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Meanwhile, Yan Jin, though still further down on the leaderboard, had been steadily progressing. After days of battling Plasma Cells and absorbing their latent energy, he had begun to unlock the Garuda\'s techniques in his mind. He could feel the power stirring within him—the vision of the Garuda\'s flurry of attacks had become more than just a fleeting image.

It had become a source of inspiration, one that he intended to manifest in his archery. He was honing his technique, practicing with every Plasma Cell he fought, but there was still much more to learn.

Eventually, after days of grueling survival, Yan Jin found himself approaching a significant milestone within the labyrinth—the first crossroad. The labyrinth\'s walls widened dramatically, forming a vast, open arena-like space. The walls were covered in pulsating veins, like the rest of the maze, but here, they seemed to radiate a strange, electric energy.

The floor was circular, with strange ancient symbols etched into the ground. In the center, four podiums stood equidistant from one another, each connected to a corresponding doorway at the perimeter of the arena.

The air crackled with latent energy, and the oppressive pressure from before had intensified. Yan Jin walked slowly toward the center of the arena, his bamboo stick tapping lightly against the stone as he approached one of the podiums. The moment his foot touched the circular stage, a low hum reverberated through the room. He felt the pressure in the air shift, and he realized that he was not alone.

From three other corridors, figures emerged. Each of them was a participant who had also reached the crossroad. They stepped into the arena with the same look of exhaustion and determination that marked the trials. The first was a tall man, his face etched with scars, his body rippling with muscle. He carried a massive broadsword on his back and eyed Yan Jin with a mixture of disdain and calculation.

The second was a lithe woman, her eyes sharp and predatory, daggers in both hands. Her movements were graceful, yet lethal, like a snake poised to strike. The third was a younger man, not much older than Yan Jin, but his expression was hardened by experience. He held a staff adorned with intricate carvings, his grip tight as if ready to unleash devastating spells at a moment\'s notice.

"Finally," the man with the broadsword said, his voice rough and deep. "We need four people to activate the arena. Now that you\'re here, we can begin." His eyes scanned the room, resting momentarily on the ancient symbols on the ground. "Only one of us gets to pass through that door," he said, gesturing to the massive stone door on the far side of the arena, marked with even more ancient runes.

The woman twirled her daggers idly in her hands, her eyes never leaving Yan Jin. "Well, it\'s obvious who\'s going to be eliminated first," she said with a smirk. Her gaze was predatory, eyes locked onto him like a cat ready to pounce on a wounded bird. "We take him out first, then settle things between us."

The man with the staff nodded in agreement, his expression serious. "It\'s nothing personal," he said flatly, though his grip tightened on his weapon. "But you\'re lagging behind. And we don\'t have time to play games."

The ground beneath their feet began to glow, the ancient symbols igniting with a soft, eerie light. The activation had begun. The arena was alive now, fully awakened by the presence of all four participants. A low hum reverberated through the stone as the air around them became charged with energy. The pressure increased tenfold, forcing Yan Jin to steady himself against the overwhelming sensation.

Without another word, the three opponents spread out, forming a loose triangle around Yan Jin. The woman with the daggers struck first, her movements swift and silent as she lunged at him from behind. Her blades gleamed in the dim light as they arced toward his back.

At the same moment, the man with the broadsword charged from the front, his weapon raised high above his head, ready to bring it down in a crushing blow. The spellcaster in the distance began chanting under his breath, his staff glowing with a strange light as he prepared a powerful spell to strike.

Yan Jin remained still for a heartbeat, his senses heightened by the pressure of the impending attacks. Then, with lightning speed, he moved.

"Look at screen 45!" a spectator yelled, drawing the attention of the restless crowd. A murmur of disbelief rippled through the stands as they focused on the image before them.

"He\'s gonna get killed!" another exclaimed, watching the three fighters converge on Yan Jin with deadly intent.

A scoff came from a man further up in the stands. "You must not know about Money God Yan Jin," he said, shaking his head. "He\'s just as strong as Wei Xi and Yan Bai. Don\'t underestimate him."

