Cheers of victory surged like a tide, yet they seemed separated by an invisible barrier, distant and blurred. All of Xiao Xiaoxiao's senses were fixed on the swaying figure before her.
Tang San's back was a complete mess. Charred fabric clung to torn, curled flesh, with the pale white of his shoulder blade faintly visible beneath. Everything below his right elbow was blackened, his skin cracked and giving off the sickening stench of burned flesh. His face was pale as paper, blood continually spilling from the corner of his lips. His body trembled faintly from the paralysis of the powerful current and the excruciating pain, yet he remained standing through sheer force of will.
"Xiao San!" Dai Mubai was the first to rush over. At the sight of Tang San's injuries, his tiger-like eyes instantly turned bloodshot, and even his voice trembled.
Xiao Wu, Zhu Zhuqing, Ning Rongrong, Oscar, and Ma Hongjun gathered around as well. Seeing Tang San's miserable state, every one of them turned pale, their eyes full of fury and lingering fear.
"Quick! A stretcher! A healing-type Soul Master!" Master's cold voice carried an almost imperceptible tremor as he barked the order. Flender and Zhao Wuji had already rushed onto the arena and carefully supported Tang San.
Xiao Xiaoxiao stood where she was, her limbs ice-cold. She watched as Tang San was carefully placed on the stretcher, watched his brows knot tightly in pain, watched his charred right arm hang limply at his side... Her mind kept replaying the image of him stepping in front of her without hesitation and taking that devastating lightning head-on.
In that moment, he had not hesitated at all.
Why?
The question was like a sharp thorn piercing deeply into her heart, bringing waves of suffocating pain. Was it for the team?