As soon as Lu Yan entered the trade market, he finally felt the long-lost prosperity.
The blinding neon signs on both sides of the street and the bizarre crowd were completely different from the lifeless Seventy-first Cave.
The Seventy-first Cave might have been prosperous during the glorious days of the underground pharmaceutical factory, but now it’s nothing more than an abandoned slum for refugees, with only Quentin barely reaching the level of a Spiritual Ability User, utterly incomparable with here.
Just by walking down the street, Lu Yan saw more than a dozen Mutants no less powerful than Quentin, among whom even two seemed to have undergone cybernetic modifications and were suspected to be true Spiritual Ability Users.
As Lu Yan was observing the complex crowd, a building immediately caught his attention.
This was a finely decorated club, with more than a dozen scantily clad beautiful women standing around the neon signs, winking at the people on the street, and from pipes extending outwards from the floors, occasionally spewing strange pink gas.
Lu Yan noticed that after many people inhaled the pink gas, they rushed into the club with red eyes.
"Spraying aphrodisiac on the streets?"
Having seen bizarre cyber versions of operations, Lu Yan was somewhat unsurprised by this, even thinking this small trick seemed a bit unimaginative.
But Quentin, upon seeing the club, showed an expression of amazement.
"I didn’t expect that in five months, the variety of the Spring Tide Club would have upgraded to one hundred seventy-two kinds. This might be the biggest club in the Lower City District, right?"
"What one hundred seventy-two kinds?"
Lu Yan asked in confusion.
Quentin pointed to the huge neon sign in front of the club and said:
"Look closely, there are one hundred seventy-two symbols on the sign, each representing one of the one hundred seventy-two genders recognized by the Universal Giant Corporation.
Being able to keep these symbols on the sign proves that the club can accommodate guests of these one hundred seventy-two genders, which, to some extent, indicates the progress of civilization."
Lu Yan’s mind blanked for a moment, and he couldn’t help but ask:
"One hundred seventy-two genders? Where do so many genders come from?"
As soon as he said this, many passersby around cast disdainful glances, but due to Quentin’s formidable arms, no one dared to speak directly.
Quentin counted off on his fingers:
"Men, women, man-maidens, semi-cyborgs, people with partial mutant traits, females transitioning to males who consider themselves physiologically female...
These are just the genders this store can accommodate; the actual situation is that there are far more than one hundred seventy-two genders in major cities."
Such an absurd operation made Lu Yan think of the United States in the urban version, and he couldn’t help but sarcastically comment:
"Are there armed helicopter genders among these?"
Quentin responded upon hearing this: "Of course, and you even know the person."
"Lu Luo registered as the armed helicopter gender at the age of seven; for a long time, she believed she could fly by swinging her twin ponytails and even asked me several times if I could transform them into propellers."
Lu Yan was already a bit too tired to make any remarks about this abnormal world and could only wave his hand to end the topic.
"Let’s put aside the gender topic for now; let’s go to the Life and Death Arena to promote our merchandise first."
The two sped up their pace, and soon a colossal enclosed stadium-like building appeared before them.
After paying a 300 credit entrance fee, they quickly entered the Gladiatorial Arena, and the deafening noise rang in Lu Yan’s ears.
In the center of the arena was the stage, and all around the stands, gamblers with bloodshot eyes waved their betting slips, loudly cheering for the gladiators on stage.
Not far away, a young man in a suit, with a smile on his face, greeted them proactively, his demeanor impeccable, saying:
"Are you Mr. Quentin?"
Quentin nodded arrogantly: "I’m here to discuss a transaction with Shaq; I had an appointment beforehand."
"Boss Shaq is meeting an esteemed guest but instructed me to prepare the VIP box for Mr. Quentin in advance; please follow me to the box."
Crossing over the spectators in the stands, Lu Yan was led into a box room.
The surrounding glass in the box was one-way transparent, allowing a full view of the events inside the arena.
Just as Lu Yan settled into his seat, he heard the introduction from the host on stage.
"Next up is the Hormone Green Demon Fiend!"
Instantly, the roaring chants echoed throughout the arena.
"And his opponent, the newcomer king with fifteen consecutive victories, the Steroid Warrior!"
Moments later, two behemoths stepped into the center of the ring.
Both stood an exaggerated two and a half meters tall, with towering muscular builds, their bodies lean as if devoid of any fat.
