The Weakest Fighter!

The world of Book Lords depends highly on resources.

Yes, they might be able to cultivate by meditating and taking in Qi, but that has its own limits, leading people to use spirit crystals to recover or expand Qi.

The energy from spirit crystals is pure and thus has the ability to make one advance a stage or major realm in a shorter period of time.

In Acoustic City, spirit crystals are monopolized by the major clans and high-ranking individuals, secretly forcing everyone to be tied to the big tree, protecting the city.

That being said, there is a common saying that is said to have created cultivation itself.

Heaven sees all that is on the ground as equal. There is an opportunity for everyone, even if it is slim.

This is why blessed lands appear.

In Acoustic City, as the major clans, big corporations, and the Mayor faction take everything, there is a place for lone Book Lords to get resources to grow.

**The Battlefield**

It is just as the name implies; it is a place where one has to fight to get rewarded.

Killing is prohibited, but countless deaths have been recorded in this place.

Major clans can't take the risk of sending their elite members to this place. They are afraid of the mockery they will get from the other clans for being broke.

A good reputation is harder to maintain; it will crumble from just the push of a finger.

And, they were afraid of losing their top members.

This is why this place had flourished enough to compare with the major clans of Acoustic City, or even greater.

Acoustic Grand Treasure owns most of the cultivation stores in the city, and their biggest income is from the Battlefield, which has the same area as a soccer pitch.

The reason is, there was no greater source of entertainment other than watching Book Lords fights each other.

Also, seats were limited, and the scouts from the major clans would take up all of the VIP seating areas, which cost 1000 spirit coins per match.

The rest of the ground would cost 10 spirit coins for a ticket to watch all the matches of the day, and the television subscription cost 5 essence coins monthly.

On big matches, the prices would soar up, except for the television subscription.

The Battlefield's outer walls were made out of ravishing black material with a rare spell that restricted anyone without an entrance ticket or participating token to enter.

Outside the walls was an asphalt pavement that stretched for at least 300 feet. There was a path that led to the garage where all sorts of cars were parked, from lavish to broken ones.

There were two long queues at opposite sides of the giant stadium. The one on the east was covered by the shadow of the stadium.

These were the spectators. There were many, but not all of them were going to get in since there were limited seats inside the stadium.

On the other side, the sun was shining on a line stretching like an Amazon anaconda.

This was the queue for the fighters, most of them had joyful faces despite knowing they wouldn't get refunded if they lost. That being said, there was a chance of leaving a big impression on the scouts.

When the hour hand moves past 1800 hours, Book Lords would engage in a battle of spells. As the saying goes, big fish eat at night.

During the daytime, the audience is given a bad appetizer that makes them want to puke. People would be fighting using their bodies like wrestlers on Earth, and even mortals are allowed to participate.

Although it is bloody, it can't be compared to fireballs clashing against each other.

In the middle of the stadium, a boy wearing a red dobok could be seen crushing toward the direction of the sun. With each roll he took, he would leave a stylish print of his own blood. His face was covered by a mask that had maple leaves glued on it, yet people could tell he was bleeding from his seven orifices.

The audience didn't feel pity for him; they wanted him to die. From a single punch, he coughed out blood, a slap sent him flying, a kick broke his ribs.

He was so freaking weak that they wanted him to die!

"End that weakling!"

"How can someone so weak dare to come to the Battlefield?"

"He is wasting our time!"

Hearing the crowd's loud jeers, Ray Kara felt ecstatic as a small chuckle came from underneath his tight blue face mask that had golden markings on the front.

His chest danced around and made some of the girls go wild. Ray Kara jumped up and down, letting the muscles of his shin and ample out from the splits of his trousers.

His brown eyes turned bloodshot as he looked at the person calling himself 'Unrivalled Maple Warrior'. "Listen, kid, do us a favor and give up. Your punches do not even hurt, you are damn weak! To top it off, you are just a mortal blinded by greed! Stop wasting my time and surrender!"

Nevertheless, the young man struggled with all his might to get off the ground, and before he could speak, he could be heard coughing up a mouthful of blood from underneath his mask.

"Hahahahahaha! You motherfucker! Stop finding excuses and fight me. Is this how pros fight? It hurts my pride, brats judging a book by its cover, tsk, tsk."

Ray Kara was moved by how the brat presented himself. He didn't seem to be lacking confidence in the slightest. His dobok seemed to have been chewed by a cow, and his skin was battered as it was wounded from all its layers.

Such a guy was still willing to fight!

Heavens!

The luchador tried to open his mouth, "I comm-!"

However, Mickey quickly cut him off before he even started. "Shut the fuck up! Show me your best!"

Gu Mickey had his reasons for provoking his opponents. It wasn't because he was a masochist who liked pain; in fact, he was the opposite.

This was all for his plan, "Cry Now, Laugh Later." He was willing to get hurt now and, in the future, he will trample on everyone.

Who doesn't want to suppress the weak? If you say no, then don't you want to be the richest person in the world?

Ray Kara was enraged by the brat's words, and although he was winning, he felt like he was the one losing instead.

To fuel him even more, Mickey gave him the middle finger with both his hands acting snotty, and in the middle of the process, Mickey got punched in the gut and flew to the invisible arena walls.

Bam-!

Mickey fell to the ground as he got knocked out and the crowd burst into loud cheers.

Nevertheless, Ray Kara didn't feel one bit happy about the current situation, and he felt used. If the buzzer hadn't rung, he could have punched the bastard one more time.

"Damn it! My ranking won't increase from beating such trash!"