The World's Number One Martial Arts Tournament.
The arena.
Out of respect for the Martial Artists, most of them only had to compete in one match a day.
Even so, there were occasional reports of Martial Artists suffering injuries on both sides and having no choice but to withdraw in dejection.
It was said that, outside the arena, the betting pools for the various Martial Artists had already surpassed those of any other international sporting event. Martial arts alone stood supreme.
Of course, the odds on first place were very low, with most bets placed on Tang Long.
But aside from that, people could also bet on who would take second or third place, make the semifinals, quarterfinals, or round of sixteen, as well as on how many matches an individual would win or lose.
Today, Zhong Shenxiu's opponent was Li San of Flower Fist from Group D.
Li San practiced the Hundred Flower Fist, a major school of southern boxing. Though his name sounded somewhat effeminate, his killing moves emerged one after another, dazzling in their brilliance.
Furthermore, he was one of the three titans of the Friend Circle. Zhong Shenxiu had run into him right after making his debut, and had begun to sense the deep malice lurking behind the organizers.
Click! Click!
Countless cameras flashed at once. Along the passage leading to the arena, a large number of reporters and paparazzi crowded around, only to be held back outside by Bai Yu and her bodyguards.
At last, Zhong Shenxiu stepped onto the arena and felt the enthusiastic cheers of more than a hundred thousand spectators around him.
"Kid, I, Li San, am going to teach you a good lesson today and let you know the price of mouthing off."
Li San cracked his knuckles, his expression icy.