“Lowlifes will always be lowlifes,” Anastasia sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. “All you know is cheap tricks.
“If you’ve got real skills, prove it and clear the stage fair and square. Stop scheming behind my back!”
“Tricks?” Mick shot back, glaring at her. “We cleared this stage with our own strength, no handouts needed. Unlike you, who had to sneak a map of the secret room just to scrape by and tie with us.”
“A tie?” Anastasia threw her head back and laughed, the sound sharp and mocking. “Who gave you the guts to think you’re on my level? That final spot is
mine.
“You might’ve made it to the last round, but without the antidote? Good luck surviving. Even if you escape, you’re as good as dead!”
She smirked, her eyes glinting with malice. “The poison gas in this stage kicks in after ten minutes. Weaklings like you? You’ll be bleeding from every hole in your face before you even get close to the exit.”
With a dramatic flourish, Anastasia pulled a small bottle of pills from her coat pocket, holding it up like a trophy. “Lucky for me, I came prepared.
“This intermediate elixir tablet? It neutralizes the poison completely. Now, if you wanna live, here’s the deal: get on your knees, and swear to be my personal servant.
“Do that, and maybe I’ll toss you a pill. Otherwise, you can crawl out of this room and still drop dead. No spot, no glory, no nothing.”
Anastasia rattled the porcelain bottle in her hand, her grin vicious as she tried to crush Raven’s pride underfoot. She wanted to make sure everyone knew
who was in charge.
She was certain Raven would cave, groveling just to survive. The other candidates nearby shot jealous glances at the bottle in her hand.
A pill like that was rare–way out of reach for regular folks like them.
Even those who’d sided with Anastasia, helping her gang up on Raven, had never been offered anything so valuable.
But they also knew the truth: only four spots were up for grabs in the final round. Most of them had no shot at advancing, so they figured they might as well back Anastasia and hope for scraps if she secured her place.
If she made it into Deariton, her loyal followers might snag a few perks–maybe even a rare elixir tablet. That kind of payoff was enough to make even
Raven play ball, or so they thought.
In their mind, Raven, that scrappy girl from some nowhere city, was riding a lucky streak that had everyone’s jaws on the floor.
Even if they couldn’t nab a promotion spot themselves, the crowd figured backing her might at least land them an Intermediate elixir tablet–a prize worth more than gold in these parts.
But when Raven caught sight of the tablet in Anastasia’s hand, her expression didn’t flicker. Not one bit.
“This trash–tier tablet?” she said, voice cutting through the arena like a blade. “Good for feeding fish, maybe.”
The crowd outside erupted in laughter, their jeers bouncing off the walls.
“Is this girl for real?” someone hollered, “That’s an Intermediate elixir tablet, and she’s talking about tossing it to the fish? She s full of it!”
“If she had half a brain, she wouldn’t be mouthing off like that,” another sneered.
“Even the big–shot families treat those tablets like sacred relics. Who does this nobody from a third–rate city think she is, talking smack?”
“Even the big–shot families treat those tablets like sacred relics. Who does this nobody from a third–rate city think he is, talking smack?”
1/2
10:52 Wed, 25 Jun o
Chapter 969
The crowd’s chatter grew nastier by the second. Some even spat venom, hoping Raven would choke in the toxic haze of the last stage.
“Let her die in that secret room,” one growled. “Don’t waste resources saving her sorry ass.”
No one took Raven’s words señously. To them, she was just a loudmouth from the sticks, doomed to crash and burn.
AD
