District Eight's city gate.
When Xia Ping reached the gate, he immediately noticed that quite a few students had gathered there. Almost none of them were uninjured; every last one looked battered and beaten.
Some had been struck on the forehead, their faces swollen and sporting a pair of black eyes. Others had broken arms or fractured thighs. In short, they looked as miserable as could be.
The students supported one another as they slowly made their way out through the gate, looking almost like refugees.
"Uh..." The staff near the gate could only stare in speechless disbelief, their mouths twitching. They had held many editions of the High School Fighting Tournament, but this one was by far the most brutal. Nearly everyone was injured.
And these weren't minor injuries, either. They were all serious, the kind inflicted by people who were trying to beat each other to death.
"Holy crap, isn't that Xia Ping?"
"How come he hasn't been beaten to death yet? He's actually come out looking perfectly fine!"
"Look at his eyes, look at his complexion. He's so rosy. It looks like he got a good night's sleep and had a nice, relaxing time."
"Damn it, we spent all night being hunted and fighting each other. Who knows how many people ended up in the hospital, while this guy ate and drank well, then slept through the night?!"
When the other students saw Xia Ping walk out through the gate, they all turned to look at him. Their eyes were filled with such intense resentment that they looked ready to rush over and bite him to death.
"What's the matter? Why are you all staring at me? It's not like we're close. But what happened to you? Did I come to the wrong place? Is this some