48 Hours a Day
Chapter 744 - Arena's Master
“It seems the Germanic are not that great after all.”
After watching the fight between the gladiators and Germanics, Varo changed his impressions of them.
On the other hand, Zhang Heng had different opinions. “I don’t quite agree with that.”
“Hmm?”
“In terms of strength, the gladiators indeed have the edge but don’t forget that the Germanic had been dragged here in the prison wagon from a distant land. They are not in the best physical and mental state. I think they used only forty or fifty percent of their strength just now. I think the gladiators that were asked to fight them were meant to put fear in them. Although the school stationed only six gladiators, they were not bothered by the Germanic fighters. I’m pretty sure that these are not the best gladiators in this school. However, they are definitely above average. In other words, these Germanic have been tricked by the school. After the humiliating defeat, they will learn to respect the school more, and at the same time, train harder to redeem themselves from what happened today.”
After Zhang Heng finished speaking, he found Varo staring at him blankly.
“What?”
Varo hesitated and said with sympathy, “In your Han Empire, the political struggle between the nobles must be cruel. Otherwise, how did you managed to come up with all this information from just a single fight? You sound like a wise and respectable old man.”
“…”
They did get to stand aside and watch the fight for too long. With the arrival of the Germanic, the new batch of slaves purchased by the school had arrived. Hence, the person in charge of the school summoned everyone to the training field.
There were about forty or fifty people in total. In addition to the six Germanic men, Gaul, Parthian, Sami, and Zhang Heng, a Han from the far east. Some were prisoners of war, some were slaves, and some were civilians who volunteered to become gladiators. Among them were forgotten Roman nobles too. As he looked at them, Zhang Heng felt as though he was at a small international exchange meeting.
Everyone stood together and whispered to each other, each wearing different expressions on their faces.
Zhang Heng noticed a touch of excitement on Varo’s face. Today was the day where the group of backup gladiators started attending this school. Usually, the owner of the school would show up to check on his new students.
The moment he showed up, Varo would try his best to convince the owner that he was good at doing business. If everything went well, he would not need to stay here anymore. He could walk on the streets again and breathe in the free air. Though there was a certain limit to his freedom, it was still better than becoming a gladiator and fight till his death in the arena. Being a gladiator was also better than being sent to the countryside to toil in the fields and work the mines.
Varo took a look at Zhang Heng beside him. Instead of fear or anxiety, the latter’s face showed interest, as if he was a tourist visiting a faraway land. Varo secretly admired Zhang Heng from the Great Han Empire, that he could be so optimistic.
Finally, when everyone had gotten a little impatient under the scorching sun, the school’s owner finally appeared on the stage. It was a middle-aged Roman who looked rich. He was wearing a short-sleeved long gown that could be spotted easily on the streets and a blanket-like cloak draped over his shoulders. The scarf had a different length on each side, where the left part was pinned under his arm. He waved it around his chest and neck, then tucked it into his waist. In one hand, he dragged a piece of fabric, and the other was empty. The emerald ring on his finger was very conspicuous.
Zhang Heng knew that not everyone could wear like this on the street. The slaves, foreigners, and even liberated slaves were only allowed to wear long-sleeved clothes but not the cloak.
Beside the middle-aged Roman, two young female slaves with good figures followed him from behind. One carefully supported him, while the other held a piece of cloth above him to block out the sunlight. The three then appeared on the building’s second-floor balcony right in front of the field.
The trainer lashed the whip in his hand, and everyone on the training ground stopped talking. Then the head of the school bowed slightly to the middle-aged Roman. “Everyone is here, master.”
“Let’s start then.” Clearly, this wasn’t the middle-aged Roman’s first rodeo. He nodded and sat on a chair in the middle of the balcony, like an emperor seated on a throne, overlooking everyone beneath him.
He was called Mark Reuss, and he ran the second-largest gladiator school in Rome, with more than four-hundred gladiators under his wing. The theater next to the arena, the three gladiator training grounds, and the restroom were his assets.
In a sense, he was indeed like an emperor here.
He then waved his hand at the school’s head, who instantly shouted at the gladiators in front of him.
“Take off your clothes!”
Everyone looked at each other until the trainer raised his whip again, and they quickly began to undress, revealing their muscular bodies. Initially, Varo thought that those unruly Germanics would be trouble, but to his surprise, they simply hesitated for a while before falling in line and taking off their clothes as well.
At this point, Varo was impressed by Zhang Heng’s earlier speculation.
Everyone had soon taken off their shirts, but the trainers still seemed dissatisfied. So, the gladiators had to continue undressing until only loincloths were left on their bodies. Then, Mark Reuss finally expressed his satisfaction.
He stood up, looked at each of them, and muttered, “Very good. This time, the greedy slave trader finally found me some good slaves.”
The person in charge of the school added, “These guys should be able to make up for the manpower we lost.”
“But they didnt come cheap,” the middle-aged Roman’s eyes flickered. “Where is the Germanic who cost me seven thousand sestertii?”
The trainer then signaled Bach to come forward, and he reluctantly walked out of the crowd.
“Come closer and let me have a better look,” commanded Mark Reuss.
Bach could only take two more steps forward and came downstairs.
“Hmm, do you think he can be compared to Sethnets?” asked Mark Reuss to the head of the school.
“This… might be quite a challenge.”
Sethnets was the three-time champion of the Victor Arena. He was completely unbeatable. When he first came to the school, they had to send four of their most skillful gladiators to defeat him. Although Mark Reuss was probably unhappy after listening to what he had to say, the person in charge of the school decided to tell the truth after some thought. Otherwise, if Bach’s future growth failed to meet his expectations, the head and the trainer would suffer his wrath.
“Although Bach’s potential is not bad, he still not good enough to compare with Sethnets. There is a big gap between them.”
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