Once business was finished, Arabella turned her attention to the match.
This was the semi-annual finals. In regular matches, the aim wasn't necessarily to kill; injuring or incapacitating the opponent was enough.
But the finals were different, a fight to the death based on skill, drawing a more intense fanbase and massive bets.
"The prize for this match is quite generous." Arabella's interest was piqued as she noted the seven-figure amount.
AE's focus was entirely on Arabella. Leaning on the back of his chair, he edged closer to her, his intentions less than innocent.
"Interested in stepping into the ring?" AE asked, a bit offhandedly, distracted as he schemed about how to turn their shallow relationship into something...deeper.
Naturally, Arabella's status meant she wouldn't fight herself; she had plenty of subordinates to do the physical work for her.
Arabella turned her gaze to Raven. Of the three she brought today, Nicholas was weak, and while Albatross could fight, his role made him unsuitable.
That left Raven, though it seemed a bit excessive to have him fight.
The moment Raven felt Arabella's gaze settle on him, he quickly lowered his head, his expression remaining impassive, though beneath the calm, his heart stirred with quiet anticipation.
Arabella reached out, affectionately patting Raven's short-cropped hair. "Go on, and come back victorious."
Raven unconsciously leaned his head into her hand, rubbing against her palm, reluctant to leave.
Arabella enjoyed the soft, bristly feel and patted his head a few more times, chuckling, "Alright, go and come back soon. Win us some money, and I'll treat you to a nice meal."
Raven lowered his head, his eyes shining—not because he cared about the meal, but because he wanted to go out with Arabella.
With long strides, Raven headed straight for the ring.
Quick and decisive.
AE remembered Raven somewhat; at their first meeting, he had almost mistaken the imposing figure walking ahead for the infamous Arabella herself.
In the end, Arabella appeared from behind, her eyes squinting into slits as she waved and greeted with a smile.
From that moment, his interest in Arabella surged immensely.
To him, a woman's value was minimal. Other than for physical pleasure, he couldn't think of any other purpose.
But Arabella was different. With her, physical pleasure felt like a lower-level enjoyment. Having her body would be an easy feat.
Arabella wasn't a woman of chastity and devotion; she didn't care about matters in bed and saw it as nothing more than a temporary arrangement.
Conquering Arabella was like a battle, and the feeling of subduing her was far more alluring and intoxicating.
Raven stepped into the ring.
The crowd erupted because Raven had chosen to fight the entire round.
No one had ever fought the entire round in a death match before. The rule was simple: as long as he didn't die, he'd face challenger after challenger. Unlike others, who could rest and skip rounds, he'd get no break.
Winning the full round would earn double rewards, yet no one had the courage to attempt it.
After all, money was only useful if one was alive to spend it.
On the platform, the opponent began with a flying kick.
Raven moved with lightning speed, slipping out of sight in a flash, then lifted his foot and delivered a direct blow to his opponent's spine.
The nearby referee heard the crack of bone, and the opponent collapsed, blood foaming from his mouth as he died instantly.
For a moment, silence fell; Raven's swift moves left the audience struggling to react.
But soon, the arena exploded with cheers as the second challenger stepped forward.
This one was equally fierce, beginning with a swift, powerful punch toward Raven's face.
Raven's gaze darkened, and with a swift sidestep, he dodged the punch, sliding smoothly to the edge of the arena. Before his opponent could strike again, he planted one foot on the railing and leapt into the air, his elbow slicing through the air like lightning, aiming a fierce blow straight at his opponent's neck.
A sickening crack sounded as the opponent's neck broke, and he fell dead.
The crowd roared, never having witnessed such high-level combat.
While the arena buzzed with excitement, the VIP room remained rather quiet.
Arabella lounged against Albatross, sipping her drink, occasionally murmuring with AE about current international affairs.
She didn't seem concerned about Raven's performance below.
AE thought that Arabella sending Raven to fight was just unfair, like an adult bullying children—utterly shameless.
Though the world had many skilled fighters, only ten held the top ranks, far beyond ordinary reach, and Raven was ranked sixth.
But he was more curious about Arabella.
Raven was Arabella's disciple. If he was so formidable, one could only imagine Arabella's skills.
