"Boss! Boss!" The urgent footsteps accompanied by frantic shouts shattered the morning tranquility as a man stumbled into Elmo's office.
"What is it? Why are you in such a hurry?" Elmo frowned, his tone laced with irritation.
"Boss, urgent news! Sablehold of Enslavement has transferred all goods to us, but they are secretly preparing a new batch, which was just sent out to those buyers," the man gasped, struggling to catch his breath.
"Is that all? Sablehold of Enslavement isn't some small-time operation, this is expected. You barged into my office at this hour for that?" Elmo's expression darkened.
"No, it's more than that, boss. There's something even more important," the reporter stammered, sensing Elmo's mood shift, his lips turning pale.
"What is it? Speak quickly. If it's not important, you won't have to worry, someone else will handle it for you." Elmo snorted, his gaze sharp.
"Kayden… Kayden has just set off for the Middle East," the man finally managed to say.
"Oh?" Elmo was taken aback for a moment, then his brows knitted tightly. "I've always known of Kayden's ambitions, but I didn't expect this coward to have such guts."
"Boss, should we…" Joseph asked quietly, making a slashing gesture with his hand.
"No, not yet. We can't act recklessly. Kayden isn't someone to take lightly, we must avoid alarming him. Besides, we have plenty to deal with right now. Though he's ambitious, at the end of the day, he's still a coward and won't achieve much. Let him go, I see this as a response to our aggressive acquisition. Keep a close eye on Fiso for me." Elmo glanced at the still-trembling reporter. "Your information has some value this time, so I'll let it slide. But next time, stick to the important stuff, otherwise, losing your head won't be worth it."
"Yes, yes, I understand, boss." Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, the man bowed and retreated, leaning against the wall outside to catch his breath.
"Alright, Joseph, notify your men, we're going to check on those slaves. There might be a few surprises among them." Elmo stretched lazily, tossing his pen aside and lighting a cigar from his drawer. "I prefer the thrill of outsmarting others and strategizing over dealing with tedious paperwork."
"That suits your style perfectly," Joseph replied monotonously, lacking any hint of emotion.
"Have you learned to tease me, Joseph?" Elmo chuckled, his lips twitching.
"I'm just stating the truth," Joseph maintained his flat tone.
"Fine, fine. Just remember, sometimes the truth isn't the best choice," Elmo waved his hand dismissively, a slight frown forming.
Leaving the office, they crossed through Yarrow's training grounds and arrived at a separate courtyard. This so-called annex was simply an open space temporarily housing over seven hundred slaves. Most were criminals or captives, their eyes revealing a fierce and defiant spirit.
"Ha, quite a crowd," Elmo remarked as he entered, observing the slaves jostling for a place in the shade, a smirk creeping onto his face.
Once inside, all eyes turned toward him. The majority were slaves already exhibiting some combat skills—criminals, warriors sent into exile, and captured thieves, all with menacing gazes.
"Why do they look at you like that? Do they think you're a woman?" Elmo asked Joseph with a teasing tone.
"Not likely, otherwise, they'd never see a woman again," Joseph replied coldly and decisively.
"You really are heartless," Elmo chuckled lightly.
"Are you the boss here?" A middle-aged man with short black hair and a rugged beard shifted in his heavy shackles, loudly challenging Elmo.
"Oh? Sharp-eyed, aren't you?" Elmo feigned surprise.
"I heard your arena has rules different from others," the man raised his chin, his eyes filled with disdain.
"Is that so? What rules are so important to you? Do share," Elmo responded casually, unfazed by the man's attitude.
"I heard your gladiators are free to come and go," the man's confidence swelled, as if he had already secured a victory.
"Yes, we do have that rule. All three hundred of our gladiators at LB Arena are here by choice. So what?" Elmo casually rummaged through his pockets while answering.
"Then we don't want to stay here anymore, we want to leave!" the man declared loudly, and a few of his supposed followers echoed him. Soon, the entire courtyard of slaves began to chant in unison.
