Extraordinary Rise: Starting Contract with the Silver Dragon Countess

Chapter 15: Match-fixing?

"Are you here to sign up for the competition?"

The staff at the arena looked at Cohen with scrutiny in their eyes.

It's nothing, Cohen's outfit is just too weird.

Not only was he dressed in elegant aristocratic attire, he also had a mask on his face, and judging by his voice, he didn't look very old.

Those who came here to participate in the gladiatorial fights were all low-level professionals who wanted to show off. There were no nobles as respectable and sophisticated as him. It was really strange that he was still hiding things.

The staff thought about it and thought he was a noble young man who had sneaked out of the house to seek excitement.

Cohen ignored the other party's gaze and said calmly:

“Yes, what is the registration process?”

The staff member stepped aside, revealing a reddish-brown cylinder behind him, and said:

"Press your hand and check your personal level first."

Cohen did as he was told and pressed his palm on the cylinder, triggering a light suction force from the bottom of his palm.

Soon, a dim "one" flashed on the surface of the cylinder, and then a golden "sixteen" appeared next to it.

After seeing the numbers, the staff became more certain of their previous speculation.

Sixteen years old? Just coming of age, and a first-level rookie who had just broken through to the extraordinary level?
Well, he is indeed a young master who comes out to experience life.

The staff routinely handed Cohen two badges.

One bronze badge with a big word "1" engraved on it, and the other badge with nothing on it.

Cohen took the badge and put it on his chest. At the same time, the staff member took out a registration form and said:
"Name?"

Cohen's eyes moved slightly, and after thinking for a moment, he replied:

"The Lord of Shadows."

The staff had a strange smile on their faces and refused to tell their real names. It seemed that he was really a young nobleman who ran away from home in search of excitement.

He asked the usual question:
"How many games are you going to participate in today, sir?"

Cohen asked calmly, "How many games can we have in a day?"

The staff member was stunned for a few seconds, and replied with some surprise:
"Ten matches at most, but I have to remind you that to register for a match you have to pay a deposit of ten gold coins. If you lose, it will be used as your opponent's bonus and will not be refunded."

Cohen said nothing more, took out a purse and handed it to the other party.

The staff looked at the hundred gold coins in the purse and stared at Cohen as if he were a weirdo. A rookie had to participate in ten games on the first day. They really hoped that he would not come crying to return the money.

After working on the workbench for a while, the staff said:
"Alright, Mr. Shadow Lord, your information has been entered. The arena will automatically match you with an opponent. Remember to watch the big screen or listen to the host's voice. After the match begins, anyone who doesn't enter the ring within two minutes will be deemed the loser."

Cohen nodded and left, returning to the top stand. The previous match had already been decided.

After a difficult battle, the monk from the [Sanda Sect] finally subdued the opponent's ferocious mastiff, but there were many wounds on his rough body caused by the canine teeth - the jagged edges turned outward, revealing the creepy muscles and broken tendons.

The air was filled with a strong smell of blood, which only aroused the audience's desire.

In the stands, the sounds of cursing and cheering were mixed together, and many people threw pornographic gambling tickets into the scene.

Needless to say, it must be the audience who lost the bet who are venting their dissatisfaction - the Colosseum has a handicap for every game, which is also the most important source of income for the Extraordinary Duel Arena besides ticket sales.

After watching a few games, Cohen lost interest in watching and just quietly adjusted his breathing.

Night slowly unfolded from the horizon like a vast sheet of black silk, gradually swallowing up the light. The arena, however, became even more lively. The once spacious stands gradually filled up. After a busy day of dining and drinking, nobles and commoners alike chose to come to the arena to release their abundant energy.

The brilliant magic lights illuminated the arena as bright as day. Finally, Cohen heard the host's resounding voice.

"Next matchup: Andrewson vs.... vs. 'The Lord of Shadows'!"

Cohen, who was already waiting in the contestant's passage, walked straight into the fighting area.

Cohen narrowed his eyes slightly and looked at his first opponent.

The man named Anderson was thin and wore a worn black leather jacket. His hair was disheveled and greasy, hanging down in front of his forehead, almost covering his eyes. His eyes were small, but they revealed greed and alertness.

"A wanderer?"

Cohen took a look at the opponent's badge. The level was the same as his own, both were in the lower bronze rank, with a record of three losses and no wins.

It seems that his strength is not that good, after all, he is a newcomer and will not match a particularly strong opponent.

From Anderson's perspective, Cohen was dressed in upper-class clothes, wearing a mask to deceive people, and even had a record of zero. He had the same thoughts as the staff member just now - could this kid be some young master who came out to experience life?
I couldn't help but feel secretly happy, it seemed that my first victory was about to come.

When the audience in the stands saw the two men come out, they immediately booed.

A novice who has never played a game, and a wanderer who has never won a game, this game is really not interesting.

Seeing that the scene was a bit deserted, the experienced host spoke at the right time:

"Oh, dear audience, it looks like our Florence Arena has welcomed a new member today. This friend, called 'Lord of Shadows,' has a rather impressive nickname. I'm just not sure if his strength lives up to his nickname. Let's all look forward to it together!"

There is a five-minute preparation time before the official competition, which not only allows the players to adapt to the venue, but also gives the audience time to place bets.

As a rookie with no record and unstable aura, no one was optimistic about Cohen. Most people bought the Wanderer who looked relatively stronger.

With a whistle, the game officially begins.

Hearing the whistle, Andrewson, who had three competition experiences, moved quickly. He quickly took out a sharp dagger from his waist, and with a slight flick of his slender legs, he quickly approached Cohen like a nimble night cat.

Cohen's eyes moved slightly. Although the opponent's movements were agile, under his powerful soul perception, there were flaws everywhere.

Ten meters...five meters...

Seeing that Cohen was still motionless, Anderson thought that the other party was panicking and frightened because it was his first time on the court.

With joy in his heart, he lightly swung the dagger, a cold light flashed in the air, and went straight to Cohen's vital point.

The people in the stands also felt bored. It had only been ten seconds since the whistle blew. Was the game about to end?

Just as the dagger was about to cut through Cohen's throat, the latter leaned back slightly and calmly dodged the seemingly inevitable attack.

Anderson's body shook, as if Cohen's backward step had been calculated long ago. In a trance, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, and then his consciousness gradually dissipated, and the dagger in his hand fell to the ground.

Instant kill!

A punch from a Bronze Body that has reached 50% training level is not something a weak wanderer can withstand.

The sudden reversal in the game made the audience dissatisfied, and the shouts of "fixed match! Fixed match!" resounded through the sky.

Most people didn't see Cohen's evasion clearly and just thought that the wanderer stopped on purpose.

Look at this kid, he is wearing a mask, hiding his head and showing his tail, and also wearing aristocratic clothes. It is rare for aristocrats to participate in the competition in person in the arena.

Could this be some rich young master's paid money to have this person as a playmate?
Due to the inherent hostility and resentment towards the aristocracy, the audience's dissatisfaction with Cohen reached its peak for a time!
　Change the update time to 8 am to 6 pm.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)