Recommendation Tickets, please.
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The spectator stands were like a boiling furnace, cheers and applause gathering into waves of sound that shook the dome.
A slightly plump, plainly dressed middle-aged man, wrapped in a half-worn brownish-yellow fur coat, was squeezed into a corner of the back rows in the western section.
In his left hand, he held a greasy meat pie and was chewing with relish, crumbs stuck to his stubble, his face shiny with oil. He looked every inch a glutton obsessed with the pleasures of food.
Every so often, he even excitedly waved his oily right hand along with the shouting around him, his murky eyes filled with feverish worship for the powerful figures on the field—no different from any ordinary spectator beside him, all passion and mediocre strength.
As his right hand waved, inside the cuff of that greasy sleeve, seemingly smeared with meat juice and grime, a thumb-sized, flawless and translucent "Myriad Phenomena Dust-Peering Crystal" was quietly attached.
This crystal had to be activated with special Soul Power. It could let one's gaze pierce through layers of distance and walls of people to focus on a single point. More importantly—it cut off all probing Soul Power echoes, like an invisible one-way mirror.
At this moment, the faint light flowing deep within the crystal reflected in his left eye, his field of vision precisely locking onto Chen Xinyi as she walked toward the VIP Passage a hundred paces away.
Her complexion was too translucent: the skin on the side of her neck showed an unnatural clarity, the thin gauze unable to hide the faintly raised bluish veins beneath. It was not the pallor of fatigue or blood loss, but more like jade-like cracks left after being scoured by the