“Are those crazed people behind me part of the same organization that you’re in?” San asked as he pointed his chin towards his rear.

“No, they’re people that I’ve killed. They’re all under my control. You can think of them as contracted slaves,” Beckham replied.

“Contracted slaves?” San asked. Beckham nodded his head as he listened to San’s question. His forces, who were behind San and Biyeon, started creeping forward. Their movements were drastically different from when they were confronting the merchant convoy’s escort warriors. They were moving together as if they were being controlled by a single person.

“That’s weird. You don’t even know this basic concept? You guys have never died ever since you were summoned to this place?” Beckham asked with slight surprise.

“Hmm, we were pushed to the brink of death many times, probably more times than you’ve died,” San answered flatly.

For the first time during their conversation, Beckham’s eyes grew wide with surprise. He couldn’t understand how they hadn’t died at least once. Beckham knew that San and Biyeon were a cut above people like him. Beckham strengthened his grip on his weapons and spoke out, “The loser of an official match becomes the contracted slave of the winner. The term of the contract...