"Boom!"
In a realm of ice and snow, a powerfully built figure, bare-chested, threw a punch into the air.
The icy wind bit, and frost exploded outward, a cloud of white mist blooming like a flower.
"Hah!" Exhaling a long, drawn-out breath that trailed away in wisps of white, Wilder brought his fist back, his posture ramrod straight.
For two months, Wilder had endured a truly devilish training regimen in this frigid hellscape. He'd gone from needing a thick fur coat to being able to withstand the inhuman cold bare-chested, a testament to his intense exploration of Life Return.
His physique had undergone a qualitative leap in these two months. His muscles were honed and dense, like forged steel. The two broad pectorals on his chest were particularly striking; droplets of melted snow that landed on them were instantly vaporized into thin wisps of steam, a result of the high-speed circulation of blood within his body – a practical application of Life Return.
Wilder called it "Steaming Blood," a technique to manipulate the effects produced by controlling his blood flow.
Training in Life Return is often accompanied by a corresponding environment. For example, in the original story, Kumadori mastered control of his digestive system, and his training was spent in a state of constant hunger.
Similarly, to learn to resist the cold, one must be immersed in the cold, to feel the cold.
Cultivating Life Return is like becoming a hermit; whether it's in deep mountains, dense forests, or a world of ice and snow, the common thread is the need for quiet contemplation.
No matter how harsh the environment, one must maintain a heart of quiet enlightenment and diligent practice.
Two months was just enough time for Wilder to reach this stage.
Because of the freezing environment, Wilder hadn't neglected his physical training. In fact, he'd intensified it, pushing himself even harder. Combined with Life Return, his physique and martial arts skills had undergone a dramatic transformation.
After standing silently for a while, immersed in his inner world, Wilder opened his eyes. He looked towards the distant, white expanse. Claire's figure was emerging from it.
"First-sama, here are today's documents. Also…the office is piled high with files again. The Warden is pressing for them."
"I know." Wilder put on his shirt. The surge of qi and blood within him evaporated the snow on his clothes into delicate wisps of white smoke.
"Tell Magellan I'll be back tomorrow," he said in a low voice, turning and striding away.
"Yes, First-sama," Claire replied respectfully, watching Wilder leave.
Wilder returned to his temporary quarters in Level 5, a cramped interrogation room.
Everything was beginning to fall into place. All that was left was to continue… to continue growing stronger, and then… to wait for that day to arrive.
Sitting on a leather sofa, he held a glass filled with crimson wine, gazing at the fireplace in front of him.
Wilder never liked to half-fill his glass when drinking. He preferred everything full, just like his plans.
The flames danced in the fireplace, and like Wilder's thoughts, they leaped and flickered, drifting further and further away.
Progress in Level 5 was proceeding smoothly. After careful selection, he had recruited five individuals. Adding those to Vice, Claire, and the other two, he had the beginnings of a core team, even if… he'd used coercion and bribery to acquire them.
He took a sip of wine, the corner of his lips curling slightly upwards. The shadows hid his eyes, and his ambition bloomed silently.
He stood up and walked to the wall, placing his palm against it. Silently, the wall began to ripple, the surface twisting and distorting until a doorway-shaped swamp appeared.
Wilder stepped into the swamp-door. The ripples subsided, and the wall returned to its original appearance.
Reverting the swampified environment back to its original state was no longer a fantasy for Wilder.
Passing through the swamp-door, he entered a narrow passageway. Torches lined both sides, casting a dim, yellowish light.
At the end of the passage was a metal door. Wilder took out a key and, bending down, turned it.
"Creak!"
He pushed open the door. A grating, unpleasant sound echoed as a vast space was revealed.
The torchlight cast a faint yellow glow over the darkness, revealing a colosseum of unknown construction. Tiers of seats rose in steps, and in the center stood a massive iron cage. A strong smell of blood assaulted his nostrils.
Wilder stood at the entrance on the upper level, the dim light illuminating his face, a devilish smile spreading across it.
Below the steps, dozens of passages led to the cage. A large, basin-sized bell hung above the cage. The moment Wilder opened the door, the bell was also struck.
A cacophony of sounds, like a gathering of demons, erupted. One by one, figures emerged from the passages, each face bearing a bloodthirsty and cruel smile.
They looked up at Wilder on the platform, their gazes fierce.
"Nyehehehe…" Wilder chuckled darkly, meeting their gazes without flinching.
"Alright then… let's begin. The first match will be Page versus Krivat. The winner is free to leave. The loser dies. If it's a draw… nyehehehe… I'll kill them myself. Of course… you're welcome to resist." He finished, his eyes widening, his killing intent bursting forth.
An inmate wearing a prison uniform opened the iron cage. The two inmates Wilder had named, sneering, entered the cage. The other prisoners who had emerged from the passages climbed the steps and sat down, ready to enjoy a gladiatorial spectacle.
This was Wilder's method of selecting talent. There were no other criteria, only strength.
That's right, the entire massive colosseum space had been created by Wilder, including the incredibly hard walls. This colosseum was built to gather these prisoners and analyze their combat abilities by having them fight each other.
And for the prisoners of Level 5, this colosseum was like paradise. Death… was already a foregone conclusion. Those who came here were truly desperate, seeking excitement while also grasping at that slim chance of survival.
First's name already carried the greatest weight in Freezing Hell, and those who came here knew that if they could gain First's approval, then there was a chance… a chance to escape certain death.
"Nyehehehe… Is there something you need?" Wilder turned his head to look at a prisoner approaching him, a vein throbbing on his forehead.
Not only Wilder, but the prisoners below had also noticed the situation. They wore excited and malicious smiles.
Everyone knew that the area above belonged to First. The steps below were for the prisoners. Now, some fool was trying to challenge this unspoken authority. How could that not excite them?
Wilder wore a grim smile, looking at the ugly man with a scarred lip who was licking his lips as he approached. For a moment, he didn't speak, just staring at him with that rigid smile.
"You're First, right?" Finally, the scarred-lip prisoner reached Wilder, looking up at him and licking his lips bloodthirstily. He grinned, revealing disgusting yellow teeth, his eyes filled with savagery.
"You killed my subordinate, Giant Boar, didn't you…?" By the end of his sentence, his face was contorted into a bestial snarl. Three months ago, Giant Boar had rioted again and been killed by Wilder. The news had already caused a stir in Level 4, so it was no surprise that someone in Level 5 would know.
"Nyehehehe… I did kill him. So? Is that your reason for stepping up here?"
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