Anyway, nobody plays by the rules anymore, do they?

The first round of the wager was won by Joss without a single shred of suspense.

The reason he had spent so much time yapping with the Grandmaster was precisely to steer the conversation toward this outcome. Given the Grandmaster’s pathological obsession with gambling, the odds of baiting him into a bet were quite high. Although it had evolved into a best-of-five series, Joss held the right to set the rules for three of those rounds; by relying on the effect of "Childhood Sweethearts," he could forcibly decree his own victory. As for the two rounds controlled by the Grandmaster, he could simply throw them if necessary.

Just as Joss was feeling self-satisfied, the Grandmaster’s voice rang out: "For the second round, you shall face several of my gladiators in a fight to the death."

"I forfeit. You win," Joss replied without even looking up. It was obvious—not only did the Grandmaster love gladiatorial combat, but after the first round, he would naturally choose such a lethal setup to test Joss.

However, the female guard spoke up again, her tone icy: "Mr. Joss, if you choose to surrender without a fight, our subsequent wagers will not proceed."

Any person with a functioning brain could see that Joss had already secured an insurmountable advantage in this best-of-five series, and naturally, they had no desire to continue under such terms.

Joss shrugged nonchalantly. "Whatever. Then let's call it off. I’ll go back to hosting my concert, and you lot can carry on with your gladiatorial games."

Upon hearing this, the Grandmaster grew flustered and stood up, ready to protest, but the female guard was quick to pull him back, positioning herself in front of him.

"If that is your choice, then please feel free to leave, Mr. Joss," the guard said, her expression serene—or perhaps she was simply viewing the gamble as an impartial observer, as it held no direct stake for her. She then shifted her tone, smiling, "Though... you may be able to afford the wait, but can the Hulk?"

Hearing those words, Joss’s eyes widened, and he jumped to his feet, shouting, "Damn it! How does she know my goal is the Hulk?"

Sohr and the others covered their faces, signaling their desire to remain silent.

"In short, that is the situation. If you do not wish to gamble, then leave. Do not think that mastering some strange gambling technique guarantees you a win," the Grandmaster interjected at the perfect moment to posture, acting as if he were the one who had delivered the devastating counter-rebuttal.

At this point, Joss knew this fight was unavoidable. Yet, he wasn't overly worried; the Grandmaster’s underlings had limited combat prowess, so he figured it shouldn't be too difficult.

...

"Grandmaster, I send my regards to your mother!"

Descending into the arena and seeing the place packed to the brim with figures, Joss let out a string of curses. You call three hundred people "several" fighters? What is this, a Spartan reenactment?

Though he wanted to go back and settle the score with the Grandmaster, the men before him gave him no such opportunity. The gate behind him slammed shut the moment he entered the arena.

"Tch, fine, let's fight. I haven't stretched my limbs in a while since coming here."

Joss spat on the ground in annoyance, then spread his arms and let out a wild roar as several tentacles erupted from his back. This time, however, he didn't draw four blades; he pulled eight from his system inventory.

With a sudden flick of his wrists, the tentacles caught the eight blades. A multitude of tentacles then twisted and fused together, merging with the blades to form two massive, savage arms suspended behind his shoulders.

G-William Form 3: Joss Replica!

With a booming laugh, Joss charged into the sea of enemies. Every swing of his terrifying bladed arms sent gore flying, slicing through the armor of the common soldiers as if it were paper.

When he had agreed to "have a chat" with the Grandmaster, Joss had naturally not been entirely at ease. Considering the worst-case scenario—that he might have to face the Hulk—his existing strength might not have been enough to guarantee his safety. After some deliberation, he had found the best and easiest way to boost his power: the Blood of Chaos, which he had been using to mask his true strength.

The first stage of the Blood of Chaos had boosted his physical attributes fivefold—stronger than the standard Super Soldier Serum, not to mention its unique effects. Once the time and place for the negotiation with the Grandmaster were set, Joss simply took out a loan from the system (yes, again) and spent 100,000 points to evolve the blood.

[Name: Blood of Chaos, Stage Two]
[Rating: ???]
[Description: This is something that should never have been born, and yet you have allowed it to evolve once more. No one knows what it will become next.]
[Advanced Physical Enhancement: Increases overall physical attributes (excluding intelligence) by an additional 200%.]
[Low-Viscosity Body: 20% of your body's surface (including organs) can temporarily transform into a mucus-like structure. This layer not only reduces physical damage but also allows you to adhere to the surface of any object for a short duration.]
[Powerful Tentacle Appendages: You can temporarily grow several tentacle appendages. These tentacles can fuse with other items to form new shapes. The total strength of the tentacles is approximately equal to the strength of your arms.]
[Penguin Killer: While using the active abilities of the Blood of Chaos, you will become exceptionally annoyed by penguins and occasionally feel the urge to shout "Takalili."]
[Evolution: When you feel you have fully adapted to this new power, you may spend 200,000 Source of Death to evolve again.]
[PS: This serum seems even more ominous than expected, doesn't it?]

Although he hadn't gained any flashy, "cool" new powers, the second-stage Blood of Chaos was simple and brutal. It had increased his physical stats by another 200% on top of his current baseline. In terms of raw physique, he was now starting at fifteen "Hawkeyes"! Considering inflation—no, wait, Hawkeye’s growth—he was at least at a twelve-Hawkeye level.

The viscous body wasn't of much use to Joss, as his Infinite Suit was already the best armor available, making it impossible for ordinary slashes or stabs to reach him. However, it at least allowed him to maneuver on vertical surfaces just like Spider-Man.

As for that final ability... its effect was so powerful it left even Joss stunned; it was essentially a twofold increase in his combat effectiveness!

...

In the spectator stands, the Grandmaster watched Joss wreak havoc below with cold eyes, a disdainful snort escaping his nose.

"Hmph, enjoy this moment while you can. What I’ve arranged for you is far from just three hundred pieces of cannon fodder."