Cruel Reality [1]

The Colosseum was divided into five areas.

The top floor was for royalty, the upper floor was for nobles, the middle floor was for the rich, the lower floor was for commoners, and the basement was for slaves and commoners.

Of course, seats right in front of the stadium could be used as a privilege for the upper class, but older members of Congress who were tired of the games usually only stayed in the upper class.

Among them, the upper floor of the Colosseum was a place where nobles could enjoy entertainment and watch games.

Not only did it have a panoramic view of the stadium, but it also had soft wooden chairs finished with natural marble and cushions made of luxurious silk fabric.

The position and form within it were different depending on the status and class of each noble.

Additionally, the interior, located behind the spectator seats, had gorgeous and luxurious decorations with murals and sculptures on display.

There was also a sauna and bathhouse for nobles, as well as a space for drinking and sexual pleasure.

In one of the independent saunas, two people were enjoying wine and fruit while naked.

Below the two men, women were constantly playing with their mouths and hands to entertain them.

"I'm starting to get tired of this game."

"Yes. So, the new game we are preparing this time is…."

At that moment, a sharp-looking man hurriedly entered the sauna.

"Representative Montecorato, the game is over."

"Okay. How much money did we make this time?"

Of the two men, a man in his 50s who looked like a toad with layers of flesh and two slit eyes asked.

His name was Montecorato. He was a senator of Morgan's empire and the director of the Colosseum.

The man hesitated and cautiously opened his mouth.

"We… We lost everything."

"What?"

Montecorato glared grimly at the man and asked again.

"One child survived."

"Oh no! Damn it!"

He threw down the glass he was holding and jumped up from his seat.

"I told you that no one would survive this time! Do you know how much money I bet? Then who stole my money?"

"This is Representative Hilter."

Hearing the man's words, Montecorato hurriedly put on the clothes the woman gave him and asked, "Damn it! That ignorant bastard! Where is the surviving brat?"

"They are now locked in the dungeon of the Colosseum."

"Lead the way! I'll go down right now and wrench all of their heads off. And call all the executioners who prepared for this match. We'll kill them together."

"All right."

Montecorato walked down the stairs toward the basement of the Colosseum, guided by the man.

As he passed through the underground passage, frowning at the increasingly thick stench and stale air, everyone stopped what they were doing, knelt down, and bowed their heads.

They knew the cruelty of Montecorato better than anyone else.

He regarded people as lower than livestock and did not feel guilty even though he brutally killed them as if it were a joke.

"This way, Senator."

The man arrived at the prison where slaves were imprisoned.

The size and sanitary conditions were too shabby to be called a prison.

It would have been more appropriate to call it a cage for confining animals.

In a narrow prison cell at the very end of the hallway, a small boy stood with his hands and feet tied to the wall.

Montecorato opened his mouth, squinting his eyes and covering his nose with a handkerchief.

"You're such a brat, aren't you? Open the door."

The underground manager who was following his orders quickly unlocked the prison cell.

As soon as the door opened, Montecorato pulled out the sword strapped to the manager's waist.

The manager was scared and stepped back, and the thin man just watched indifferently.

Perhaps because he had seen Montecorato kill people too many times, he was not impressed.

"Do you know how much money I've lost because of you? I'll cut you off, one by one, starting from your toes. You'll know what true pain is."

Spurt—!

Montecorato slashed Eren's cheek with the tip of his sword. Bright red blood flowed out, but there was no change in Eren's expression.

Montecorato's eyes narrowed. "Look at this. What's wrong with this guy?"

When he looked back and asked, the man answered with an embarrassed expression.

"I tried torturing him a few times to see if someone had planted him, but he didn't speak and his expression didn't change at all. It was like he couldn't feel any pain or emotions. He was an unusual person."

"Really? Okay. Let's see how long you can hold out."

Montecorato pointed the tip of his sword at Eren's toes. He was planning to cut off all his toes.

"Representative Montecorato."

At that moment, a clear young voice was heard. Montecorato knew who it was just by hearing his voice.

A being who found fault with everything like a thorn in the side of the Colosseum's operation: Merca de Agropon, the emperor's favorite second prince.

Montecorato's face distorted and then straightened again. He looked back with a smile on his face and hid his sword behind his back.

Of course, that didn't mean it was hidden. It was a courtesy to the prince.

The thin man and the manager had already taken a long step back, bowing deeply and not daring to raise their heads.

Shiny blonde hair, fair skin, a straight nose, and neat eyebrows. His age seemed similar to Eren's.

And behind the prince stood General Issac, who always followed him like a shadow. The scar running diagonally across Issac's face was impressive.

"Hello, Prince Merca. What are you doing in such a blasphemous place?"

Montecorato politely showed his courtesy and spoke in a pretentious voice.

"You're not planning on killing the kid who passed the test, are you?" Prince Merca glared at him and asked.