Novel Full Chapter 615: Baited Fish
Chapter 615: Baited Fish
The noise of the arena did not fade even after they stepped out of the main battleground, because the moment they exited through the massive gate, the echoes of the crowd still chased after them like a living thing, filled with rage, disbelief, and a strange kind of awe that refused to settle.
People were shouting, arguing, even laughing in frustration as betting counters updated wildly, and the name of their team had already started spreading across the lower floors like wildfire, carried through word of mouth faster than any official announcement could manage.
Almond walked at the front without slowing, his posture relaxed and steady, as if nothing significant had happened, while the others followed behind him in the same casual rhythm, their expressions composed despite the chaos they had just created.
Natalia stretched her arms above her head and let out a satisfied breath, her grin still present as she glanced back once toward the roaring crowd, clearly enjoying the aftermath more than the fight itself.
“Yeah,” she said, almost lazily, “that landed better than expected.”
Ainen chuckled softly, his hands tucked into his pockets as he walked alongside them, his eyes scanning the surroundings with quiet interest rather than caution, as if the entire place had already become a playground in his mind.
“Better?” he replied. “We just robbed half the city blind.”
Saffa laughed under her breath, shaking her head slightly as she rolled her shoulders, still carrying that loose, confident energy that never seemed to drop, no matter what kind of battlefield she stepped out from.
“Not half,” she said. “More like seventy percent.”
“I think people from cities and other floors also bet on us since we were seemingly predictable, except we were not.” Clovelle chuckled.
Gopu tilted his head slightly. “So… we broke the system?”
“Temporarily,” Clovelle replied.
Lily smiled quietly beside Almond, her gaze soft but sharp at the same time, as if she could already see the invisible threads beginning to move across the city.
“I don’t see us failing this. The fish must have taken the bait.” She said.
Almond nodded.
“Definitly.”
They had just stepped into one of the wider corridors leading away from the arena when it happened.
The flow of people around them shifted.
Not stopped.
But shifted.
A subtle clearing formed ahead of them, as if something was moving through the crowd with enough presence that people instinctively stepped aside without even realizing why.
Then he appeared.
A tall figure, easily over two meters, his body built like a war machine, layered with dense muscle and reinforced armor that gleamed faintly under the arena lights. His skin carried a deep bluish tone, but what stood out the most was his head.
An octopus.
Thick, coiling tendrils moved slowly from his face, each one lined with faint glowing patterns that pulsed with controlled energy, while his eyes remained sharp and focused, studying Almond and the group with unsettling calm.
The crowd around him kept its distance.
Not out of fear alone.
Out of recognition.
A Tier-13.
He stopped a few meters in front of them, his presence heavy but not oppressive, like someone who knew exactly how much power to show and how much to hold back.
Almond and others sized him up, just like him.
For Almond and others, this was the first encounter with a Tier-13 being.
And they concluded that they didn’t need to fear him.
“Well now,” the alien said, his voice smooth, layered with a faint echo as if multiple tones overlapped within it, “that was… entertaining.”
No one replied immediately.
Almond simply looked at him.
The silence stretched for a brief moment.
Then the octopus-headed man smiled slightly, one of his tendrils curling upward in what almost looked like amusement.
“I like people who understand how to put on a show,” he continued. “Especially when that show makes a lot of people very, very unhappy.”
Natalia snorted softly.
“Then you must be having a great day.”
The man’s eyes shifted to her for a second, then back to Almond.
“I am,” he said. “Which is why I’m here.”
He lifted one hand slightly, and the space beside him distorted faintly before stabilizing, revealing a sleek, floating device that resembled a layered metallic card, glowing with embedded runic patterns.
“An invitation,” he said.
“To a place where people like you don’t have to walk through crowded halls after making this kind of impact.”
Ainen glanced at it, then at Almond.
“Fancy.”
Clovelle’s eyes narrowed slightly, analyzing the energy signatures around the device.
“Spatial relay access,” she murmured. “Private channel.”
Lily leaned slightly closer to Almond, her voice soft but clear.
“Don’t let go of this opportunity. You lot will go higher if you stay obedient until you are ready to ascend.” The alien threw free advice.
Almond did not look away from the man as he asked. “Who’s ’they’?”
The octopus-headed man smiled again.
“You’ll see.”
There was no pressure in his voice.
No threat.
But there was certainty.
The kind that came from knowing exactly what position he stood in.
Almond watched him for another second.
Then he reached out.
Took the invitation.
“Lead the way.”
The transition was instant.
The moment the device activated, the space around them folded smoothly, and the chaotic noise of the arena vanished completely, replaced by something quieter, controlled, and far more refined.
They appeared inside a vast interior space.
A club.
But not the kind that the lower floors would ever see.
The floor beneath them was polished black crystal, reflecting soft ambient light that shifted subtly like a living surface. The walls were layered with translucent panels that displayed moving constellations, as if the entire place existed somewhere between reality and a constructed illusion.
Soft music played in the background, not loud, but precise, every note placed deliberately.
Tables were arranged across the space, each one occupied by figures that carried presence.
Not loud.
Not chaotic.
Powerful.
Controlled.
Natalia looked around and let out a low whistle.
Ainen grinned. ’Let’s hope the fish is big enough.’
The octopus-headed man gestured forward.
“This way.”
They followed him without hesitation.
Toward the center.
Where five figures were already waiting.
Seated.
Watching.
Each one carried a different aura.
Different presence.
But the similarity was clear.
Authority.
They were young.
Not by appearance alone, but by the way they carried themselves, sharp, confident, and slightly dangerous in that restrained way that only came from being raised at the top.
Crown Princes.
Of the five kingdoms.
One leaned back casually, a faint smirk on his face as he looked at the group. A fox beastfolk with white skin and red simple tattoos around his eyes and face.
“Well,” he said, his voice smooth, almost amused, “those are the Tier-6 slaves who just embarrassed half the arena.”
Another tapped his finger lightly against the table, his gaze focused more intensely. A bulky man with ice blue skin and elven ears.
“Not just embarrassed,” he corrected. “Disrupted.”
A third one spoke next, his tone calmer. He was seemingly a human except for one spiraling crystal horn coming from his forehead.
“And made themselves very interesting.”
The octopus-headed man stepped aside slightly.
“My lords,” he said, “your guests.”
Almond stepped forward.
Stopped at a comfortable distance.
Looked at all five of them without lowering his gaze.
Silence settled for a brief moment.
Then one of the princes leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. He had golden spiky hair and scaled skin.
“Let’s skip the unnecessary parts,” he said.
His eyes locked onto Almond.
“You’re not normal.”
A small pause.
Then a faint smile.
“And we don’t like wasting opportunities.”
The air shifted slightly.
Not with hostility.
But with intent.
“Work with us,” another prince said.
“Or…”
The first one finished the sentence casually.
“…become something we need to deal with. And trust, we know how to do that very well.”
’It looks like we got perfect morons that we can use to cause mayhem.’ Almond blinked as his thoughts relayed to others, who couldn’t help but agree silently.