The last two weeks of the year had arrived.
Baimu's travels took him to every corner of Orre.
He felt like a star on tour. Wherever he went, security cleared the way and thousands of fans lined the streets to welcome him.
He would open his mouth and call out—
"Hello, everyone in ×××!!"
That was his opening line almost every time. Shan Ren had prepared everything he would say afterward, too.
A fall from grace?
He was a Champion who had fought his way to the top. What fall from grace?
Most fans didn't care much what he said. They were happy just to see Baimu appear with Aggron and the others.
It made Aggron and the others feel like zoo attractions, with Baimu as their handler.
There was one bright side.
Shan Ren had arranged plenty of exhibition matches, greatly shortening the simulation countdown's cooldown.
Amid all the bustle,
Baimu couldn't help wondering whether Steven and the others had done this sort of thing too.
The answer was that each region promoted its Champions differently. Shan Ren had copied Galar's approach...
By then, it was too late to back out.
"One month means one month. Not a day more, not a day less."
"...You win! Where are we going today?"
"Prison."
"Huh?"
Orre Southeastern Prison.
Desert and wasteland surrounded it on all sides. It was the only area Calyrex's power had never blessed.
Many familiar faces were held there.
Among them was Cang Zhilang, the Sand Group boss who had treated Baimu well.
Several years had passed.
He was still sturdy, but he had aged considerably and lost both legs.
Only a glass window separated Baimu from him.
"I knew you'd make something of yourself."
Cang Zhilang said it without the slightest hint of pride or sentiment. There