A large number of spiritual tattoos covered every inch of their skin, shimmering with a bluish glow, resembling oversized Blue Elves.
With Lu Yan’s discerning eye, it was obvious that the two had injected a substantial amount of low-quality spiritual energy potion, leading to physical mutations.
The spiritual tattoos on their bodies seemed numerous, but utterly chaotic, clearly not the work of a legitimate compiler, merely impressive at first glance.
Even if Quentin were to enter the arena, he could knock these two pretenders down with a single punch.
As the referee gave the order, the two small giant gladiators began to move.
With extraordinary agility, they rushed to the edge of the stage, grabbed the pre-prepared syringes beyond the arena, and began injecting themselves one after another.
This scene left Lu Yan momentarily stunned.
The syringes, sparkling with a hint of blue light, entered the gladiators’ bodies, and their already muscular physiques swelled rapidly, like balloons being inflated.
One syringe, two syringes, three syringes... Seventeen syringes, both sides seemed to have started an arms race.
You inject one, I inject two. If you inject ten doses, I’ll go straight for eleven.
With each syringe injected, Lu Yan could clearly see the raging industrial-grade spiritual energy partially integrating into the body, but more of it began to corrode the flesh, leaving a series of festering wounds.
The faces of the two gladiators turned a deep purple-red, yet they continued to grit their teeth and inject, as the audience seemed exhilarated, cheering them on.
"Another injection, another injection!"
"Go Steroid Warrior! Your tolerance is unparalleled!"
Even Quentin seemed infected by the excitement, clenched his fists tightly, staring at the two gladiators without blinking.
"Is this considered a life and death duel?"
Lu Yan finally couldn’t help but ask his question.
Quentin, however, solemnly nodded:
"This is indeed a part of the life and death duel."
"Honestly, I haven’t been to the arena in a while, but I didn’t expect to witness such a thrilling death contest today, making the trip worthwhile."
Lu Yan couldn’t help but retort, "Where on earth is this exciting?"
Quentin sighed in disappointment, as if Lu Yan just didn’t appreciate the artistry:
"They’re injecting low-quality spiritual energy injections, with a lot of aggressive industrial-grade spiritual energy inflicting substantial harm on their bodies.
But for every loss, there is a gain. While causing damage, some of the spiritual energy enhances themselves, granting a temporary all-round boost.
This means with each injection, they gain a portion of strength and increase their odds of victory."
"When the duel began, both sides chose to inject simultaneously, indicating they realized the power parity and saw the necessity to turn to low-quality spiritual energy injections for victory.
As long as one can inject more than the other, getting stronger and enhancing the odds of triumph, it sets the stage for the ensuing combat.
This is an ultimate showdown, a test not just of their drug tolerance, but of understanding their limits.
Solely pursuing the number of injections without regard to one’s limits can backfire and lower one’s strength.
Once the injection race starts, there are only two outcomes: both simultaneously reaching their limits and engaging in a fierce life-and-death battle.
The other possibility...
Before Quentin could finish his sentence, the Steroid Warrior’s body trembled, dropping the low-quality spiritual energy syringe to the ground.
Blood began to seep from his orifices, then gushed out uncontrollably.
Lu Yan could clearly see that the industrial-grade spiritual energy had already eroded most of his organs, and the tall figure crashed heavily to the ground.
"Forty-three injections! If he’d managed just two more, the downfall might’ve been the Hormone Green Demon, but alas, the young are often too eager for quick success.
A life and death duel is just as such—a single misstep could lead to irreversible ruin!"
Quentin remarked, his words echoing as the referee announced the purplish-red faced Hormone Green Demon as the ultimate victor.
While the Steroid Warrior, who died bleeding from his orifices, was placed onto a large stretcher and swiftly carried out of the arena.
Witnessing this, Lu Yan’s expression slightly softened, praising:
"This arena is quite humane, at least they know how to rescue the gladiators, but can they save someone who’s already dead?"
Quentin followed Lu Yan’s gaze, glanced, and explained:
"The Steroid Warrior lasted for forty-three injections before bleeding from the orifices and dying suddenly; his drug tolerance could be considered exceptional.
Removing the body is likely not for rescue, but to sell it to a corpse factory before the spiritual energy completely dissipates; with forty-three doses of low-quality spiritual energy injection accumulated, it should fetch a good price!"