The arena watched in rapt anticipation as Yan Jin appeared to be outmatched, surrounded by foes who were intent on ending his chances. The woman with the daggers had launched herself at his back, the broadsword wielder was closing in from the front, and the mage\'s staff glowed with lethal intent.

"They\'re attacking!" a voice called out, tension gripping the crowd. But then, confusion swept through the onlookers. "What happened?" another spectator asked, their voice rising in concern.

On the screen, Yan Jin had vanished.

The afterimage of his body lingered for just a moment, but it was enough to create an explosive shockwave that disrupted the formation of his attackers. The crowd gasped as the pressure from his sudden movement rippled through the arena, the sheer force of it sending the broadsword fighter stumbling back, his attack halted in its tracks.

The woman with the daggers paused mid-strike, her eyes widening in shock, while the spellcaster faltered in his incantation, unsure of what had just occurred.

By the time they realized what had happened, it was too late. Yan Jin had already repositioned himself on the opposite side of the arena, his black bow drawn tight. Hovering in mid-air, his form seemed weightless, almost ethereal, his long dark robes fluttering in the turbulent winds created by the maelstrom.

The golden bandage over his eyes only heightened the intensity of his presence, lending an almost godlike aura to his form.

The arena held its breath as Yan Jin released three arrows in quick succession. They flew from his bow with deadly precision, each one humming with the faint, ominous glow of concentrated energy. The arrows seemed to sing as they cut through the air, streaking toward his opponents with the speed of lightning.

The first arrow whistled toward the broadsword wielder, who had barely recovered his balance. His eyes widened in panic as he raised his weapon to block the attack, but the force of the impact sent him skidding across the arena floor, his sword vibrating violently from the blow.

The second arrow targeted the woman with the daggers. She twisted her body, attempting to dodge, but the arrow\'s path shifted mid-flight, adjusting to her movements. It grazed her side, the impact causing her to stagger, her daggers slipping from her grasp.

The third arrow flew toward the spellcaster, who had managed to recover his focus and was preparing to unleash a powerful spell. The arrow struck his staff just as he began to chant, shattering the magical focus in his hands and sending a shockwave of energy rippling through the arena. The force of the impact knocked him to the ground, his spell unraveling before it could take form.

The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps as the screen displayed Yan Jin\'s overwhelming speed and power. In the stands, Purple Spear Meng allowed himself a small smile. "He was still hiding this movement technique" he murmured to the City Lord beside him.

The City Lord nodded, his eyes sharp. "That kid... he\'s far from done. Let\'s see what he has in store for them next."

Nie Li grit his teeth, his jaw tightening as he watched the scene unfold. "This bastard... he\'s really hateful," he thought bitterly, his fists clenched as Yan Jin dominated the arena with effortless precision.

Meanwhile, in the arena, Yan Jin exhaled calmly, lowering his bow as the tension eased for just a brief moment. His demeanor was casual, almost as if the previous skirmish had barely registered in his mind. He began walking toward his opponents, his steps slow and deliberate, closing the distance until he was within melee range.

"Now that we\'ve established the order of dominance," he said, his voice calm but laced with condescension. His presence was an unyielding force in the arena, the weight of his words echoing through the space.

His bow, though now at his side, radiated a deadly aura. Yan Jin smirked, tilting his head ever so slightly "If you can entertain me," he continued, his tone dripping with arrogance, "I\'ll let you live."

His words were a taunt, an open challenge. He could sense their hesitation, their wounded pride as they realized they were being toyed with. But the offer hung in the air, daring them to make their next move.

All three fighters exchanged wary glances, their resolve hardening as they prepared to strike back. But there was a flicker of uncertainty in their eyes—they knew the gap in power between them and Yan Jin. Still, they couldn\'t afford to back down.

The broadsword fighter stepped forward first, his heavy blade raised high as he let out a roar of determination. The woman with the daggers followed swiftly, her movements sharp and calculated as she circled to Yan Jin\'s flank. The spellcaster, despite his shattered staff, began weaving energy into his hands, preparing a desperate attack.

Yan Jin remained still, his smirk widening as they closed in. "Good," he said softly, his body tensing as he prepared for the next clash. "Let\'s see what you\'ve got."