Did you wear diapers this time?

The battle on stage instantly heated up.

Fan Jun no longer held back, a cold glint flashing in his eyes, his swordplay incredibly sharp.

After just a few moves, Chen Qianqian grunted, sent flying backward by his sword, landing heavily and unable to get up.

However, this time, the cheers from the stands were much sparser.

This wasn't because the audience didn't support him, but rather that the killing intent Fan Jun displayed in those brief moments had completely shattered his previously gentle and refined "gentleman" image, leaving many fans feeling both unfamiliar and alarmed.

Looking at Chen Qianqian, who had collapsed on the ground with no power to fight back, the anger in Fan Jun's heart receded like a tide, and reason regained control.

Damn, was my performance just now a bit too much of a character killer?

He took a deep breath, quickly calming himself.

He wasn't lacking money; his primary goal in participating in the Quota Competition wasn't the Exemption Quota.

What he truly needed was to use the highly anticipated stage of the Quota Competition to stage a dramatic scene of "a commoner genius breaking through the blockade of the power elites and struggling to obtain an Exemption Quota." This should have been a perfect opportunity for him to harvest traffic and solidify his persona.

"It's all that Lu Jue's fault!"

The thought of that name made Fan Jun grit his teeth in secret.

If it weren't for Lu Jue's previous match, his fierce counterattack, triggered by being backstabbed, should have been interpreted as the perfect script of "a kind gentleman saving a snake only to be bitten by it, then reflecting on his actions."

Now look at this, compared to him earlier, I've become an immature child?

Fan Jun's gaze quickly swept across the stands, keenly catching the fleeting hesitation in the audience's eyes.

He forcibly suppressed the irritation in his heart and put on his signature smile again, though this time, the smile appeared more deliberate.

He stepped forward, lightly tapping Chen Qianqian's shoulder with the flat of his sword, pushing her off the stage.

This move maintained his victor's posture while barely preserving a shred of "grace."

After doing this, he elegantly sheathed his sword and bowed to the stands.

Since the audience wanted a perfect "gentleman," he would continue to act the part. As for that momentary lapse in composure...

He believed that with a little guidance, his fans would naturally find the perfect explanation for him.

After all, in this world, people often only see what they want to see.

"The victor is Fan Jun!"

As the referee announced, applause erupted from below.

Despite the backstab incident, Fan Jun's carefully cultivated image had taken a hit, but this victory ultimately represented a counterattack by the commoner students against the power elite forces.

However, while the applause was still enthusiastic, it was far from the thunderous roar he received upon his entrance. It was more like polite cheers for completing a task.

Amidst the scattered discussions, some people still compared Fan Jun's "gentlemanly demeanor" to Lu Jue's, but this time, "gentlemanly demeanor" had become a derogatory term...

An hour later, the Sixth Grade arena's Quarterfinals second round concluded, and Lu Jue once again crushed his opponent, Wang Shuai, with overwhelming strength.

However, in the first two rounds of the Sixth Grade Quarterfinals, several participants from commoner backgrounds were severely injured under the relentless onslaught of the power elite forces, forced to give up their qualification for the competition. Very few emerged victorious.

The situation in Group A, where Lu Jue was, was particularly grim. Of the originally few commoner students, only he and Fan Jun remained.

An invisible pressure permeated the air.

Each defeat of a commoner student felt like a heavier stone being placed on everyone's heart. The atmosphere in the audience seats was no longer as fervent as at the beginning, replaced by a sense of heaviness and oppression.

Everyone understood that with every additional commoner player defeated, the remaining ones would face even more brutal attrition battles.

Even before the Quarterfinals were over, could any commoner student truly obtain that precious Exemption Quota?

Just then, the broadcast voice sounded again, clearly transmitted throughout the arena:

"Next match, Lu Jue versus Zhang Yang!"

This announcement was like a boulder dropped into a lake, instantly creating ripples, and discussions erupted from the audience seats.

"Zhang Yang? Did I hear that right? Wasn't his ranking only in the high six hundreds? How did he make it to the third round of the Quarterfinals?"

"Heh, do you even need to guess? They must have pulled some strings! This Quota Competition, open to commoners, is simply a joke!"

"Damn it! This is too unfair! If he had gotten a little luckier and didn't have to face Lu Jue, wouldn't he have gotten a quota with his strength of over six hundred?"

"What can you do, they have money and power..."

Under the gaze of countless eyes, Zhang Yang stepped onto the stage with heavy steps.

Facing Lu Jue, his feelings were complex and indescribable.

The memory of his public embarrassment that day was still vivid, making him feel utterly ashamed every time he thought of it.

Because of this, he spared no expense, pulling strings everywhere and spending a fortune to bribe officials, all in order to obtain an Exemption Quota and save some face.

His journey so far had been smooth sailing. Except for the first two rounds of the preliminaries, all his opponents either voluntarily surrendered or clearly held back, allowing him to easily reach the third round of the Quarterfinals.

However, fate seemed to have played a cruel joke on him. Of all people to encounter, he had to face Lu Jue, the one he least wanted to confront.

Facing the opponent who had caused him such profound humiliation, he found he couldn't even muster the courage to draw his sword.

But then, he felt a sliver of relief.

As a scion of the Power Elites, he naturally didn't need to exhaust his opponent's stamina like Jiang Youwei and Chen Qianqian. If he couldn't win, he would simply surrender.

Just as he took a deep breath, ready to announce his surrender, Lu Jue saw through his intentions.

"Classmate Zhang Yang! Did you wear a diaper this time?"

His clear voice echoed across half the arena, and some of the students who knew what was going on couldn't help but let out suppressed snickers.

"You!"

Zhang Yang's face turned ashen. "Lu Jue, don't get cocky. One day, I'll make you beg me on your knees!"

"Why wait for 'one day'? How about we settle it right now!"

"Heh, you can't provoke me. Fight you? I'm afraid I'll dirty my hands!"

Hearing this, Lu Jue knew the guy intended to surrender, so he deliberately raised his voice, making sure every word carried clearly to the entire audience:

"How about this? As long as your sword touches me, even just the corner of my clothes, I'll consider it a loss! What do you say?"

The entire crowd erupted in an uproar.

"Take the fight!"

"Zhang Yang, if you're a man, go for it!"

"You don't even dare to do that!?"

"Hahaha, hearing this makes me want to try it myself!"

Amidst the deafening jeers, Zhang Yang let out a series of cold laughs.

"Heh, I still choose not to fight!"

As he said this, he slightly lifted his chin, striking a pose of wise decision-making. In his eyes, this wasn't cowardice, but the wisdom of assessing the situation.

What a joke!

Lu Jue wouldn't just stand there and let him hit him. The thought of getting punched by him, remembering that stone statue from earlier, sent shivers down his spine.

Just as he turned to formally signal his forfeiture to the referee, his peripheral vision inadvertently caught sight of Zhao He in the stands.

The other's gaze was like a tangible blade, freezing him instantly in place.