"As the ruler of a nation, you actually went to fight in gladiatorial combat!"

Sitting in the research institute's cafeteria in the Soul Space, Rachel downed her draft beer in one gulp, her face flushed, and complained loudly to Todd, "I already objected to the plan to rescue Boyle! And now, you're going to impersonate him and go to the gladiatorial arena?!"

Todd explained with a wry smile, "Boyle's identity is too important... His prestige is unparalleled among the hundreds of barbarian tribes. If we can seize this power, the Kingdom of Muxi can..."

"Even if he's important, can he be more important than the King of the Kingdom of Muxi?!" Pushing her beer mug aside, Rachel pulled a box of Häagen-Dazs ice cream from the bar's freezer, opened the lid, and said angrily, "You might defeat your opponent today, but what about tomorrow? The day after? Your enemies will only get stronger, and sooner or later your identity will be exposed!"

Todd touched the bridge of his nose and said, "I understand that things can get complicated if I wait too long, so I need your help."

“Help? I thought you could handle everything by yourself.” Rachel glanced at Todd, scooped up a piece of ice cream with a small spoon, put it in her mouth, and her eyes lit up: “This tastes pretty good. Can they make this in the Kingdom of Twilight?”

Picking up the lid and carefully looking at the ingredient list, Todd replied, "It might be difficult to make it exactly the same, but it's still possible to make it roughly the same."

Rachel scooped up another piece and put it in her mouth, nodding and saying, "That's good. This can serve as the signature dish for 'Sisters Hotel,' which will make up for the lack of dessert... Wait, what was I going to say? What do you need my help with?"

"I want to learn the northern dialect."

Rachel rolled her eyes at Todd: "Are you planning to live in the 'Red Circle' forever?"

The latter did not deny it: "I need to be able to communicate with other people in the 'Red Circle,' and the language barrier is the biggest problem."

Rachel didn't reply, finishing her ice cream bite by bite. She put down her spoon and looked at Todd, saying, "I know you want to save Boyle's people, and I know you want to find out Aisha's whereabouts. But have you considered this: now that you have Boyle's identity, his people are of no value to you. Leaving here as soon as possible is the most important thing. As for Aisha, a pirate with no reputation and no guarantee of loyalty, I believe many people can replace her..."

Before she could finish speaking, seeing the helpless expression on Todd's face, Rachel closed her eyes and sighed: "You're trying to say you can't do it, aren't you?"

"Why take on responsibilities that aren't yours?" Rachel opened her eyes, looking at the man in front of her with tenderness in her eyes: "It's like climbing a mountain. There are clearly more convenient and easier paths, so why do you insist on choosing the most arduous route?"

Todd shook his head slightly: "Take climbing a mountain as an example, for instance. Some people only have eyes for the summit when they are climbing. They value 'I have conquered this mountain' more. But others care about the scenery along the way and the meaning of the journey. They want 'I have possessed this mountain' more."

Gently tapping the rim of the paper cup with a small spoon, Rachel leaned on the table, looked at Todd, and said, "Does the process matter?"

Todd laughed: "Does the result matter?"

Looking at the woman's long, flowing hair spread across the table, Todd's face showed a look of reminiscence: "Human beings only understand one thing after experiencing death: the meaning of life has little to do with the material possessions and power you have. The key is whether you've lived a fulfilling life, whether you've seen the most beautiful sights..."

Rachel asked, puzzled, "Is this philosophy?"

Todd shook his head and smiled as he said, "It's an experience."

——————————————————

The management office is located on the ground floor of the "Red Circle" arena.

The arena manager sat at his desk and asked his subordinates, "Who is that traitor's next opponent?"

The latter quickly replied, "The Hunter Ackerman, he is skilled with bows and arrows and throwing knives, and his running speed is unmatched."

"Foolish!" the supervisor yelled at his subordinate. "Even 'The Skinner,' who won nineteen battles, was defeated by that guy. What can this idiot who only knows how to use a bow and arrow do?!"

The subordinate said with difficulty, "Boss, the schedules of all the slightly more powerful gladiators are fully booked lately, and we really can't make any more arrangements."

The supervisor snatched the list from the other party, looked at the names on it, thought for a moment, and then picked up a pen to outline the selected names one by one.

Seeing this, the subordinate asked in confusion, "What are you doing...?"

After reviewing the selected names again, the supervisor nodded in satisfaction and handed the roster back to his subordinate: "Find all these people and have them face Boyle the day after tomorrow!"

Taking the list and glancing at it, the astonished subordinate said in a trembling voice, "Boss, are you sure you're not mistaken? You selected ten people in total! There are shield guards, archers, spearmen, and an assassin!"

The supervisor put his feet up on the table, looked up at the ceiling, and muttered to himself, "If one person can't defeat him, what about a group of people?"

The subordinate looked at the list again and asked once more, "Boss, according to the rules of the arena, even if it's a case of more against fewer, it should at most be two against one, or three against one. Ten against one, isn't that a bit too much..."

The supervisor glared fiercely at his subordinate and roared, "Do you know who that Boyle is?! As long as he's alive, the Red Circle will never have peace! In short, he must die in the next gladiatorial match!"

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