"Wuhu, that felt good."
After eating and confirming that his wounds were closing at a visible rate, Lu PingAn headed up to the deck.
This time, everywhere he went drew countless gazes—some filled with vigilance, others offering seemingly friendly greetings. He faced it all calmly. Perhaps this would become the norm in the future.
"How's it going?"
"...Just average. Whether in terms of audience buzz or excitement, they can't compare to your matches."
As he licked yogurt from the lid, Lu PingAn chatted with Wang Hai, who had been watching the matches.
"Heh, not going down there to have some fun?"
As he spoke, Lu PingAn opened a can of fruit and swallowed more than half of it in two bites. He truly needed to replenish his energy and fluids right now.
In this environment, only sealed food and water were even remotely reliable. Who knew how many people were hoping for Lu PingAn to suddenly drop dead?
"Forget it. I know my limits. This is enough for now."
Wang Hai shrugged. After watching Lu PingAn's matches, he had confirmed the gap between them.
He stood absolutely no chance against even Lu PingAn's weakest opponent.
And the match in the arena now was a clash between two members of the Top Sixteen, yet its level of excitement was so low that it made people suspect it was fixed.
It was not that either side lacked strength. They were holding back.
"Don't doubt it. It is a fixed match, or at least a tacitly coordinated one."
Lu PingAn's absurd thirteen consecutive matches had already been carefully selected, with most weaker opponents removed. Otherwise, who knew how many matches he might have been ranked for—dozens, perhaps over a hundred.
But this format also allowed for other challenges to take place. Or rather,