Jason slowly raised his arm.

Seeing this, the leader assumed the meat in front of him was about to surrender. He pointed his gun and commanded, "Raise the other hand, too."

"Hmph!"

Jason’s face remained cold. An energy ball coalesced in his right hand and then shot out like a streak of light.

BOOM!

A mountain of trash dozens of meters high was blown sky-high. Debris rained down through the air as thick smoke billowed upward.

"!!!"

The group of natives was frozen in place, their eyes bulging with shock. A moment later, they began babbling in their bird-language, falling to their knees and kowtowing to Jason: "@#￥%&*!"

Jason leveled his palm at the leader. "Now, are you ready to answer my questions?"

Without a second of hesitation, the leader threw his weapon aside and collapsed to the ground.

"Th—this is Sakaar!"

"Keep going," Jason said. "Tell me everything you know."

The leader panted nervously, his voice trembling as he spoke. "Sakaar is surrounded by cosmic portals. It is the boundary between the known and unknown universe. It’s a gathering place for the people and things the universe has forgotten and abandoned."

Forgotten. Abandoned.

Heh, that fits me perfectly, Jason thought with a touch of self-mockery.

"Who rules Sakaar?"

"The ruler is known as the Grandmaster. He was the first person to drift to Sakaar, and he built the world we see today. He is the king here. Everyone who comes to Sakaar automatically becomes his slave."

Slaves?

Heh, it seemed he didn’t need to ask about the social structure—a typical feudal system with the Grandmaster as the Emperor.

Jason asked a few more basic questions, and the scavenger leader provided the answers. Gradually, the image of this planet filled out in Jason’s mind.

Sakaar was known as a place of exile. Most people here were like Jason—sinners driven from their homes. Only a small minority were travelers or shipwreck victims who ended up here by mistake. But no matter who you were or how much honor you once held, once you landed on Sakaar, you were the Grandmaster’s property.

The Grandmaster was described as cruel and capricious. He controlled an army of ten thousand, possessed high-level technology capable of interstellar warfare, and was himself a powerhouse of unfathomable strength. Rumor had it he had lived for tens of millions of years and had personally suppressed rebellions on the planet.

This was all public knowledge; anything more classified was beyond the reach of a mere scavenger leader.

After answering everything, the leader bowed his head and pleaded, "That is all I know. Please, let us go."

Jason had long lost interest in slaughtering the weak; nowadays, he only enjoyed duels with the strong. He lowered his arm and waved them off. "Leave the helmet and get lost."

The leader stood up excitedly. He tapped his ear twice, and the helmet rapidly retracted, shrinking until it looked like a small, invisible earpiece.

That’s...

Jason’s eyes lit up. The helmet could shrink and be worn directly on the ear. Alien tech was truly impressive; he had no idea how the physics worked. The leader respectfully placed the earpiece on the ground and led his lackeys away.

Jason picked up the device, put it on, and tapped it twice just as the leader had.

"Hmm... why isn’t it working?"

He tried several more times, but still nothing. Jason looked exasperated. "Dammit. I forgot to ask for the manual."

"Hey! Who are you?"

That voice... English again!

Jason turned around in surprise. A young woman was sitting atop a pile of trash. She was decent-looking, with white markings painted on her face, slightly tanned skin, and very defined muscle tone. What caught Jason’s attention most was that she wasn’t wearing a helmet.

Could it really be a fellow Earthling?

Jason asked, "From Earth?"

The woman held up a bottle and took a bold, heavy swig of booze. She shook her head. "Nope!"

Not from Earth, yet she spoke English. Comic logic.

The woman leaped down from the trash mountain, expertly absorbing the impact of the landing and coming to a smooth stop. Her posture was perfect, with no wasted motion—a master combatant. Jason, with his sharp eye for violence, gave her a high rating.

Carrying her bottle, she walked over with a slight swagger, pointing toward the crater where the trash mountain used to be. "I saw that from my ship. Blowing up a trash mountain like it was nothing... you’re not exactly ordinary, are you?"

Jason’s expression was casual. It was easy for him.

The woman leaned in closer, studying him. Jason caught a sharp, pungent whiff of alcohol. Did this girl grow up in a vat of liquor?

"Are you lost? Or were you exiled for causing trouble?"

Jason’s brow furrowed slightly. "Exiled."

She nodded and took another swig. "Let’s get acquainted. I’m Scavenger 142. You?"

"Jason Walter."

"Real name?"

"Yeah."

She laughed noncommittally. "People who come here never leave. Whether it’s a real name or an alias doesn’t really matter."

Never leave? Why?

"Is something wrong with this planet?"

She shook her head. "Partly. But mostly... forget it, I don’t feel like answering that. Just take my word for it."

Jason narrowed his eyes, wondering if her brain had been pickled by the alcohol.

"You’ve got decent moves," She said. "It’d be a waste for you to be a common slave. Want to work with me?"

Jason was amused. "Work with you? Doing what?"

She pointed toward the horizon. "There’s a city not far from here. It’s called the City of Gambling. The Grandmaster runs thousands of different games there, but the most popular is the Arena! You know what an arena is, right? A place where two people fight to the death."

Jason nodded.

"There are matches every day. If you lose, that’s life. If you win, the prize money is huge. I’ll set you up for matches, and we’ll split the winnings 40/60. How’s that sound?"

Looking at your face... I don’t even have to ask. I get 40, you get 60.

Jason was curious. "I’m the one risking my life in the arena. If I lose, I die; if I win, you take sixty percent. So, what exactly do you provide?"

The woman said confidently, "I can guarantee your freedom!" 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

"Based on what?"

"Based on the fact that I have a very close relationship with the Grandmaster."

Jason rolled his eyes. This scam felt a little low-effort. "You expect me to believe that just because you said it?"

She finished the rest of her drink in one gulp, tossed the bottle aside, and clapped her hands. "True or false, you’ll know if you come with me. That is, if you have the guts."

"Lead the way."

The woman helped him calibrate the earpiece-helmet, and they began walking toward her ship. Along the way, Jason asked about her daily life. She said her job consisted of drinking and gambling. When she ran out of money, she took jobs from the Grandmaster to earn commissions. It was quite the carefree life.

Jason smiled but offered no comment. He had no desire for such a wait-around-to-die existence.

As they spoke, they boarded the ship. It was spacious—twice the size of a Quinjet—and served as both her transport and her home. On either side were small-caliber repeating laser cannons, each shot capable of turning a person into mincemeat. They were clearly the tools of her trade.

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You can read advance Chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.

pat reon.com/GreenBlue17

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