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Slave Arena
Chapter 3 - You mean the fights are rigged?

Chapter 3 - You mean the fights are rigged?

In the cold, unforgiving light of the room, Ethan, Mrs. Greene, and Alex huddled together. The reality of their situation was sinking in, and with it came a barrage of questions and fears.

Ethan, deep in thought, replayed Zelix's words in his mind. "How did he know I talked to Alex about the game?" he murmured.

Alex, rubbing his wrists where the restraints had been, looked up sharply. "Wait a minute. That's right. How did they know?"

Ethan's brow furrowed. "Were they stalking me? Or could it be that someone at school is involved?"

Alex shook his head. "I doubt it's a student. This game, this whole setup, it's too elaborate, too secretive. But what if when you downloaded the app, they got access to your phone? They could've been listening in the whole time."

Mrs. Greene, who had been listening intently, chimed in. "But the bigger question is, how is all of this staying under the radar? A game of this magnitude, involving kidnapping, slavery... it's monstrous. Why hasn't it been exposed?"

Ethan nodded in agreement. "Exactly. If there's real money involved, big bets, auctions... how come there's no news about it? No investigations?"

Alex leaned forward, his analytical mind working. "They must have some serious power and influence to keep this hidden. We're talking about a network that's not only technologically advanced but also deeply embedded in secrecy."

Ethan thought about the luxury and scale of the complex, the high-tech equipment, and the seeming normalcy with which players and staff treated the game. "They've built a whole world here, one that operates in the shadows. But who are they? And how far does their influence reach?"

Ethan checked the time on his watch, the minutes seemingly mocking their dire situation. "Guys, I'm sorry, but it's getting late. My family will start worrying. I need to go back and think this through, but I promise I’ll be back tomorrow with a plan."

Alex, a look of realization dawning on his face, sighed heavily. "Shit, wait. I can't just go back now, can I?" The reality of his new status as a 'slave' in this perverse game hit him.

Ethan nodded sympathetically. "I'll call your mom, tell her you're staying over for a school project or something."

"Thanks, man," Alex said, trying to mask his anxiety.

Turning to Mrs. Greene, Ethan's expression softened. "Do you have anyone you want me to contact? Anyone who might be worried about you?"

Mrs. Greene looked away for a moment, a trace of sadness in her eyes. "I have a daughter, but she's studying abroad. We haven't seen each other in a few years." Her voice trailed off, filled with a mix of regret and longing.

Ethan nodded understandingly. "I'll try to come up with something. A plan to get us out of here."

As he left the room, Ethan felt the weight of their hopes and fears resting on his shoulders. The outside world seemed surreal now, a stark contrast to the dark underbelly he had been thrust into. He walked through the streets, his mind racing with strategies and questions. How could he outsmart a game that was designed to be ruthless and unforgiving?

Back at home, Ethan's family noticed his troubled demeanor but attributed it to the usual stresses of high school life. In his room, Ethan lay awake, staring at the ceiling.

The morning light streamed through Ethan's window, casting a stark contrast to the darkness of his thoughts. He had spent the night tossing and turning, trying to formulate a plan. With each passing hour, his resolve had hardened. He had to be smart, strategic. This wasn't just a game; it was a battle for their lives.

After a quick breakfast, where he mechanically responded to his family's casual conversation, Ethan headed out. He dialed Alex's mom on the way, his voice steady as he fabricated the story about the school project. She sounded relieved and wished them luck, unaware of the grim reality her son was facing.

Ethan's mind was racing as he made his way back to the complex. He had to play the game, rise through the ranks, gain power and information. But how? He was a high school student, not a master strategist. And yet, the lives of Mrs. Greene and Alex depended on him.

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Upon his arrival, Ethan was immediately struck by the false sense of normalcy that the complex exuded. People were going about their business, engaging in transactions, training their slaves, enjoying the luxuries afforded by their twisted game. It was sickening.

He found Mrs. Greene and Alex in the same room where he had left them. Their faces lit up with a mix of hope and apprehension as he entered.

"Did you come up with anything?" Alex asked, his voice tinged with both hope and dread.

Ethan took a deep breath. "I have the beginning of a plan. We need to understand the rules of this game inside out. We need to know our enemies and allies. And most importantly, we need to start gaining points, fast."

Mrs. Greene nodded. "How do you propose we do that?"

