Chapter 529

Screams, roars, and desperate acts unfolded as fighters fell one after another. The massive disk, half-covered in dark red patterns of blood snaking across its surface like crimson vines, resembled a brutal yet grandiose ritual. Finally, the fighters noticed a horrifying detail: as the intricate blood patterns filled the disk, the mechanism holding the key began to grind, revealing a faint crack.

“So, that’s how it works… Hahaha! I get it now!” A burly man laughed maniacally, his bloodshot eyes glaring at the others. Before he could finish, a blade plunged into his back, silencing him. His arrogant grin froze as he collapsed.

Blood continued to flow, covering two-thirds of the disk’s carvings. If the remaining survivors also fell, the mechanism would fully activate. The fighters grasped the grim reality: even if all died, they would remain trapped, paving the way for someone else to claim the key.

“Stop! Stop fighting!” the leader of one faction shouted, his voice cracking but finally halting the carnage. Pointing upward, his face contorted with rage, he bellowed, “What’s the point of killing each other? Don’t forget Pete Carrell is still up there, waiting for us to wipe ourselves out so he can take everything!”

Before their descent, Pete had been their target. This unforeseen trap revealed his meticulous plan—luring them into the crevice to slaughter each other and activate the mechanism, then sending someone down to claim the key effortlessly.

The leader glared upward and shouted, “You bastard! Your generosity in revealing the location was a ruse! Your plan is failing! I swear I’ll climb up there and kill you myself!”

Understanding the trap, the fighters temporarily set aside their schemes and agreed to a truce. “Let’s make a deal. Let’s climb out first. Then we’ll kill that guy and use his blood to activate the mechanism!”

“Agreed!”

“Damn it! I’ve never been played like this! That bastard is mine!”

The remaining fighters, hardened and ruthless, though injured, burned with hatred for Pete.

Above, Pete clearly heard their conversation. He leaned forward, watching them scramble, searching for handholds. One by one, like geckos, they clung to the walls, using their knives as anchors, slowly ascending. Their cooperation might succeed, but this, too, was within Pete’s expectations.

He smirked, signaling his subordinates. Without a word, they raised their guns and fired. A volley of gunshots filled the air.