"Causing trouble? Do you see me causing trouble? I haven't moved a hand or a foot. How could I be causing trouble?" Tang Wen spread his hands and said with an innocent look.
"Kid, trying to pull the wool over my eyes? You used magnetic field force. Think I don't know?" Li Liang said, his face stern.
"Well, I had no choice. I'm in a hurry." Tang Wen shrugged and admitted it.
"Too arrogant! Arrest him."
"What's so great about being a level-eight fighter? Director Li, get someone to challenge him."
"He's obviously here to cause trouble. He's already a level-eight fighter, yet he comes to the registration desk. Isn't he blatantly trying to humiliate us?"
In an instant, Tang Wen was sprayed with a faceful of spit.
"If you're a level-eight fighter, why did you come to the newcomer registration desk? You should have reported directly to the Training Office," Li Liang said, his tone immediately softening.
After all, a level-eight fighter was quite good, and this kid looked so young that he probably wasn't over thirty. It was best not to offend him if possible.
"Sorry, everyone. I'm still a newcomer. I haven't even gotten a fighter's license yet, so I came here." Tang Wen cupped his fist toward everyone around him, looking apologetic.
"You don't have a fighter's license?" Even Li Liang was startled, staring blankly at Tang Wen.
"How did you train to become a level-eight fighter without a fighter's license?" asked another clerk beside him, named Zhu Gong.
"I trained on my own," Tang Wen said.
"You reached level eight all on your own? Your talent must be incredible!" someone exclaimed.
"If you could get this far on your own, why come to a boxing gym?" someone asked.
"I've run out of potions lately,