133 Brother Gao was furious.

After shooing away the Collector, the Grandmaster felt even more unsettled than before.

Starting with Ronan the Accuser, one prominent figure after another had been flocking here, generating a level of buzz that rivaled his own Championship Games—no, that wasn't right. Even for the Championship Games, at most one or two such people would show up, if any at all. After all, most high-profile individuals were busy; only those with too much time and money on their hands would make a point of attending every single gladiatorial match without fail.

But that was beside the point. The real question was: why were they all coming here? Were you people really that bored? Did you travel all the way here just to watch a show?

Well, of course, coming specifically to watch his gladiatorial games was perfectly reasonable, because that wasn't a boring show—it was a magnificent art form!

"Hey, you, and you, both of you go follow them and see exactly what it is they're talking about." The restless Grandmaster randomly pointed at two guards, ordering them to tail the others and find out what was going on.

The two guards, who hadn't even washed their faces before starting their shift that morning, exchanged bitter glances. A fool was dangerous enough on his own, but when that fool was rich and powerful, it was even worse. Without a doubt, as an Elder of the Universe and the master of Sakaar, the Grandmaster was the ultimate, wealthy, and powerful fool. Working under him meant enjoying the best treatment on the planet, but it also meant enduring the most agonizing torture. After all, no one knew when this guy might have a whim and do something insane.

Just like now—what kind of request was this? Even though they had no idea what this "idol performance" was, so many big shots had already gone there; what use were the two of them? If they really discovered something that was detrimental to the Grandmaster, what were they supposed to do? Jumping in would mean instant death, and defecting would probably be a better option at that point.

Despite their internal grumbling, the two could only respond with a "Yes" and head out to carry out their orders.

...

"Hey, tell me, do you think this 'Seven Deadly Sins' is an organization?" the younger guard asked his companion in a low voice after leaving the Grandmaster’s private viewing hall.

"How would I know? But a place that even those big shots would go to... it must be really dangerous, right?"

The older guard had once been a gladiator, but after losing an eye in a fight, he had retired from the arena and become one of the Grandmaster's guards. Hearing his words, the younger guard looked even more distressed. "Dan-dangerous? Won't we run into trouble if we go there?"

The older guard sneered at his cowardice. "Dangerous? Why don't you try going back now? I’m afraid you don't realize that that side is the truly dangerous one."

This remark instantly made the younger guard recall the Grandmaster’s volatile temperament, and his mouth twitched for a long time without him being able to utter a single word.

Seeing him like this, the older guard laughed heartily. He stopped teasing him and offered some guidance: "Alright, alright, look at you. We're just going to take a look. Even if it's a den of dragons and tigers, we don't have to go inside, do we?"

"Right, right! Even if it really is some kind of trouble, we can just watch from a distance!" Enlightened, the younger guard clapped his hand to his head, realizing this was indeed a viable path.

The older guard nodded with an expression that suggested the student was finally teachable. "Exactly. But before that, we need to change our uniforms. We'll just hide in the crowd, take a look from afar, and leave. Regardless of what kind of trap it is, they can't force us to go in, can they?"

...

"Miss Pride! Miss Pride!!!!" The younger guard waved his glow sticks with both hands, moving them vigorously to the rhythm of the people around him.

"Tch, young people just don't understand. Let me tell you, Miss Envy's type is the best!" The older guard looked at the youth beside him with disdain.

"Shut up, old man! You only bought seven glow sticks; how dare you say you love her! I’ve already collected all forty-three exclusive glow sticks for Miss Pride!"

"Bah! I bought seven because I spent all the money I brought on the lottery for postcards! Postcards have much more collectible value than these sticks. What do you know about anything!"

...

"Hmm, this venue still doesn't seem big enough. Even though I’ve expanded it three times during this period, I didn't expect people from other planets to actually show up."

Jos frowned as he scanned the middle-aged man and the youth who were currently bickering. He then lowered his head to write down the requirements for a fourth expansion in his notebook, occasionally looking up to scan some of the more subtle presences hiding in the crowd.

There was Ronan the Accuser, waving a hammer the size of a human head while cheering for the girls; Yondu, grinning with his gold-toothed smile; and the Collector, still madly pulling lottery tickets while clutching a giant pile of glow sticks.

Yeah... never mind. I didn't see anything.

Although he had dreamed of this before, he never expected these weirdos to actually show up! While their combat strength varied, if they were to start a riot, even he wouldn't be able to handle it if he went all out. At first, Jos had been extremely nervous, ready to open a portal at any moment to take the Seven Deadly Sins members back to Earth. But later, when he realized these people were just there to watch the show, he stopped caring.

Incidentally, after staying on Sakaar for some time, the teleportation point here had long since been opened, but Jos had no intention of returning to Earth. On one hand, he couldn't get away, and on the other, his farewell on Earth had been way too serious. It would feel inappropriate to return just a few weeks later. After all, Captain America and the others had gone to Russia to find Bucky and hadn't even finished dealing with that yet, right?

After pondering these trivial matters, Jos shrugged and buried himself in his work once again.

...

"So! Where on earth did the people I sent out go!!!!" The Grandmaster slammed his hand onto the table, then spent a while blowing on his swollen, throbbing palm.

An entire afternoon had passed, and not a single one of the two groups of guards he had sent out had returned!

"Damn it, were those idiots killed? Who exactly is this so-called 'Idol' person!"

However, he hadn't come away entirely empty-handed. At the very least, he had learned that behind this organization called "Idol" was a man named Jos.

The Grandmaster thought for a moment with a gloomy expression, then opened a communication channel to someone and ordered viciously:

"This guy named Jos—kill him within three days, and scatter his ashes to the winds!"