The morning performance had nothing to do with Zhang Heng and the others. After showing up, the group of gladiators returned to the lounge, waiting for their turn to fight.
Blood and death were stirring the nerves of the spectators in the stands all the time. The spectators' shouts and cheers made the wooden planks above their heads creak, where dust escaped the gaps and fell on everyone's hair and shoulders, not unlike ashes from a raging fire. The lounge, however, was extremely quiet, as if it were another world.
However, if one thought that the beast was asleep, the person would be making a grave mistake.
There they lay in the dark, grinding their teeth and sharpening their claws, waiting for their turn to kill. But until the last moment, no one knew who the prey or hunter was.
