134 Do Not Disturb the Idol Fan

Chanu was one of the Grandmaster's most loyal subordinates, a warrior hailing from a remote and obscure planet. Unlike most guards or gladiators, his race was one that derived supreme pleasure from slaughter. This was not merely a psychological or mental quirk; physiologically, his species only released substances similar to human dopamine during the act of killing and combat, providing them with a fleeting moment of euphoria.

It was precisely this trait that made the Grandmaster so fond of him, to the point where he couldn't bear to waste him as a disposable gladiator, choosing instead to keep him as a fiercely loyal death squad commander. Alongside him was a group of warriors also devoted to the Grandmaster. While they lacked his pathological traits, they were an elite force, far superior to the replaceable guards that filled the ranks.

The Grandmaster had calculated his move carefully. The meager intelligence he had gathered regarding Joss, the man behind the scenes, was that he possessed an incredibly potent power of persuasion. Therefore, the men he dispatched were all battle-crazed maniacs whose thirst for combat had reached a twisted, psychological level—the kind even he wouldn't bother putting in the arena. Using them as warriors was perfect; they were obedient and immune to subversion or seduction. Unless someone possessed direct mind-control abilities, no ordinary method could sway their conviction.

Chanu did not disappoint his master. When he arrived at the concert venue with his men, he didn't even glance at the young girls on stage. His unmoved expression was so intense that nearby spectators cast wary, protective looks toward their own backsides, fearing for their safety. Ignoring their gazes, Chanu waved his hand, signaling his men to charge!

At his command, dozens of formidable warriors roared and lunged toward the audience. A bloody massacre was about to unfold!

"Get out of the way if you don't want to die!" A hot-tempered, tattooed, bald warrior sprinted forward, brandishing a short axe in one hand, clearly ready to cleave anyone too slow to move.

*Whiz!*

Suddenly, a whistle blew. A golden dart flashed through the air, piercing the knee of the would-be god of war instantly, ensuring that his future career would be limited to standing guard at a door. Yondu retrieved the golden dart, flashed a grin revealing his gold teeth, and turned back to calmly watch the performance.

...

A shield-bearing warrior with a determined gaze—his gear clearly indicating a steady, methodical fighting style—scanned the crowd and locked onto an elderly man with fluffy white hair who looked rather weak.

Oh, poor Collector. The Grandmaster’s men didn't recognize him, and in the next second, he was about to get his backside kicked. Although they were Elders of the Universe, these buffoons were not powerful beings in this universe; in fact, they were so weak that most people could trounce them. Heaven knows how the Collector had protected his collection all this time... oh, right, that was exactly why he had been robbed.

Even an ordinary warrior would make the Collector suffer if he got close. He wouldn't die—after all, he had survived the looting of his collection with nothing more than singed hair—but one could only guess what other trump cards these seemingly powerless Elders possessed besides immortality.

However, at that critical moment, the Collector seemed to have a flash of inspiration. Clutching a limited-edition glow stick, he shrieked, "Whoever stops them gets a free gacha pull from meeeeeeeee!!!!!"

In that instant, the Grandmaster’s warriors learned what it was like to be a lone player surrounded by a mob of "whales." To put it simply, they were swallowed by a sea of desperate, deep-pocketed fans.

...

Chanu stared at the scene in disbelief. Heaven knows how it happened, but the Sakaarians, usually a scattered pile of sand, had inexplicably united, wiping out half of his warriors in a single exchange!

"A bunch of losers! I'll do it myself!" With a roar, Chanu charged at full speed toward the stage. He wanted to destroy those in his path, he wanted to destroy the stage, he wanted to destroy everything! As a loyalist to the Grandmaster, there was nothing he believed he couldn't do on this planet. Anyone who stood in his way, he would kill; anyone could be killed! Because here, the Grandmaster’s will was law, and the Grandmaster’s thoughts were the rules. As long as the Grandmaster wanted it, no one dared say a word of dissent!

"Do not stand in my way." A cold, murderous voice suddenly echoed in Chanu's ear.

"ROAR!!!!" Without a moment's hesitation, Chanu drew his alloy machete from his waist and swung it behind him! The strike was so vicious that even a veteran of a thousand battles would have shuddered at its bone-chilling coldness.

*Clang!*

In the next second, Chanu found a slender iron rod blocking his blade. Despite the seemingly effortless block, his indestructible sword could not advance even an inch.

"I said, do not stand in my way." As the cold tone returned, Chanu saw a man with gray-blue skin staring intently at him.

Ronan the Accuser?! Even the most detached individuals, as a warrior, Chanu had heard of this Kree warlord.

Before Chanu could make another move, Ronan swung his warhammer with both hands, slamming it squarely into Chanu's chest. He was sent flying over a hundred meters, crashing into a pile of ruins and scrap, his fate unknown.

"Hmph."

Giving the direction where Chanu fell a dissatisfied glance, Ronan lowered his hammer and slowly reached into his cloak...

In the next second, Ronan was seen holding a glow stick between every finger of both hands, waving them like two fans, rhythmically cheering along with the music, his face completely expressionless.

...

"The Grandmaster's men, huh? This guy is even more unpleasant than I imagined." Joss worked away, lifting his eyelids to look at the captives before him.

After being beaten by the mob, these guys had been dragged to Joss by Sokh and his men to await judgment. Although they said nothing, their armor made their identities crystal clear.

"Fine. Anyway, the fun... and the preparations are about done. It's time I had a meeting with that Grandmaster."