littered with cold alloy weapons. Compared to blaster guns and lightsabers, these weapons truly made blood boil.
He picked up a short sword, constantly observing his surroundings as if searching for something.
Amir didn't object to Lango's actions but was puzzled by them, unsure of his purpose.
This young Farlinian might not be mature, but he isn't stupid. He wouldn't make such a decision unless he had no other choice.
"Come here," Amir called to a servant. There were many servants in the audience. Once someone bid to purchase a gladiator, a servant would approach to record the transaction. When the gladiator fell, the servant would dispatch a hovering rescue vehicle to treat the "merchandise" that had been purchased.
After all, no one wanted to buy a corpse.
"The Farlin man in the third arena, the one in green. He's an audience member," Amir said, pointing at Lango.
"Please wait a moment." The attendant opened the machine in his hand, checked the records, and pulled up the information. "Yes, he signed up for gladiatorial combat and paid for the minimum rescue package."
"How many levels of packages are there?" Amir asked anxiously, looking down at Lango's frantic movements.
"The minimum level only rescues the person and provides basic bandaging. The medium level prioritizes saving the person's life. The maximum level does everything possible to fully heal the guest, even if limbs are lost. It also arranges the best prosthetic services."
"What are the prices?"
"The minimum is two hundred credit points, the medium is two thousand, and the maximum is twenty thousand."
Amir sucked in a sharp breath. He didn't have enough credit points for the maximum package, but the medium package was still within his means, though painful.
"I'll give you one thousand eight hundred. Upgrade it to the medium package."
"All right, sir. Enjoy the show."
Amir pulled out the largest denomination of credit points he had, his eyes red as he stared at Lango. If he didn't have a reasonable explanation, this lizard man was finished.
Lango had been dodging inside the arena, only attacking when absolutely necessary.
Most of the other spectators who entered the arena began attacking wildly. They picked up knives and cut deep wounds on the slaves, who had been imprisoned for days. The spectators enjoyed the thrill of killing.
Most of the slaves weren't people who enjoyed killing, but under the stimulation of intense pain and blood, their violent nature was unleashed.
One spectator skillfully dodged an attack from a hairy, bear-like creature and slashed a gash on its back with a backhand strike.
The hairy bear let out a painful scream, turned around, and charged at the man like a mad beast. The man wanted to toy with the creature some more, but suddenly, another loud noise echoed from the surroundings.
A much larger black bear charged forward at incredible speed. Its paw, as large as a human head, struck the man in the waist unexpectedly.
The man was sent flying like a kite with a broken string, landing more than ten meters away.
A flat rescue boat that had been patrolling the area rushed over, closely following the spectator. Several mechanical straps extended from its edges and secured the spectator to the board. The boat then rotated 180 degrees and lifted the man above it. It hurriedly flew out of the arena.
Whether the spectator survived remains to be seen.
Lango watched the scene unfold. The large black bear was already surrounded by and being attacked by many people.
The slaves knew that the longer they stood, the more likely someone would bid for them. Escaping this place was their only chance at true freedom.
They had to eliminate the stronger individuals first.
"I'll pay to buy this beast!" A voice rang out from the audience.
Bidding began immediately, and the attendants bustled about.
"I'll offer ten thousand credit points!"
"Twelve thousand!"
"Twelve thousand, five hundred!"
The black bear on the ground continued to roar, its massive roar shaking the eardrums of the gladiators around it. It was already covered in blood.
The smaller bear had fallen to the ground, and a rescue ship descended the moment it hit the ground, carrying it away.
Perhaps it was purchased by someone, or maybe it was simply too valuable for the arena to waste.
A Klatooinian man set his sights on Lango. This brown-and-yellow desert race had a hard shell and a flat snout, resembling a hunting dog.
They had been enslaved by the Hutt for generations.
Lango's small frame gave him hope of escaping this place.
The man clung tightly to Lango, staying within ten meters of him at all times.
Lango was still searching, but he hadn't found the figure he was looking for.
The Klatooinian saw Lango's momentary distraction and lunged at him, aiming the long spear in his hand at Lango's back.
If he was hit, he would certainly be impaled.
Veronica gripped the railing tighter. Amir patted her left arm, urging her to relax and not let her impulses ruin everything.
Lango wasn't so easily caught off guard. He had kept an eye on his surroundings the entire time.
As the spear lunged toward him, he suddenly spun to the left, allowing the spear to graze his clothes. At the same time, his left hand reached out and clamped down on the middle of the spear. Using his body's momentum, he swung his right arm, which held a short sword in a reverse grip, and severed the Klatooinian warrior's arm, covered in hard armor.
"Ugh!" With a pained roar, Lango kicked the warrior away and seized the spear.