The air in the Colosseum was scorching, thick with the smell of blood.
On the massive LED screens, information for the next match scrolled into view.
[Next Match!]
[Dragon Nation Team VS Congo Team]
When "Dragon Nation Team" appeared, murmurs rippled through both the audience and competitor viewing areas.
"Dragon Nation Team? I know Dragon Nation, but I've never heard of this team."
"Seems like a new squad. Think they showed up in qualifiers, but nothing memorable."
"Captain's named Cloud? Don't know him. Probably another tourist team here to pad the numbers."
Against powerhouses like the Fatal Fury Team, Art of Fighting Team, and Japan Team, the unfamiliar name "Dragon Nation Team" seemed utterly unremarkable.
But in the competitor viewing area, Terry, Mai, Yuri, and the others wore expressions of curiosity and anticipation.
"Cloud's team is finally making their official debut!" Yuri pumped her fists excitedly.
"Hmph, I want to see what those two 'hidden masters' he dug up from who-knows-where can actually do." Mai's tone remained tsundere, but her beautiful eyes fixed unblinkingly on the competitor tunnel.
Terry stroked his chin, grinning: "Anyone that kid chose as teammates definitely isn't ordinary. This match is gonna be interesting."
...
Under countless watchful eyes, both teams emerged from opposite tunnels and ascended to the ring.
The Congo Team consisted of three African warriors built like black iron towers.
Bare-chested, bodies painted with mysterious patterns, muscles bulging, their eyes blazed with primal wildness and battle-hunger—clearly seasoned tribal warriors.
On the other side, the "Dragon Nation Team's" aesthetic was... indescribable.
Captain Cloud wore a black combat outfit, looking appropriately heroic—fitting for a fighter.
But his two teammates...
One wore a crimson Flying Fish uniform with a Spring-Autumn blade at his waist. His face was cold, eyes hawkish, his entire being radiating "You are all traitors and rebels" iron-blooded killing intent. A vicious scar ran across his face.
The other was a girl in a loose panda-themed hoodie, long black hair reaching her waist, face expressionless, eyes vacant, holding... a kitchen knife and a rolling pin?!
What the hell was this?!
One looked like a Ming Dynasty imperial guard who'd time-traveled here. The other looked like a culinary school dropout!
The three standing together created maximum dissonance!
The audience erupted in laughter.
"Hahaha! What kind of freak-show combo is this? A cosplay team?"
"Is that uncle here to arrest people or compete? And that girl—is she going to demonstrate noodle-making on stage?"
"I bet Congo finishes them in thirty seconds!"
Facing the mockery, Cloud's trio remained unmoved.
Cloud even had the leisure to throw a flirtatious look at Mai and Yuri in the viewing area.
Commander Zuo stood with eyes closed, as if the surrounding noise was beneath his notice. To him, these barbarians' clamor was less pleasant than cicadas in his backyard.
Baobao tilted her head, curiously examining the three paint-covered men across from them. She turned and quietly asked Cloud in her emotionless Sichuan dialect:
"Boss, why do those dummies have their faces painted like Beijing opera masks? Are they... gonna sing?"
Cloud: "..."
He felt his blood pressure spiking again.
...
"First round! Dragon Nation Team's Zuo Qianhu versus Congo Team's Mbappé!"
At the announcer's command, Commander Zuo slowly walked to center ring.
His opponent was the tallest, most muscular Congo warrior—over seven feet tall, muscles looking carved from granite.
Mbappé beat his chest and roared like a beast, trying to overwhelm this seemingly lean Eastern man with sheer presence.
Commander Zuo merely opened his eyes slowly.
In that instant, an indescribable, almost tangible iron-blooded killing intent EXPLODED!
This was murderous will forged in mountains of corpses and seas of blood—the supreme killing intent of a demon-slayer!
The entire arena's temperature seemed to plummet several degrees!
The crowd that had been roaring fell instantly silent, as if invisible hands had seized their throats!
Mbappé's roar died in his throat. He felt like an ancient primordial beast had locked onto him as prey. Every muscle in his body seized up. Cold sweat poured down instantly.
In the viewing area, top-tier fighters like Terry, Ryo, and Kyo all changed expression!
"Such... such terrifying killing intent!" Terry's gaze turned unprecedentedly grave.
"This aura... no ordinary fighter could possess it! This man has killed! Hundreds, maybe thousands!" Ryo's body tensed instinctively.
DING!
The starting bell rang.
Mbappé bellowed, forcibly suppressing his fear, his heavy feet pounding forward like a runaway freight train charging at Commander Zuo!
Facing this wall-shattering charge, Commander Zuo neither dodged nor retreated.
The instant before collision—he moved.
His figure blurred like a specter, leaving an afterimage in place.
The next second, he was at Mbappé's flank!
Not fast—uncanny. As if he'd folded space itself, ignoring distance entirely!
Mbappé's heavy fist struck empty air. His massive momentum made him stumble.
Commander Zuo slowly raised his right hand, two fingers extended like a sword. At his fingertips coiled a faint layer of visible white energy!
"Evil-Slaying: One-Finger Zen!"
His finger shot out—silent, lightning-fast, unerringly precise—striking beneath Mbappé's ribs!
THUMP!
A muffled impact.
Mbappé's massive body shuddered. His expression froze.
Then his proud, rock-hard muscles began deflating rapidly, like a punctured balloon!
An invisible force detonated inside him!
"BLEGH—!"
Mbappé vomited a spray of blood, his entire body flying backward like a kite with its string cut, crashing heavily to the ground. He lay motionless, unconscious.
One move!
Instant kill!
The entire arena fell deathly silent.