"Lord Sherlock! I'm very happy to see you at our event!"
The Gladiator Arena's Boss, Poison Skin, who had a large belly, received Sherlock warmly inside his office.
"The tournament is about to begin. Your idea of the Sole Survivor Tournament is marvelous. The spectators are looking forward to it. More than 50% of the seats were sold. I haven't seen that many spectators for a long time."
"Old ways of business management are no longer useful in this new age." Sherlock sat in the chair and smiled.
"You're right!" Poison Skin took out a Uranium stick. He lit it up before putting it in his mouth. The Uranium stick sizzled as he said, "Lord Sherlock, we'll see how your Gladiators perform."
"Don't worry, they're fully prepared," Sherlock nodded and said confidently.
…
In the dim resting room, the Mana-powered ceiling fan was spinning above a group of Goblins, Gnomes, and Houndhead Men.