His lecherous gaze fixed on Arabella's slender, ivory legs—smooth, with a graceful bone structure, almost impossibly delicate. It was hard to fathom the lethal power those legs could wield.
If he could have Arabella beneath him, forcing her to show expressions of humiliation, pain, and anger beneath her facade...
The thought alone made him dizzy with excitement and his blood rush.
He shifted uncomfortably, spreading his legs slightly to ease the tight, uncomfortable tension in his hips.
But Arabella simply wouldn't sleep with him.
And he didn't dare sleep with her either.
As the first and second best fighters, both were wary and suspicious of each other. One careless move, and a death knell could ring in the bedroom.
So, the rumors that he and Arabella were involved? Those were giving him way too much credit.
He wouldn't dare mess with Arabella in bed; he had nothing but his daily fantasies.
Unless he broke her arms and legs—but then, she wouldn't be Arabella anymore.
Below, Raven was already fighting his eighth opponent. His rapid, lethal moves made it clear to everyone that he was a professional killer.
Only a weapon trained exclusively for killing could be so sharp, so bloodthirsty.
For a moment, no one dared to challenge him. But backing down wasn't an option, so after some hesitation, the eighth fighter pulled out a short knife.
Boos filled the crowd; using a weapon in a hand-to-hand fight was considered disgraceful.
But faced with either disgrace or death, the fighter had clearly chosen the former.
However, using a weapon against an expert like Raven only guaranteed a more gruesome end.
Raven's expression remained blank as he seized his opponent's wrist, redirecting the momentum to slash the knife across the man's neck.
Even with his swift dodge, a few drops of blood still splattered onto him. Raven frowned in mild annoyance—he'd be going out with Arabella soon and had to keep up appearances.
Once someone had introduced a weapon, others became less restrained; soon, another challenger entered wielding a machete.
Raven now detested weapons because they were prone to staining with blood.
He dodged a few times, then caught an opening and delivered a flying kick that sent the opponent sprawling, his explosive power astounding.
In the end, a few fighters decided to gang up on him all at once.
Raven began with a spinning kick, snapping one opponent's neck. Then, using the momentum, he leaned back, wrapped his arms around another's waist, and, with a powerful twist, fractured his opponent's hipbone.
Ferocious and swift, delivering a single, decisive blow with no hesitation.
In less than half an hour, Raven won the match.
The dozen or so competitors were among the best, yet they were defeated in an instant.
The organizers were perceptive, realizing that someone as powerful as him must have an even more fearsome backer. They wasted no time and promptly arranged the prize money.
Raven felt pleased, a rare smile finally appearing on his face.
He was tall and handsome, yet his years of silence and indifference left a chilling, unapproachable aura about him.
Arabella, beaming, patted Raven's shoulder and handed him a drink, "Good work. Must've been tiring. Have a drink. I'll take you for a good meal later."
The glass was one Arabella had already used. She handed it over without a second thought, and this pleased Raven all the more.
With keen observation, he drank from the spot where Arabella's lips had touched.
An indirect kiss was still a kiss, stirring his heart into a restless frenzy.
"AE, once you've prepared everything, let me know. Looking forward to working with you."
Arabella said this, clearly signaling her departure.
The problem was, AE wasn't ready to let her go just yet, and eagerly tried to persuade her, "How about dinner together?"
Arabella shook her head, hooking an arm around Raven's neck, saying, "My Raven won; I'm taking him out to celebrate."
My Raven!
Raven lowered his gaze, feeling as if his soul were floating with joy.
His happiness only served to deepen the resentment of the men around him.
Albatross narrowed his eyes, burying his venomous thoughts deep inside. There were others around, and he knew better than to lose control here.
AE wasn't pleased either. Refusing his invitation for the sake of a mere subordinate—behind his mask, his expression twisted. "Master Unknown. We're partners; we should get better acquainted, don't you think?"
Arabella nodded, seemingly indifferent to the tension beneath the surface.
She said with a smile, "How about we meet tomorrow night for the sauna?"
AE was stunned, having never expected such an unorthodox invitation from Arabella.
All he could muster was a faint hum, left momentarily speechless.
