The big-bearded man studied Shen Mo for a moment, then slowly sat up, ran a hand through his disheveled brown curls, and said vaguely:

“I have no idea what you’re talking about… I’m lying here just because I want to wait until everyone’s exhausted before going up. Going up now would just be handing people free points.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but it was deep and resonant, carrying a sharp sting of alcohol.

Su Man wrinkled her nose at the smell — and at the body odor that seemed to suggest he hadn’t bathed in several months.

“So you want to wait until everyone’s worn out…” Shen Mo smiled faintly. “There are 30 players in total. Some will get tired, yes, but others will rest and recover. You’ll never be able to wait until everyone is exhausted. And don’t forget — there’s no water or food here. The longer this drags on, the worse it gets for us, and the greater the chance someone else will claim the Battle King throne first.”

The big-bearded man frowned. “What a hassle… Fine, you talk then. What should we do? I’m telling you upfront — I don’t do losing deals. Don’t waste your breath.”

“Simple.” Shen Mo said. “When I’m on the stage, you don’t go up. When you’re on the stage, I don’t go up.”

The big-bearded man was taken aback, then slowly narrowed his eyes, studying Shen Mo with amusement.

Shen Mo continued: “Defeating someone is not the hard part. The hard part is staying on that platform continuously. High scores come with high risks — once you’re knocked down, everything you’ve built is gone. In this game, the most dangerous window is when your score accumulates to 29. At that point, in order to prevent their spot from being snatched and to claim those 10 points, all manner of wolves and tigers might emerge.”

The big-bearded man laughed at that. “Modest of you. From what I saw, you handled yourself just fine — beating Jefferson and racking up this many points. Even if you fought ten more rounds, you’d probably still be fine, right?”

Shen Mo considered it, then gave a mild nod. “Yes.”

The big-bearded man: “……”

Kid, could you at least pretend to be humble?

“However…” Shen Mo’s tone shifted as he continued: “When I reach 29 points, I’d rather not see you standing on that stage.”

That sentence pleased the big-bearded man. His mood lifted considerably, and he regarded Shen Mo with more approval.

“I understand. You’re afraid you won’t be able to beat me at that point.” The big-bearded man raised his beard smugly.

Shen Mo didn’t answer directly. He glanced toward the stage and said evenly: “Although there are 30 players, in truth only two or three of them can be considered real rivals. As long as those few don’t make their move, reaching a passing score should be easy enough.”

“And if they do make their move?” the big-bearded man asked, narrowing his eyes.

Shen Mo replied calmly: “There are five winning spots.”

With five spots available, why fight to the death in a clash of egos? Joining forces is far better than two powerhouses tearing each other apart only to let a band of small fry pick up the scraps.

“I’d imagine you wouldn’t want to see me on that stage when you reach 29 points, either.” Shen Mo met his eyes steadily.

The big-bearded man burst out laughing. “You’ve seen right through me.”

His laughter was too hearty and booming, drawing plenty of looks from the rows ahead.

The big-bearded man didn’t care in the slightest. Laughing, he said to Shen Mo: “But have you considered — even if you don’t come up, others will? Don’t think that because you handled things easily just now, the other players here only know basic moves. The reason it looked easy is because the scores were low and no one was going all out. Once the scores climb higher, continuously winning thirty rounds straight becomes outright impossible.”

“That’s exactly why cooperation is necessary.” Shen Mo said. “Whenever my score reaches 19 or 29, my companions will go up and transfer some points away from me, giving you a chance to rest in the meantime. Whenever you’ve recovered, you can go back on stage.”

—