Lin Wan's gaze remained calm.
His sea-blue pupils seemed especially profound amid the dark crimson vortex of killing intent, like the calm surface of the sea on a stormy night. Let the winds howl and the waves rage; he remained unmoved.
Around the vast arena, the numerous fallen ones watching in the stands were silent under the influence of the immense killing intent emanating from him.
Some instinctively stepped back, their backs striking the cold walls.
Others gripped the armrests of their seats tightly, their knuckles turning white from the force.
Still others lowered their heads, not daring to meet the gaze of the figure at the center of the arena.
Killing intent and strength were not necessarily proportional. Slaughter City had no shortage of madmen whose killing intent soared to the heavens despite their mediocre strength.
But at this moment, Lin Wan was an opponent no one in Slaughter City wished to face.
Because his killing intent had been forged through real slaughter.
One hundred matches, hundreds of opponents, all turned into corpses.
More importantly, he was another person in all these years to achieve a hundred consecutive victories.
The last person to accomplish that feat had now become a legend of Slaughter City.
And that person had already left this place, entered the outside world, and become an existence feared by the entire continent.
Now, another had appeared.
In the stands, the fallen ones who were usually mad, bloodthirsty, and regarded human lives as worthless were now filled with excitement and worship.
They knew that from this day onward, this young man codenamed "White Fox" would no longer be someone they could covet, challenge, or dream of killing and replacing someday.
He had already reached a height they could never attain.
"Cough..."
Lin Wan coughed softly, spitting out