Henry Hughes's voice turned cold too, biting off his words, "So, you're playing word games with me?"
Julian Fairchild didn't deny it.
"Screw you!"
"Ah! Julian!!"
"Julian, are you okay?!"
"Henry Hughes, how can you just hit someone!!"
The stadium, which had quieted down because of Maeve Lane's departure, exploded due to Henry Hughes's sudden action.
Julian Fairchild barely managed to dodge, but his cheek was still grazed by the punch, leaving his handsome face a bit disheveled, though his lips still curled up.
He looked somewhat defiant.
His gaze, as sharp as a blade, swept over Henry Hughes, whose fists were clenched, and he gestured for the people around to "stop" with a faint motion.
He wiped the wound on his face with his hand, coldly saying, "I'm in a good mood today, so I won't bother with you."
Henry Hughes raised his fist again, but was quickly stopped by the people beside him!
"Henry, don't be angry! Fair competition, fair competition! It's no good to hit people!"
