The Name of Julius, The Family of Gods!

It was too late.

Night, who did not have any weapon in his hand, had no intention of saving the man.

Though he felt deep sympathy for the man's impending fate, he wasn't suicidal enough to risk his life for others.

At least in reality, it didn't allow him to act recklessly as he did in the simulated universe.

As the lion's claws tore through the man's throat, the unwilling Greek warrior, grasped the lion's head, eyes wide open as he was bitten to death.

At first, there were roars, screams of fear, and curses, but the moment his throat was bitten through, all sounds ceased.

No, one sound remained.

Except the sound of blood spraying into the air, very subtle... one might not notice it without listening closely.

But for those who witnessed the entire hunting process, it was impossible not to pay attention.

Connecting the sight and sound in front of them sent chills down their spines.

Instantly, the stands erupted with countless shouts of excitement or curses.

Before the Greek warrior even entered, some had already set up bets on how long he would survive.

Yes, how long he would survive, not whether he could make it to the end.

No one believed anyone could pass those inhumane trials below.

Although they couldn't compare to the twelve labors of Greek mythology, they were still hellish trials challenging human physiological limits.

They believed that unless the legendary demigod Heracles himself descended, no one could walk out of there alive.

And now—someone shouted in frustration, "I thought he would at least stay in the cage until the snakes came down.

That way, he could survive for at least three minutes.

But he couldn't even wait a moment before rushing to his death.

This fool! He made me waste an oris (gold coin)!"

"The next round, you'll definitely make money. I believe it was just bad luck," responded the bookie happily, never stingy with smiles for generous gentlemen.

In the midst of all the noise, the slave master began selecting the next candidate.

He loudly asked, "Is there anyone else willing to take on the trial?!"

But there was no response.

Compared to the previous eagerness, witnessing another bloody death had made even the brave shrink back.

The little bit of courage that had just risen was instantly worn away.

That was clearly not a path to freedom, but to death!!

They knew from the start it would end like this, but they couldn't help fantasizing about a miracle, about the possibility of a last-minute burst of strength, killing the lions, and intimidating the pride.

Betting on a chance, maybe they could win their freedom.

But clearly, facing these hungry lions, they had no chance from the beginning.

When no one volunteered, the slave master became angry and decided to pick someone himself...

This time, his eyes fell on the old man beside Night.

The old man was still babbling, using the conversation to mask his inner fear.

His timid appearance was like a quail, just short of muttering "can't see me, can't see me, don't pick me" and burying his head in the ground.

But sometimes, the more afraid you are of being chosen, the more likely you are to be chosen.

It's like quantum entanglement—it's all a matter of fate.

Slave Master: "Haruman! You~!!! Come out!! You're next!"

"What?!"

Hearing this, the old man's face turned deathly pale, showing extreme fear and despair.

"I must have misheard, he must have called for Saruman, or Daluman, or something."

"Damn it, do you dare to ignore my orders? You servus (talking tool)!"

The slave master suddenly strode forward and then rudely grabbed the old man, dragging him out.

The old man immediately let out desperate screams.

The slaves around him quickly scattered, distancing themselves.

They were afraid of being implicated... and eventually being chosen to be the sacrifice for the nobles' games.

"Please, I beg you...

Great master, I plead for your mercy.

The Julius family will remember your kindness!"

"You old fool, still dreaming of being a noble?"

The old man's words made the slave master even more furious when he mentioned the name Julius.

Julius was a noble family in the capital of Rome.

Although they had fallen on hard times, it wasn't a name anyone could easily impersonate.

Could a noble truly end up wandering the streets and be captured and sold as a slave?

The likelihood was possible but lower than winning the lottery!

Who would believe such an absurd lie?!

From the beginning, the slave master never believed the old man's rants, especially since the first time he saw him, the old man was as ragged, downcast, and filthy as one could be!

Even the slave traders who captured him didn't think he would sell for much.

They included him as a bonus when selling other slaves.

For this unmarketable and food-wasting servus, the slave master always found him unpleasant, often beating and whipping him.

This time, he decided to send the old man to the games to entertain the nobles.

Occasionally changing the flavor by showing the despair and death struggles of the old and weak might make the nobles even more excited and happy.

Knowing that this was certain death, the old man no longer had the demeanor of the knowledgeable person he had shown Night.

Instead, he made a huge commotion, crying and shouting.

Even some of the nobles in the audience seats were attracted by the commotion.

The old man promised the slave master that he would write to his family to send lots and lots of money, but the slave master didn't believe a word and continued whipping him.

However, the old man clung to the slave master's leg, refusing to let go.

"Let go!! You dirty fool!!" The slave master was about to explode with anger.

And just as he was about to whip him again,

*Smack~!!*

The whip cracked in the air was suddenly caught by someone.

The slave master instinctively tried to pull the whip back, but it was as if it was caught in steel, unable to move an inch.

When he followed the whip with his eyes to see who dared to interfere with his punishment of the slave, he didn't see the hulking giant he imagined.

Instead, Night's handsome face looked back at him, with eyes carrying an overwhelming sense of pressure.

It was the simplest and most direct form of suppression through sheer vitality.

For a moment, the slave master was intimidated.

From the moment Night was first locked in the dungeon, facing the slave master's oppression with bowed head, to now, when a single glance could make the slave master's body stiffen and blood freeze, had taken less than half a day.

——The slave master never could have imagined that in such a short time, a person could change so drastically, feeling as though they had become someone entirely different.

"You…!"