"Is your master that kind of person?"
The burly beggar flushed with anger. He barked a rebuke, raised his foot, and kicked.
The young beggar went pale. He tried to dodge, but no matter what he did, he could not get out of the way. He could only watch as the burly beggar's foot slammed into his backside.
"Master, save me a chicken leg!"
The young beggar felt himself lift off the ground and arc straight toward the Arena where Qin Hao stood on the Plaza.
Even as he flew through the air, the young beggar kept shouting at the burly beggar, his eyes fixed on the roast chicken in the man's hands.
"You little brat." The burly beggar laughed and cursed. After a moment's hesitation, he tore off one chicken leg and set it aside, then happily tucked into the rest of the bird.
"Smells wonderful." The burly beggar beamed.
"Ahhh! Who's going up there to end Qin Hao's winning streak? He's only four matches away from forty straight wins!"
"I'd like to, but he'd probably beat me with one strike."
"Don't go up unless you're sure you can win. You'd only hand him another victory."
"I reckon only a Saint Martial Grandmaster can stop him now!"
The crowd on the Plaza surged with excitement. Many stared at Qin Hao, wishing he would lose at once so they could win Fang Lang's Spirit Stones.
Fang Lang, meanwhile, was grinning from ear to ear.
"Qin Hao, hang in there! You have to hang in there! Show these people what a Peerless Genius from the Southern Reach can do!" Fang Lang cheered at the top of his lungs.
"Shut up!"
"Little Fatty, don't get smug. Qin Hao's bound to lose any moment now..."
"Exactly. I can't stand that obnoxious look