Ethan's eyes were determined. "I'll start by participating in the challenges, maybe even the fighting arena. It's risky, but it's the fastest way to earn points. Meanwhile, I need you both to observe everything. Gather as much information as you can about the players, the guards, the layout of this place. Anything could be useful."

Alex's face hardened. "I'm with you, Ethan. Let's do this."

Mrs. Greene, though worried, gave a nod of approval. "Be careful, Ethan. This game... it's dangerous. Don't lose yourself in it."

Ethan gave them a reassuring smile, though his heart was heavy. "I won't. We're getting out of here. All of us."

Ethan turned to Alex, his expression grave. "You need to come with me to the arena. It's time to start playing this game."

Alex nodded, a determined look in his eyes. "Let's do it."

As they made their way through the complex, the sounds of the arena grew louder, a cacophony of cheers, shouts, and the unmistakable noise of combat. The air was thick with tension and anticipation.

Suddenly, a burly man bumped into Ethan, nearly knocking him to the ground. "Watch where you're fucking going, newbie," he sneered.

Ethan's temper flared. "Maybe you should open your eyes, asshole."

The man squared up to Ethan, his face contorted in anger. "You got a death wish, kid?"

Alex stepped forward, placing a hand on Ethan's shoulder. "Easy, Ethan. We can't afford to start fights here, not outside the arena."

The man laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Your little friend's right. Save it for the ring, if you've got the balls."

As the man walked away, Ethan took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "Sorry, Alex. I can't let these bastards get to me."

Alex gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "We need to stay focused. Remember why we're here."

They continued towards the arena, the sounds of violence growing ever louder. Ethan felt a knot of anxiety in his stomach. He was about to step into a world of brutality and bloodshed, a far cry from the safety of his high school life.

As they reached the entrance to the arena, Ethan looked back at Alex. "Stick close to me. We'll get through this together."

The roar of the crowd enveloped them as they stepped into the arena, a gladiator's den where the only rule was survival. Ethan's heart pounded in his chest.

As they tried to absorb the scene, a familiar voice interrupted their observations. Dante, the sharply dressed man they had encountered earlier, approached with a smirk. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Zelix's latest project. How's the game treating you, trash?"

Ethan clenched his fists, trying to keep his composure. "Better than expected, Dante. Thanks for asking."

Dante chuckled, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You've got some nerve. I like that. It'll make it all the more satisfying when you fall."

Despite Dante's antagonism, Ethan saw an opportunity. "You seem to know your way around here. How about you give us some pointers about the arena?"

Dante raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused. "Why should I help you?"

Ethan leaned in, his voice steady. "Because if I’m really trash as you say I am, then whatever I do I will lose either way. If you aren’t willing wont that make you look like you’re scared of me? Or maybe scared of my guide?"

Dante, laughed amused by the request, leaned back casually. "Fine, I'll indulge you. This arena isn't just about brute strength. There's an art to it. Each fighter here has a rank, based on their previous fights, their skills, and... let's say, their survival instincts."

He pointed to a fighter who was skillfully dodging and weaving through his opponent's attacks. "See him? He's a middle-ranker. Good with evasion, but not much on the offensive. Bet on him if you think he can outlast the other guy."

Ethan nodded, absorbing the information. "And what about the betting system?"

Dante grinned. "Ah, the bets. You can place bets on fighters, rounds, even specific moves. The odds change dynamically, so keep a sharp eye. And here's a little tip," his voice lowered, "the arena, like life, isn't always fair. A well-placed bribe can sway a judge, turn a blind eye to a foul move, or even 'arrange' for a certain fighter to win."

Alex looked horrified. "You mean the fights are rigged?"

Dante's laugh was devoid of humor. "Welcome to reality, kid. Everything's rigged to favor those who know how to play the game."

Ethan's mind raced, considering the implications. "So, with enough points or the right connections, you can manipulate the outcomes?"

"Exactly," Dante affirmed. "But remember, it's a risky game. Get caught, and you'll face severe consequences. And don't think for a second that just because you're playing, you're safe. In this arena, anyone can be a fighter, willing or not."

As Dante sauntered off, his parting words echoed in Ethan's mind. The arena was more than a test of physical strength; it was a microcosm of the entire game's twisted dynamics. Unfair, unyielding, and unforgiving.

Ethan turned to Alex, determination in his eyes. "We'll start by observing and betting. We need to understand how this works, inside and out. But we'll play it smart. We can't afford to draw too much attention."

Alex nodded, the weight of their situation clear in his expression. "Right. Let's do this strategically."