Edge of the Apocalypse

Chapter 7: Death Arena



Chapter 7: Death Arena

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"Second Lieutenant, what is the kung fu of being beaten?"

A black youth asked timidly.

Lieutenant Ron nodded and said, "Good question. Being beaten is also a skill. In battle, injuries are inevitable. How to minimize your injuries requires a good understanding of the situation and your body. Only by grasping this can you understand what it means to avoid the heavy and take the light. Give me the simplest example."

He walked to an iron bed, which was stained with blood. A young girl lay naked on it without moving, her left ear and even her cheek leaving a few bright red whip marks. The girl was actually sucked alive by the instructor. Ron pulled the corpse to the ground without pity, pulled the girl's head aside, and pointed at her ear. "You see, this is the end of not protecting yourself," he said. Relative to the head, ears, and other parts of the body. "Her arm is obviously able to withstand more and greater damage. As long as she knows how to protect her head with her hands, the worst outcome will be an injury to her arm and not losing her life!"

Ron waved to the instructor behind him and immediately handed a dagger to him. "Take this part of his arm for example, if you stab it down with a knife " "Look, the muscles here are thicker than the fat. A single slash will break the skin and bleed. But it would be different if it was sliced here " he said as he raised his saber and sliced it on the shoulder of the corpse's arm.

The saber light in his hand flashed and this time, it cut the artery in his wrist. The corpse had just died, and before the blood could coagulate and settle, a blood arrow shot out, splitting Ron's face. He wiped his face carelessly and smiled sinisterly, "Do you see clearly now? You little bastards, if you want to survive, you must first understand yourself. Only then will you know which part of your body you will survive and which will die easily if you are attacked!"

Ron then used the girl's corpse as a teaching material and used the dagger to give these teenagers a live lecture on anatomy. By the time the class was over, the girl's corpse had been completely torn apart, and even her internal organs had been taken out. The barracks was filled with a strong smell of blood. The instructors were expressionless, but nine out of ten of the older children spat out bile.

Alan did not vomit. He had seen something more bloody than this. However, his face was pale. Ron's expression of ignoring the girl's corpse made him feel uncomfortable. After all, a few minutes ago, he was still a living person.

Ron looked at the children with satisfaction and asked the instructor to write down the numbers of the youths who did not vomit. He saw Ellen and walked over and said, "You're good, kid. I noticed you. You're more nimble and alert than the other kids. Tell me, what's your name?"

"Alan."

"Alright, Ellen. Let me guess, your father is a hunter?"

"No, I don't have a father. My mother died when I was five." Alan replied.

Even Ron was surprised. If the white-haired boy's skills weren't taught by his parents, then it was very likely that he had found them himself. If he needed to find a way to survive, that could only mean that he had lived in the wild all his life. Thinking of this, Ron became even more interested in him.

"I like you, Ellen. So you see, try to live to the end." He patted Alan on the shoulder and almost broke his arm.

When Second Lieutenant Ron walked out of the barracks, he returned to his office and asked an instructor to bring Allen's information. Ron chuckled dryly, "Looks like someone is going to play tricks on me."

According to the information, the teenager numbered 666 should be named Beth, not the current Allen. Moreover, this Bass had a father who ran a mine, which was even more different from Alan's situation. Ron called an instructor and threw the document in front of him. "Who brought this kid here?" He said.

The instructor quickly replied, "It's Levin, Second Lieutenant."

"Very good, call Levin over."

In the barracks, two soldiers brought some medicine for the children to heal. After applying the ointment, Alan took out the manual he had sent out and started reading it. Before he was five, Lanny had taught him many things, the most important of which was to read. In this barracks, more than half of the children could not understand what was written in the manual, but Alan could see a rough idea.

The death arena was a product of the Battle of Dawn. The federal government was set up on a ruined land. In order to let future generations remember this battle and let future generations know the importance of survival, it organized such a great competition. In the beginning, the death arena was only held on the floating island. Later, because of the population explosion, countless people were rushed to the surface.

Coupled with the passage of time, as well as the increasingly serious conflict between the floating island and the surface, the eligibility of the death arena was placed on the surface. Every two years, federal citizens from the 22 districts on the surface are automatically selected by the system. Most of them were teenagers between the ages of ten and fifteen, trained and eliminated. In the end, only one person from each district was allowed to compete, and a total of 22 people would fight for their lives in a designated area of Babylon's floating island.