"Oh? Quite the spirited bunch. Want to leave? Sure," Elmo muttered, pulling out a cigar and letting it dangle from his lips. As he fumbled, Joseph produced a lighter from his coat, igniting it and handing it to him. Elmo took a deep drag from the cigar, murmuring, "What a hassle. I forgot my lighter. Good thing I have you, Joseph, you're reliable."
"Hey, are you listening to me? We want to leave! Will you let us or not?" The man, irritated that Elmo seemed oblivious, shouted louder, emboldened by the support of the other slaves.
"Oh? Just leaving, huh? Sure," Elmo suddenly turned to face the man, locking eyes with him as if he had just registered what was being said, his tone laced with amusement.
"What's wrong? Why do I feel strange? Who is that man? What's with his gaze? No, I can't think about that now." The man, momentarily caught off guard, felt an inexplicable fear wash over him. Wiping sweat from his brow, he stammered, "Um… then, fine, we're leaving."
Dragging the heavy shackles, he slowly approached the door. "What about these things on my hands and feet?"
"I'll have someone remove them shortly," Elmo smiled slightly.
"Good. These things are such a nuisance. I'm not unreasonable, being a thief and a gladiator aren't so different. If your treatment is good, I wouldn't mind being your gladiator, but I need to get out of this slave camp first." The man, feeling Elmo's seemingly softening stance, grew bolder, thinking he had secured his freedom. A few slaves quietly followed him, and others began to stir with anticipation.
"Do you think it'll work?" a younger slave asked the slightly older one beside him.
"Maybe. There are so many of us, if things get messy, they probably can't handle it," the older one replied, standing up alongside a companion.
"Bunch of fools." At the farthest corner from the door, a rugged man with a disheveled beard cursed silently and closed his eyes as if to sleep.
"Boss, didn't expect you to be so reasonable. Heh, come on, let's remove the shackles," the leading man reached the doorway, extending his hands toward the guards with a smug grin.
"Sure, let's help this gentleman get rid of his cuffs and shackles," Elmo said with a cold laugh, his gaze hardening.
"Puff" Blood sprayed as a brief scream echoed, and a bloodied figure collapsed to the ground, limbs severed and unconscious.
"Damn it! How dare you trick us! Brothers, kill him!" In a moment of stunned silence, several furious slaves swung their shackled chains, rushing toward Elmo.
"Unaware of your own mortality, scum! Get lost!" Joseph growled, stepping in front of Elmo, and with a single sweep, multiple bloody corpses flew through the air, the sound of snapping shackles filling the courtyard.
"It seems everyone has misunderstood something," Elmo surveyed the crowd, watching as fear and silence settled over them after Joseph's display of strength. "Indeed, we have that rule at our arena, all our gladiators are volunteers who can leave whenever they wish. But it seems that none of you are gladiators, you're just slaves—slaves that I just paid for. You want freedom? Do you think I'm an idiot or that LB Arena is a charity? Slaves need to understand their place! Freedom? Dream on! Slaves of LB Arena, even if they die, they will die in LB Arena."
The slaves exchanged fearful glances, a mix of terror and despair on their faces. Elmo, seeing their frightened expressions, softened his tone slightly, "But remember, many gladiators come from slavery. If you all perform well, you too can become gladiators of LB Arena, enjoying freedom and riches." Noticing the stir among the slaves, he continued, "So, here's your chance to prove yourselves. Kill those who dared to challenge me just now."
Instantly, the courtyard fell into a dead silence, and then a brutal massacre began.
The thirty or so who had stood up were easily overwhelmed by the attacks of over seven hundred, though some opportunists among them managed to exploit the chaos for petty revenge. But to Elmo, such losses were insignificant.
"Well, the unexpected situation has been dealt with. Let's proceed as planned. First, we'll register you, I hope everyone will cooperate nicely," Elmo's smile returned. Ten men arranged tables and chairs on his left, as the slaves lined up, ready to fill out their personal information.
"Oh, look at this, such a pleasant atmosphere is fitting," Elmo turned to smile at Joseph, who had stepped back.
"I'd like to see people get excited." Joseph looked at the blood smeared on his arm and flicked it off.
"What a troublemaker." Elmo shrugged and spat half of the cigar in his mouth onto the ground.