LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 559: Viewing Area
Before she could reach her designated area, they were stopped by security. Two guards stepped forward, their faces stern but professional.
"Standard procedure, my lady," one of them said, gesturing for her to stand aside.
JJ nodded, her pulse quickening as the guards approached. Her mind raced. The spider—the one she had been so careful to hide—was still in her pouch. She had felt its weight against her leg just minutes ago. What if they find it? Her heart pounded in her chest.
The Black Bulls had their claws in her, and if the spider was discovered, it could mean more than just suspicion. It could mean everything she'd worked to hide would be unraveled.
The guard began his search, his hands moving methodically, first patting down her cloak, then moving to her pouches. He pulled out the water flask, gave it a cursory glance, and placed it back without a second thought. JJ's stomach twisted as he moved to the next pouch—the one where she had hidden the spider.
But when his hand reached inside, he pulled out nothing but a scrap of cloth. No spider. No trace of the tracking device that had been following her every move. JJ's breath caught in her throat. It's gone?
The guard finished the search, giving her a nod. "Everything seems in order," he said, stepping back to let her pass.
JJ blinked, momentarily stunned. She forced herself to nod in return, but her mind was spinning. Where did it go?
The butler noticed her hesitation, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Shall we continue, my lady?" His voice was calm, but JJ could feel the weight of his gaze on her.
"Yes," she muttered, quickly regaining her composure. "Let's go."
As they walked through the opulent halls of the Arena waiting grounds, JJ's thoughts remained tangled. The spider was gone. But how? Had the Black Bulls retrieved it somehow? Or worse, was it still tracking her in some other way, without her knowing? She clenched her fists beneath her cloak, fighting the rising unease.
I need to figure this out.
JJ allowed herself to be dressed, her mind already on the battle to come. The attendants moved quickly, ensuring the silk flame-like patterns of her gown were perfect, smoothing out every fold. The dress was bold, red and orange flames woven into the fabric, a testament to her choice to sponsor Ty Hockinson—the first demon to appear in over fifty years.
It wasn't just a sponsorship; it was a statement. And in some eyes, it bordered on treason.
She caught her reflection in the mirror, and for a moment, she paused. The gown, with its sweeping cut and flickering colors, was more than just attire. It represented defiance, a challenge to the very system that others clung to. Ty wasn't just another fighter; he was something far more dangerous, far more unpredictable. And yet, she had chosen him.
As she stepped out, the weight of her decision pressed down on her shoulders. Conversations would be quieter when she entered the sponsor's pavilion, eyes would linger a little longer, and judgments would be whispered just out of earshot. But that didn't matter now. What mattered was the Arena below, and the battle that was about to begin.
The hall leading to the pavilion was lined with banners, each representing one of the fighters. They fluttered gently, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the murmur of tension that filled the air. As JJ passed, her eyes brushed over the banners of her competitors. Some bore symbols of past champions, warriors whose legacies had built the wealth of the sponsors who now stood above the chaos.
She entered the sponsor's pavilion, where the air was cooler, filtered through unseen vents. The marble beneath her feet gleamed, but what caught her eye wasn't the decor—it was the massive screen hanging in front of the pavilion, stretching from one side of the room to the other. This was where they watched.
The battlefield itself, dozens of miles away, was displayed in perfect clarity through enhanced cameras and live feeds that captured every detail.
JJ moved toward the front, where the railing stood not to overlook the battlefield itself, but to separate them from the rows of control panels and tech stations. The high-tech setup pulsed with quiet energy. Holographic screens floated in the air, showing different angles of the Arena, while data streams scrolled down in real time, reporting every movement and injury the contestants sustained.
She settled into her spot, her eyes drawn to the central screen where Kern and Gisorn appeared, already moving into position. Their images flickered in high definition, every bead of sweat and the strain of muscles visible as they navigated through the terrain. From here, miles away, JJ could still see every detail as though she were right beside them.
A few sponsors were already present, some standing close to the screens, others seated in sleek, leather chairs that curved around personal holographic displays. They weren't talking much—just observing, pointing out tactics, adjusting their bets through embedded panels in the armrests.
A man dressed in dark, tailored clothing approached the spot next to JJ. His gaze flicked briefly to the screen showing Ty's team before settling on her. "Impressive setup this year. They've upgraded the motion tracking. You can see the slight shifts in posture before they even make their move."
JJ didn't turn to look at him, her focus still on the screens. "Every year they push the technology further. Keeps people engaged."
He gave a small nod, leaning against the railing. "And you've done your part in that. Backing a demon. First one in fifty years." His voice carried a hint of disbelief. "Not many would make that choice."
JJ's eyes stayed on the battlefield feed. "Ty isn't like the others."
"Demons rarely are." The man's gaze shifted back to the screens, watching the live feed zoom in on Ty, the black flames flickering faintly around him, waiting. "People remember the last one. Didn't end well for anyone."
JJ didn't respond, but her hand brushed the sleek surface of the control panel in front of her, ready to send aid if necessary.
Around her, other sponsors were doing the same—some were making last-minute changes to their strategies, others quietly chatting, glancing between screens and data. JJ heard fragments of conversation—one sponsor discussing a weapons drop, another adjusting the health statistics of their fighter, preparing for the worst.