Lin Yan's opponent was a burly Muay Thai fighter.
He was covered in bronze muscle, with vicious eyes and thick calluses on his elbows and knees. One glance was enough to tell he was a hardened veteran of countless fights.
On the betting terminals, the odds on Lin Yan were still pitifully low.
The shock of his earth-shattering palm strike in the previous match still lingered, and the bookmakers dared not make any rash moves.
But after Gon and Killua's "bizarre" performances in the last two matches, some sharp-eyed gamblers had begun to hesitate, causing a slight fluctuation in the odds.
Lin Yan's task was to turn that tiny ripple into a towering wave.
Clang!
The bell rang.
The burly Muay Thai fighter made no attempt to test him. He opened with a powerful high roundhouse kick that swept toward Lin Yan's neck, howling as it tore through the air.
If that kick landed cleanly, it could knock an ordinary person's head clean off.
Gasps rose from the stands.
Yet faced with this lethal strike, Lin Yan's movements seemed rather "sluggish."
He looked as though the fighter's ferocity had scared him stiff. Only when the gust from the kick reached his face did he barely lean backward.
The roundhouse swept past, practically grazing the tip of his nose, its fierce wind tousling his hair.
"That was close!"
"So close! Just a hair away!"
The spectators' hearts leaped into their throats.
Having leaned back too far, Lin Yan seemed to lose his balance. He staggered two steps backward, looking utterly bedraggled.
When his kick missed, the vicious gleam in the Muay Thai fighter's eyes intensified.
He gave Lin Yan no chance to catch his breath. Jerking his knee upward, he launched himself into the air-a lethal Muay Thai move, the neck-clinch