The winner will receive a number of rewards. These included weapons and equipment, start-up funds, and official residency on the floating island. There was no lack of lucky ones who were chosen by a wealthy family and absorbed into their collateral descendants. They would receive more resources and promotion opportunities.

More importantly, the winner has the privilege of appointing immediate family members ranging from 5 to 10 to relocate to the floating island. This was undoubtedly a huge temptation to the inhabitants of the earth's surface.

In short, the death arena is an important opportunity for citizens on the surface to change their destiny. The prerequisite is that you have to survive, and live to the end!

Just as he finished reading the manual, he heard a pig-like cry from outside. Alan and the other children squeezed into the windows. Outside the window, a fat man was tied up. Second Lieutenant Ron was holding a whip and fiercely whipping the fat man. Alan yelled. He recognized the fatty. It was a military official who had colluded with Hearn and asked him to replace Hearn's son to participate in the death arena.

At this time, an instructor walked into the barracks and shouted, "Number 666, step out!"

Alan walked out and brought the instructor to the square. After Second Lieutenant Ron took his last whip, the fat man was covered in blood, his head lowered, and he didn't know if he was unconscious or dead. Ron, who had just finished smoking, had a ferocious expression on his face, and his murderous aura was uncontrollably released from his body. He stood in front of Alan, the youth's face becoming even paler, but he silently straightened his back.

Ron restrained his killing intent and said, "I've already checked. This number shouldn't be yours. Lewin also told me that he took advantage of me. I hate people challenging my IQ the most. This fat pig and the Horn family are going to die!"

"As for you" Ron said, "you can choose again, stay and continue your training. Or you can choose to leave? I'm kind once in a blue moon, so you'd better seize this opportunity."

Alan bit his lip and raised the manual to shake it, "I wonder if it's true? I'm talking about the rewards."

"It's true." Ron took a towel from the instructor and wiped his hands. He then crossed his waist and looked at the sky. "Although the arena of death has changed under the control of the nobles, there is one thing that remains unchanged. The rewards are still generous enough to change the fate of people."

"Then I choose to stay." Alan gritted his teeth.

Ron lowered his head and narrowed his eyes. "Why? If it were those kids in the barracks, they would love to leave this hell. Trust me, I've been exceptionally forgiving today, and your days will only get harder and harder."

Alan shook his head. He looked at the second lieutenant. His bright red eyes were exceptionally calm and cold. "Because I need to change my fate, so that I can have the strength to settle some debts with some people!"

Ron stared at Alan, who didn't look away. A moment later, the second lieutenant nodded and said, "Well, since you volunteered to stay in hell, I hope you're ready to turn yourself into a devil. Otherwise, you won't be able to survive."

After letting Alan go back, Ron said to the instructor beside him, "I like this kid more and more. He has a goal in his eyes, like a wolf ready to hunt. If he can survive until the end, then I'm really sorry for his prey."

The instructor smiled embarrassedly, his expression a little unnatural. After all, everyone familiar with Ron knew that being liked by him was not a good thing.

Four o'clock in the morning was the time for a good dream. Suddenly, a sharp whistle sounded from outside the barracks. Alan immediately opened his eyes and jumped off the iron bed. Then, he rushed to the nearest window and flipped out. He slept with his clothes and didn't even take off his shoes. Many teenagers took off their clothes in order to feel comfortable. When he heard the whistle, he was smarter and ran out of the barracks without wearing anything. Some of his reactions were so slow that he was still wondering if he should put on his clothes.

In just 10 seconds, Alan was the first to arrive at the playground. Following that, a dozen other youths arrived in random order. They were dressed in neat camp uniforms and obviously did not take off their clothes to sleep. The third batch arrived were seven or eight children wearing only one pair of trousers, while only five of those who were a few beat slower would arrive before the deadline.

As soon as 15 seconds passed, the wolf-like instructor immediately rushed into the barracks. Then, whips and the screams of the youths rang out from inside. The four youths who hadn't even had time to run out of the barracks were each given five lashes. The instructor was merciless, lashing them to the point that they were drenched in blood. Then, he chased them out of the barracks.

Looking at the four youths who were bleeding all over their bodies, the hearts of the others trembled. "This is the first time they've made a mistake," Ron said calmly. "I'll give each of them five lashes as a reminder. Their numbered instructor will note that if they do it again, the punishment will be doubled. And so on until they don't make a mistake again. Or maybe they'll become a dead man."

"Alright, all of you, run, you little brats. Run around the playground until I stop you, understand?"

"Understood!"

The youths answered in unison.


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