Rey was smiling.
It was a sincere, almost pleasant smile.
His action shocked the crowd.
They could see his opponent closing in on him, yet he wasn't making an attempt to flee.
Had he suddenly given up?
Did he see no point in struggling any longer and simply forfeited the match?
No one would blame him for doing so, since his opponent—The Iron Giant—was ranked Number 5 in the Coliseum.
He was an absolute tank; a juggernaut that could not be defeated by ordinary means.
Rey, on the other hand, usually relied on ordinary abilities but utilized special tricks to come out on top.
His powers were neither flashy nor destructive.
There was very little way for him to breach the Iron Giant's defenses and take him out for good.
The slave probably realized that and gave up.
So…
… Was this the end?
"No! Fight back!"
"I placed my bet on you this time!"
"At least win the first round! Come on, you bastard!"
