24 — 3 (4)

Prisoner No. 331 should have died that day.

He was too hungry and could not resist stealing bread. And that bread became the problem. Who could have known that a small loaf would escalate into murder?

Two men had chased him, and he fought back with a club lying nearby.

If caught, he would be beaten to death anyway. His pursuers were two grown men and a guard.

Anyone could see that three adults would beat a starving vagrant into pulp, but Prisoner No. 331 killed all three that day.

He became a murderer, fled briefly, and was then captured and dragged to hell without any trial.

The underground prison of Proia was called hell by its residents, because once taken inside, there was an 80% chance one would die there.

He survived by eating rats.

And when he was cornered to the point of death, he was brought outside. The moment he saw light again, tears streamed down his face, and he was so overcome that even faith sprouted within him—but only for a moment, for a hood was placed over him.

Prisoner.

The wardens did not even tell No. 331 that his execution would soon be carried out.

But everyone knew from overhearing the soldiers’ chatter.

‘O, God.’

Hadn’t it been said that even those without faith would find it in such moments? For the first time in his life, he prayed. And when he was tied to the wooden pillar, he wept.

He found it unbearably unjust that his life would end like this. He wanted to live—that was why he had stolen the bread.

If there truly was a god who granted him more time, he resolved never to waste even a single minute.

He had been a gambler. His family had not been poor originally; they had owned a small fruit shop. But the house was reduced to dust. Prisoner No. 331 gambled until his parents died, and by the time they were gone, it was already too late.

No matter how wretched a man might be, his attachment to life was just as desperate.

Then came the sound of hooves, and when a youthful voice—one that did not even sound of age—reached his ears, a change occurred.

The demons of hell pulled off his hood, and he saw the light once again.

And in that light… he saw Louis.

“What do you think, Louis? This man is the protagonist of the first opening.”

Louis looked at the man standing before him. He too had seen him slaughter five men single-handedly. Indeed… there was talent.

Louis quickly opened the man’s information window. And he was astonished.

‘What is this? His Respect is at max?’

Normally it should have been expressed as a number, but here the number itself was gone. Even Boromir, who had been with him from almost the start, had never exceeded 5. For Louis, it was a strange phenomenon. When he changed the display into shapes, it appeared completely filled.

Then, when he checked the latent stats, Louis was surprised a second time.

‘Swordsmanship talent… 7.’

It was insane. A mad number. Among the hundreds of young men he had gathered, not one had administrative talent of 6.

There had been only a single one with 5. Yet this man was not 6, but 7.

What kind of growth was possible with 7?

Louis immediately thought of Dekal.

Dekal’s stats were no longer displayed because he had already developed, but his swordsmanship was at the level of Sword Expert.

Of course, if Louis wanted more detailed information, he could unlock further traits in the Civilization System.

‘A pity….’

Even without holding a sword properly, Louis knew how crucial age was in swordsmanship.

Sword Expert was not merely about wielding a blade well—it was a realm requiring the use of mana.

Even so, it was astonishing.

“What’s your name?”

“Prisoner No. 339. My original name was forbidden.”

Louis learned something new. Once one became a death-row convict, one lost one’s name. With a glance, Kalbang began to explain. Even Louis could not know everything. He was interested in the convicts, but they had their own world.

“You are no longer a prisoner. You are a gladiator. Gladiator—speak your name.”

“Kaiser. It is an immeasurable honor to speak my humble name before the Consul.”

Kalbang smiled with satisfaction as he watched Kaiser address Louis without error. He thought it proof that his training had worked. In truth, it was thanks to Respect being at its maximum—no training was necessary.

As Louis continued to scan his information, he noticed an unusual skill at the very bottom of the window.

Gambler.

He suddenly understood why a man with such talent had become a death-row convict.

“Kaiser.”

“Yes.”

“You like gambling, don’t you? Is gambling why you became a death-row convict?”

Kaiser’s eyes trembled.

“My lord, he is a murderer. He killed three, including a soldier.”

“And what about gambling records?”

“Well… aren’t all paupers like that? If you wish, I can dispatch soldiers to investigate.”

Kaiser spoke up.

“I don’t know how you found out, but as you said, Consul, I was obsessed with gambling. Not anymore. Please believe me.”

Honest. As expected, with Respect maxed out, even a little questioning drew out the truth.

Louis liked him very much.

Then a good idea struck him.

‘Shall I invest in this man?’

Louis’s thought was to make Kaiser a star. To turn Kaiser into the champion of the Colosseum. It would ignite the Colosseum’s popularity.

“Is there anything you lack?”

A survivor of the Colosseum had to be given rewards publicly. The best way to maximize the effect was to show the rewards he received before the eyes of the other prisoners.

So Louis had a special chamber built next to the gladiator prison where anyone could see, and transferred the winners there.

That place was stocked with food and women. It was meant to inflame the desires of the would-be gladiators.

“It is all too excessive—there is nothing I lack.”

Louis added a faint, forced smile to his poker face.

“No. You lack a great deal. Kalbang.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You must train this man in secret.”

“…What?”

“Make Kaiser the Colosseum’s star. Increase his food as well. But keep it secret.”

“Understood.”

“And one more thing.”

“………”

“A rumor must be spread… about the barbarians and Kaiser. What do you think?”

Only then did Kalbang understand Louis’s intention, and he smiled.

“That would indeed be amusing.”