The Close-Quarters Killer

Jiang Xiao's words fell, and the Martial Arts Arena fell silent.

To be honest, Jiang Xiao lacked confidence—not in his strength, of course, but in whether his Russian was standard enough for these children to understand him.

After all, Konkkinder had its own language, and Russian was only their second language.

However, judging from the indignant expressions on some of the students' faces, at least some of them had understood him.

Jiang Xiao deeply regretted not bringing a knife. There were plenty stored in the Calamity Shadow Ruins, but when he came here, he had been rushing to catch a flight back to the imperial capital before transferring here. Thus, he hadn't taken one out along the way.

Otherwise, pointing a knife at their noses would probably have had a better effect. Jiang Xiao noticed that although every one of them looked furious and deeply dissatisfied, these children still had a "backbone." The young man with the extremely gloomy expression was clearly one of them.

Jiang Xiao laughed instead and said, "Not just anyone is qualified to challenge me. Call out your strongest! The loser eats dirt!"

Jiang Xiao stumbled over the last four words and failed to translate them properly. In the end, he had to lower the saying several levels and translate it literally: "The loser eats dirt." Somehow, it just didn't have quite the same flavor. After all, in Huaxia, it wasn't only losers who ate dirt. Ordinary people who worked, went to school, and lived their lives ate lavish meals for the first three days after payday, then ate dirt for the remaining twenty-seven.

A girl jumped up and cursed, pointing at Jiang Xiao's nose as she launched into a tirade: "Where did you come from, you brat!? How dare you cause trouble at Minoa University!?