"We won?"
Standing rooted to the spot, he watched the scene inside the octagonal cage.
Zhou Qiang was in a daze, muttering to himself.
On the second-floor corridor, Chen Junhao's brow finally relaxed. His gaze lingered for a second on the fallen, grievously injured Ge Tao, before finally landing on Lu Chao, who was slowly straightening up, pulling back his fists.
'This kid…'
A faint smile touched his lips as the tense muscles in his right hand slowly relaxed.
He flicked open the metal lighter in his hand, pulled a cigarette from his pocket, and leisurely lit it.
He exhaled a plume of smoke that drifted upwards.
Chen Junhao looked toward the stage, at Liu Hong, whose expression was so grim it looked like it could drip water.
"Since we won the second match."
His tone was level as he surveyed the entire bar, his gaze sweeping over the shocked and uncertain faces of the Iron Blood Gang members.
"So, let's hear it."
"Who do you plan to send out for the final match?"
