Back in the Soto Great Spirit Arena, inside the Thirteenth Spirit Fight ring, the crowd was growing restless. They stared impatiently at the cleaning team, who were still frantically working on the contaminated stage. The quarter of an hour announced by the host had already passed, but judging by the chaotic scene in the ring, the cleanup was far from over. No one had expected the mess to be this difficult to handle.
"Boss, are you sure one person did all this?" a member of the cleaning crew asked, sweat pouring down his face inside his thick, protective suit. The gear was stifling, and he felt deeply uncomfortable.
"I underestimated the situation," the man addressed as the captain replied, finally standing up and walking off the stage. At this rate, it would take at least another fifteen minutes to get the arena properly cleaned. He went straight to the person in charge of this branch of the Spirit Arena to inform him that they needed more time.
At this news, a wave of impatience washed over the audience. They had paid their money to watch exciting Spirit Fights, not to sit around watching a cleaning crew work. A single night's session was only two or three hours long, and this delay had already eaten up nearly half an hour of it. No one was happy.
Seeing the growing discontent, the person in charge of the arena immediately ordered the cleaning captain to get back to work. If the stage wasn't thoroughly cleaned, the next Spirit Fight couldn't begin, and that would lead to even greater losses for the arena. After a moment of thought, he waved the host over and whispered a few quick instructions in his ear.
The host nodded in understanding, then raised the microphone and spoke in a loud, clear voice.
"My sincerest apologies, dear audience members. The cleaning of the arena has proven more difficult than we anticipated, so we may require another quarter of an hour."
As soon as he finished speaking, the crowd erupted in complaints.
"Are you kidding me? Another fifteen minutes?"
"That's half an hour in total! We're not going to get to see anything at this rate!"
"So half my ticket money was wasted today? I want a refund!"
Hearing the angry shouts, the host remained calm, a slight smile on his face. The man in charge had already anticipated this reaction and had given him the solution. He elegantly raised the microphone again.
"Please, everyone, don't worry," he said calmly. "Due to the unique situation that occurred here tonight, and as an apology to all of you, the Soto Spirit Arena will be refunding half of the ticket price to everyone present! After tonight's event, you can all go to the ticket office with your tickets to receive your refund!"
His voice echoed through the arena, and the complaining audience suddenly fell silent. A fifty percent refund for a half-hour delay? If they did the math, they were actually coming out ahead. And when there was profit to be made, everyone was happy.
"Now that's how you do business! The Soto Great Spirit Arena always knows how to solve a problem!"
"You're right. They've built a great reputation over the years for a reason."
The audience settled back into their seats with satisfied smiles, now willing to wait patiently.
The person in charge watched the scene unfold with an expected smile of his own. Having been in this position for years, he understood the nature of his customers perfectly. But as his smile faded, a cold glint appeared in his eyes. While the audience was satisfied, the Spirit Arena had still suffered a loss. Businessmen are driven by profit, and if they lose money, someone has to pay for it.
"Go find the participant from the last match," the man in charge said quietly, calling over two men in black who stood behind him. The person he was referring to was, of course, Tang San. The losses the arena incurred tonight could be blamed entirely on him. Therefore, it was only natural that he should be the one to compensate them. The participation agreement every fighter signed clearly stated the penalties for causing major disruptions. Now, they just had to find him.
Not far from the arena, Tang San limped out of the toilet. Now that he had finally cleaned himself up, he was starting to feel the intense pain radiating through his body. His opponent had landed several direct hits with his spear, but in the heat and shame of the moment, he hadn't felt the worst of it. Now, however, his entire right leg was swollen and throbbing.
"Xiao San, don't be discouraged. No one could have expected what happened tonight," Yu Xiaogang said, patting Tang San's shoulder with a calm expression. "I watched your entire fight. If that accident hadn't happened, you would have won."
Although he knew he was lying through his teeth, he delivered the lines with a natural confidence. The entire battle process? Yu Xiaogang had arrived just in time to witness Tang San's explosive humiliation. He had completely missed the brief moment when his disciple actually had the upper hand. But he said it to comfort Tang San, whose face was pale with shame.
"Teacher, I..." Tang San looked up at Yu Xiaogang, wanting to speak but unable to find the words. He had not only disgraced himself tonight; he had disgraced his teacher. He didn't care what the strangers in the audience thought—he was wearing a mask, so they wouldn't recognize him anyway. But the other Shrek students and the two deans had seen everything. His great battle to prove himself had turned into a clown show. He felt like a burden to his teacher, and he was sure that everyone else from Shrek was laughing at them both right now. He had no idea how he was going to face them when he returned to the academy.
"Don't put too much pressure on yourself. Don't worry, your teacher doesn't blame you," Yu Xiaogang said, shaking his head with an air of indifference.
Hearing those words, Tang San was immediately moved, his eyes welling up with gratitude. He completely forgot that the entire reason for his humiliation was the very man now comforting him. This was a testament to Yu Xiaogang's shamelessness.
"You are 'Shrek No. 8,' right?"
A sudden voice came from behind them.
Tang San and Yu Xiaogang both turned around instinctively. Two men dressed entirely in black were standing there quietly. Tang San was completely stunned. He wasn't wearing his mask anymore, and he had changed into a fresh set of clothes. How could they possibly know his codename?
Yu Xiaogang frowned. These two men did not look friendly.
"Who are you?" he asked in a cold voice. Even though Tang San's match was outrageous, it shouldn't have been enough to get him targeted by someone, right? And for them to follow him all the way to the toilet... something wasn't right.
------------------------
For Advance chapters visit : patreon.com/Mythic_Muse