As the audience's excitement mounted, the host gave the order, and the muscular brute in the Sky Arena launched himself at the Asian man opposite him with a Tiger Descends the Mountain!
"Crow Rides the Airplane!"
The muscular brute charged like a tank as he shouted.
The Asian man stood motionless, as if he had been scared senseless. The muscular brute slammed into him with an Iron Mountain Lean, sending him flying. His whole body crashed into the chain-link fence like a ragged old mop.
But before the Asian man could hit the ground, the muscular brute grabbed him by the collar, spun him through the air in an Earth Overhead, and hurled him viciously to the floor. Then he sat on top of him and hammered his head with alternating hooks, raining down concentrated blows!
Bang! Bang! Bang!!!
Each punch was heavier than the last. The Asian man had virtually no power to resist—no, he simply was not resisting at all, passively taking the beating.
Very quickly.
Blood from the Asian man seeped down through the Sky Arena's metal grating. He looked utterly miserable. In just a few seconds, the muscular brute had beaten him so badly his own mother would not have recognized him.
This one-sided scene instantly broke the bettors who had made counterintuitive pre-match wagers. The arena erupted in uproar:
"Fuck your mother! Give me my money back!"
"It's rigged! It's fucking rigged!"
Curses like these rang out without end.
"So noisy."
Wenwu frowned but said nothing more. Instead, he watched the Asian man, who was continuously being beaten and not fighting back at all.
The sound of fists striking flesh blended with the curses of the surrounding spectators.
The blond-haired man standing beside Wenwu began sweating profusely, but he did not dare make any rash