I’m a Rebel in Another World

Chapter 48: Gladiatorial Arena

"Hello everyone! My name is Benkoro, though more people prefer to call me Bloodhorn, and I quite like that name myself.

From now on, you all fall under my management. I guarantee your food, clothing, shelter, and transportation, and you must obey me completely.

If you misbehave! I won't just spank your bottoms!

I'll only twist your heads off and hang them in the corridors, just like your predecessors did!"

A middle-aged man with a small mustache rested his hands on a patterned metal cane, smiling as he explained the situation to the boys.

After speaking, he raised his cane and pointed toward the human skulls hanging from the ceiling like decorations along the corridor.

Seeing that none of the boys spoke, Bloodhorn Benkoro smiled and said to his assistant beside him: "See! I told you we should transfer a group from the base. Look at this quality, how excellent!"

The assistant smiled in response but remained silent.

Bloodhorn gently tapped his cane on the floor tiles, producing a crisp metallic sound.

"Alright! Next, I'll show you my masterpiece, which will also be your future home!"Bloodhorn led the way as the boys, escorted by fully armed guards, entered a massive structure.

This was an oval-shaped arena with tiered seating stands extending all the way to the top.

Of course, here it was called the gladiatorial arena.

The central combat area was slightly larger than a football field, with stone paving that showed the marks of time—mottled, uneven, and tinged with a brownish hue.

This was the result of years upon years of blood saturation. If you pressed your nose to the stones, you could still smell the metallic scent of blood.

"The gladiatorial arena has a long history, even longer than the kingdom itself! The changes of time have destroyed this place twice.

After numerous renovations and modifications, it has become more magnificent and more solid! Originally, it belonged to a certain Marquis of the kingdom.

Later, I bought it and spent considerable effort cleaning and renovating it, bringing this ancient structure back to life.

This place can accommodate fifty thousand spectators, but we don't like making money from poor folks.

So I modified it, dividing it into various viewing stands and private boxes.

Altogether, there are two thousand units that can hold at least forty thousand people!

Close your eyes and imagine it! Tens of thousands of people cheering for your performance, throwing gold coins down that clink and clatter!

You become the center of attention, the brightest stars in the gladiatorial arena!

Isn't it wonderful? Don't you feel valuable?"

Bloodhorn pointed toward the central area, specifically the twenty-one protruding viewing stands: "Remember these twenty-one stands! These house our distinguished guests, the ones who can change your destinies!

If they take notice of you! You'll receive much better treatment, and they might even give you rewards.

With even better luck, they might pay to take you away.

From then on, you'll become free people—or perhaps not, maybe they'll become your new masters."

Bloodhorn tapped his cane on the floor tiles once more: "Anyway! You do have chances to leave, besides the lucky method I just mentioned.

There's another way! That's to pay off your debts. I spent real gold and silver to acquire you!

Your redemption fees aren't too high! The most expensive is twenty thousand gold coins! The cheapest is seven thousand!

Besides those twenty-one distinguished guests, we take eighty percent of the money spectators throw as rewards, and you keep the rest!

Additionally, your daily expenses here cost twenty gold coins! I'm not being heartless!

Free medical care, readily available food, comfortable rooms—these all cost money, and it's not expensive at all!

What you need to do is participate in gladiatorial combat once a week. The specific events will be announced in advance."

At this point, Bloodhorn's smile vanished, his eyes turning icy: "Kids! Use your blood and lives to entertain the audience, to make money for me, to fight for your own futures!

I mean what I say! As long as you save enough money, you can redeem your freedom and leave—no tricks involved! This is the gladiatorial industry's rule! I won't break it!"

After the introduction, Henwil and the others were assigned to their respective rooms.

Only fifty-three boys remained now, each with their own room.

But every six rooms shared a common area, with shared toilets, washrooms, kitchen, and bathing facilities.

The boys were randomly scattered and assigned to various suites.

As Bloodhorn had said, the living conditions here were far superior to those at the Forging Furnace.

Over the next three days, all the custom-ordered items for the boys arrived.

Dressed in white outfits, the boys began their adaptation training.

During this period, Bloodhorn even brought in a dancer to teach the boys a flashy but impractical sword dance.

Finally, on the sixth day at the gladiatorial arena, the boys participated in the closing performance of that week's games.

Dressed in well-fitted white clothing, they performed the sword dance in the blood-soaked arena.

The combination of these clean-looking boys and the brutal environment created a sickening aesthetic beauty.

The already depraved noble spectators became mesmerized, screaming wildly toward the arena.

Some nobles lifted their clothing, exposed themselves, and made obscene gestures toward the boys below.

Among these nobles were not just men, but many women as well.

Seeing the atmosphere ignited, Bloodhorn stood on the high platform and addressed the crowd through a special device.

That contraption resembling several twisted megaphones could project his voice throughout the entire arena.

"Welcome, distinguished guests! I understand your desires!

But they're just children! My conscience would trouble me if I made them fight!

How about this! If you truly want to see these little darlings perform! Then I'll find a way to soothe my conscience!

One week from now! Welcome to the Bloodhorn Arena! At that time, these little darlings will definitely take the stage for a performance!

I guarantee you'll see what you want to see—definitely not this beautiful sword dance, but bloody combat!"

After these words, the atmosphere in the arena grew even more frenzied, with spectators throwing down large amounts of money.

Four days later, Henwil received his assignment. The boy gladiators would be divided into four matches.

All were group battles—the first four matches would feature teams of twelve fighting against beasts, death row prisoners, and captive soldiers respectively.

The final match would pit a team of five against five adult gladiators under Bloodhorn's command.

Without doubt, the final match was the most dangerous.

Even the lowest-level gladiators were specially trained—stronger than captive soldiers and skilled in combat.

And Henwil was clearly assigned to this group.

With him were several other exceptional boys, including surprisingly enough the girl named Mishir.

These four and Henwil were now rearranged to share the same suite.

They all knew Henwil was the most capable among them, having received special training from Scarface Oki.

Now they wanted to know what plans Henwil had.