GASP**
Socrates jolted upright the moment he regained consciousness. His fists clenched tightly as he squinted around the unfamiliar space, every nerve in his body on high alert while his mind screamed warnings at him.
*I freaking fell unconscious while being transported by the Northern Gladiator. Only heaven knows where that barbarian has taken me.*
While thinking, his eyes continued scanning the area. It did not take long for him to realize one crucial fact—wherever he was, he was not alone.
There were many people around him.
Not a few. Not dozens.
Hundreds.
They were scattered throughout the large chamber, each person clad only in sleek black boxers. It was then Socrates looked down at himself and discovered he was dressed the same way—nothing but tight black boxers clinging to his skin.
*Just boxers… nothing else… and surrounded by men… What kind of gathering is this?*
A surge of panic rose in Socrates' chest, but he knew better than to scream or make unnecessary noise. The entire space was silent. No one spoke. Not even a whisper drifted through the air.
How could he—a teenager among grown men—be the one to break that silence?
*Whoever gathered us here will reveal themselves soon enough… and the reason behind this gathering. All I need to do is wait.*
With that thought, Socrates slowly relaxed his posture, though his senses remained sharp as he patiently waited.
It did not take long.
A bright blue light suddenly illuminated from the only table in the room.
The table was round and crafted from metal, its surface dull yet polished. The blue light gathered above it, forming the projection of a human silhouette dressed in what appeared to be an office suit.
The figure was both blurry and strangely clear at the same time. From the shape alone, one could easily deduce it was a feminine silhouette.
"Welcoming ASPIRANTS to the NORTHERN GLADIATORS GUILD."
A sweet, artificial voice echoed through the chamber, instantly drawing the attention of everyone present.
"I am designed to assume everyone here is aware of the Gladiating Tradition. If that is not the case, then I will explain it to you."
Everyone listened attentively.
Surprisingly, none of the men whispered or murmured to one another.
Was that normal?
Of course not.
Humans were rarely this disciplined. Even in the presence of powerful individuals, faint whispers often travelled through the air. Yet here, even though this was merely a projection, not a single sound could be heard.
Why?
The answer was simple.
Most of the people present came from different backgrounds and different regions.
They were strangers.
Slaves. Broken cultivators. Talentless individuals. Desperate men who had chosen the path of gladiators.
The Northern Gladiator had gathered them from different parts of the Hellenic Republic and thrown them into this single location.
One of the clearest examples of this situation was Socrates himself.
And just as the projection had assumed, many of them already knew about the Gladiating Tradition. Because of that, everyone chose silence. No one knew who the others were… and no one knew who might become their enemy.
"Firstly, you are all currently inside the Second Hangar of a Class-2 Bronze flying ship. Your destination is Bermutha, where the Gladiating Tradition will begin."
"Secondly, the Gladiating Tradition is a system that has been passed down for generations. Only those who fulfill the requirements are recognized as Gladiators."
"Thirdly, there are two tests which one must pass. The first test is known as the Double Battle Royale, and I will now explain its rules."
A slight pause followed as the information sank into the minds of the listeners.
*Bermutha… Battle Royale…*
Socrates' thoughts immediately began working.
*I've heard Father mention Battle Royale before… It's a type of war strategy where everyone fights individually. No allies. Everyone except yourself is an enemy, and there is usually an objective one must reach.*
But what exactly is a Double Battle Royale?
"The first rule is to find a double. Your total headcount is 260. Form pairs of two. Rule one: find a compatible partner."
"The second rule is to find a Bermutha Token. There are only thirty tokens in Bermutha, and each token can transport two people once the sun rises."
A faint ripple of tension passed through the crowd.
Only thirty tokens.
That meant only sixty survivors.
The projection continued calmly.
"Additional information."
"The search for the tokens will begin immediately after sunset."
"Before sunset, there will be a Safe Zone lasting one hour."
"Aspirants are allowed to search for supplies during this time. The amount of supplies you find will depend entirely on your individual luck."
"There are also hostile creatures living in Bermutha. While the Safe Zone prevents Aspirants from attacking one another, the creatures are not bound by that rule."
"So therefore… Aspirants should remain vigilant."
The projection paused briefly before delivering the final statement.
"The Class-1 Bronze Battleship will self-destruct in ten minutes."
"Find your partner and exit the ship before that time."
"See you at sunrise."
The projection dissipated instantly.
The blue light flickered once… then vanished.
And at that moment, the silent atmosphere inside the chamber changed completely.
The humans who had been quietly observing one another began openly evaluating the people around them.
Eyes scanned bodies.
Men judged one another within seconds.
Everyone was searching for a suitable partner within the limited time frame.
Some judged based on physical appearance.
Some judged based on posture.
Some judged based on aura.
Some simply trusted instinct.
Before Socrates' eyes, numerous pairs had already formed and were heading toward the exit of the battleship.
Yet strangely…
People were avoiding him.
The reason was painfully obvious.
Every person wanted a reliable partner—someone who could watch their back and help them survive.
No one wanted a burden.
Among the hundreds present, Socrates looked the least intimidating.
Not only did he appear physically weak, but he was also clearly a teenager. In the eyes of most of the men here, that automatically meant one thing.
Inexperienced.
So they ignored him.
Socrates noticed this clearly.
He was not naïve.
Which was why he was genuinely surprised when a middle-aged man suddenly began walking toward him.
Socrates immediately clenched his fists as his entire body went on high alert.
"How fare are you, boy?" the man asked calmly.
"Average, Sir," Socrates replied.
"Good. Do you want to partner with me?" The middle-aged man extended his hand for a handshake.
Socrates raised an eyebrow.
*This old man seems powerful… Why would he choose to team up with me?*
*Did he pick me because I'm young? Is he trying to help me?*
*That sounds too good to be true.*
*Still… whatever his reason is, this is an opportunity I can't afford to miss.*
"This junior will be under Senior's care then." Socrates bowed slightly.
"Haha… good." The middle-aged man smiled while stroking his black goatee. One hand rested behind his back while the other remained extended.
"You may refer to me as Senior Jaggers."
"Senior, this junior is Socrates… the son of Trueblood." Socrates bowed deeper this time.
His humility seemed to please the man, who finally withdrew his hand and turned toward the exit.
[5 MINUTES REMAINING]
A mechanical voice echoed across the battleship.
"Trueblood, we will speak later. Let's leave this battleship and begin gathering supplies."
"After you, Senior," Socrates replied.
Jaggers nodded and walked toward the exit while Socrates followed closely behind.
Some nearby individuals who had been listening to their conversation were surprised, quietly discussing Socrates' luck. However, those murmurs quickly died as the timer continued counting down.
Ten minutes later, the battleship exploded high in the sky.
But by then, the Aspirants had already disappeared into the Safe Zone below.
Ready to get the Double Battle Royale started.