“Next.” Oron’s voice rang out, signaling the continuation of the drawing after Jermaine finished his turn.

“I’ll go.”

At that moment, George stomped forward and aggressively shoved a martial artist away as he reached into the black box.

The martial artist who had been shoved frowned and looked up at George’s burly bear-like frame. Despite the intimidation, he suppressed his anger.

Although a martial artist’s strength couldn’t be judged by their size, George’s imposing presence was undeniable.

After rummaging inside the box for a few seconds, George pulled out a glass ball. But before anyone could see the number inside, he crushed it with his powerful grip.

The ball shattered with a sharp crack, and fragments scattered across the floor.

He looked at the fragments in his hand and burst into laughter. His eyes glinted with malice as he turned to Jermaine.

He said sinisterly, “Jermaine, huh? Unlucky bastard, you’ll have one hell of a day. Look at this.” He showed him the metal disc, which displayed “30.”

Jermaine’s number was 3, and George’s was 30. According to the pairing rules, they were set to face off in the third match.

“I’ve killed countless brutes like you. All brawn and no brains. You’re nothing but a walking pile of

tall and bulky had proven useless against his blade. No matter how big or strong, it made no difference. Those brutes, who sacrificed speed and agility for sheer power, were

angry, George laughed heartily, though his eyes were filled with deadly intent. “We’ll see if you’re still laughing after I

yapping! Let’s settle this in the battle ring.”

sinisterly, like a

“Next,” Oron said.

long as no rules were broken and no trouble was caused, he didn’t care if someone

draw their numbers. Some made a show of it, while

hid them. They were wary of giving away any tactical advantages. After all, knowing an opponent’s details in advance could provide a

kept their numbers hidden after the draw. Only those confident in their skills

and Fenley, who ranked among the top on the Heavenly Immortals list, were almost certain to reach the top eight as long as they didn’t

the eighth match. It was in the middle of the lineup-neither advantageous nor

would be number 25. If his memory served him right, that

The ball had a metal disc in the center

battles, he

his aristocratic lineage, was likely to be formidable. It would be an excellent chance to test his skills against a vampire elite

sense something. He looked up and

His eyes narrowed as he sized up

say you’re as good as dead. And don’t think I’ll make it

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255