The black-veiled young woman calmly collected the cups of Bloody Mary, then cast a long, unreadable glance at Tang San.
"Ever since the Hell Savior and her group arrived in Slaughter City, you haven't entered the Hell Slaughter Arena again," she said flatly. "Are you afraid?"
She continued without waiting for an answer.
"In the past hundred years, only three disciples of the Clear Sky Sect have entered Slaughter City. The first two left behind names that still echo within these walls. You are the third."
Her tone grew slightly sharper.
"Two days from now, the Hell Savior will undergo her final hundred-win duel. Their actions have already angered the respected Slaughter King. In that battle, Spirit Douluo-level experts will be deployed."
She paused, then added with deliberate emphasis:
"Based on our observations, your strength is not inferior to a Spirit Douluo. If you still care about the reputation of the Clear Sky Sect, we expect you to participate in this Hell Slaughter Arena confrontation."
For a moment, silence lingered in the tavern.
Tang San's body trembled slightly.
But he did not respond immediately.
After a long pause, a faint, self-mocking smile appeared on his face.
"I won't go."
"Coward."
The word came without hesitation.
But Tang San only gave a low, bitter laugh.
"A coward?" he repeated softly. "Heh… with all due respect, the people you want me to face… will be completely annihilated."
He lifted his gaze slightly, eyes hollow yet sharp.
"You think I haven't considered entering the arena these past months?"
"You think I enjoy drowning myself in blood wine just to pass the time?"
"No."
His voice lowered.
"I'm just… trying to numb myself."
For a brief moment, something in his expression flickered—something tired, something broken.
He suddenly understood, perhaps for the first time, the state his father had once fallen into.
Not weakness.
Not laziness.
But helplessness in the face of something overwhelming.
Because the more clearly one understood the gap in strength, the harder it became to even step forward.
Images surfaced in his mind.
Zhu Zhuqing. Xiao Wu. Ning Rongrong. Ye Lingling.
Each of them had changed beyond recognition.
Zhu Zhuqing's Nine Yin White Bone Claw had reached a level of terrifying sharpness, her strikes now capable of tearing through metal and stone as if it were paper.
Xiao Wu had unlocked the fifth gate of her internal system. Her combat technique had evolved into a seamless flow of movement and elemental coordination, increasing her overall combat effectiveness several times over.
Ning Rongrong's Adamantine Inch Punch had reached a level where even reinforced defenses could be shattered in a single blow. Her close-combat strength was no longer something a support-type soul master should logically possess.
And Ye Lingling…
She was the most terrifying of all.
Slaughter City itself felt like her domain. Within half a year, her Black Lotus had fully bloomed, evolving beyond the limits of the Nine Heart Begonia lineage into a Ten-Grade Black Lotus.
Not only did it carry illusion-based suppression through its "Sea Bloom Illusion," but it also possessed a horrifying life-draining effect that could wither dozens, even hundreds of opponents in mere seconds, leaving nothing but hollow remnants behind.
It wasn't growth anymore.
It was evolution.
And it was precisely because he understood all of this so clearly…
That Tang San felt no confidence left.
Only exhaustion.
And a growing sense of defeat he could no longer ignore.