The door shut with a heavy clang. The echo lingered in the chamber long after the Arena master's footsteps faded into nothingness.
Silence returned.
But it was not the silence of peace.
It was the silence of a predator between hunts.
Gu Kuangren sat motionless, still leaning back against the stone bench. His long black hair fell across his face in wild strands, streaked with drying blood. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the torchlight, watching the ceiling as though he could see past stone, past walls, into some faraway battlefield only he could imagine.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours. He didn't move.
Then, slowly, he raised his hand, still caked in Kael's blood.
He stared at it, fingers curling and uncurling, sticky warmth pulling at his skin. He brought it close, brushing the crimson smear against his cheek once more, inhaling.
A shudder went through him. Pleasure. Memory.
"Alive," he whispered, voice raw, deep. "Only in blood am I alive."
The words slipped into the air, half growl, half prayer.
High above, pressed against the cold stone, Zhu Zhuqing didn't breathe. She had seen men revel in victory before, but not like this. Not as if blood itself was the reward.
Her golden eyes narrowed.
He doesn't fight for pride. He doesn't fight for wealth. He doesn't even fight for survival.
She dug her claws into the stone until dust crumbled away.
He fights because he wants to. Because it makes him whole.
Kuangren lowered his hand at last. He let the blood drip onto the floor, leaving small, dark stains on the stone. His voice was quiet now, almost thoughtful, but it carried in the chamber.
"They want loyalty," he murmured. "Chains. Paths. Rules."
His crimson eyes gleamed, sharp as blades.
"But blood has no rules. Only hunger."
He tilted his head, listening to the sound of silence as though it answered him.
"Let them feed me more," he growled softly. "Let them bring every beast, every killer. I'll carve them down one by one… and when their bones pile high enough, maybe then I'll finally feel full."
The grin returned, slow and terrible.
From the shadows, Zhu Zhuqing's claws slipped slightly against stone. She pulled back, heart thundering. She should leave. She should leave. But she couldn't tear her eyes from him.
There was something both monstrous and magnetic about Gu Kuangren.
What are you chasing? she thought. And why does part of me want to follow you?
A single drop of blood fell from Kuangren's fingers, splattering against the stone floor.
He stared at it. Smiled.
And began to laugh again—low, ragged, echoing through the chamber like the whisper of madness.
The laughter rose, louder and louder, until it filled the space, bouncing off walls, chasing Zhu Zhuqing into the shadows of the corridor as she finally fled, heart racing.
His laughter followed her.