Young Master Shuang Ming's call with Iron Mask consisted of only one sentence. Once the instructions had been delivered, the hall fell silent again.
"Senior Colonel Wang, gatekeeper to the Ancient World... I'm truly sincere, but this threshold is rather tiresome."
After sighing, Shuang Ming thought for a moment and swiped a hand through the air. Another light screen appeared.
This time, a figure clad in a black cloak appeared properly on the light screen.
"Young Master Shuang Ming." A deep voice sounded.
"The game continues. Win or lose, speed up the competition."
"Yes."
The higher one stood, the harder one fell.
When someone climbed to the summit of the clouds, only to be thrown into the mud in a single day, what kind of reaction would they have?
Thinking about it carefully, it was rather something to look forward to.
At that thought, Shuang Ming smiled and walked out gracefully with his hands behind his back.
Turning his hand brought clouds; overturning it brought rain. That was all there was to it.
The match ended.
Before Fa Chiyu, Jixing Academy's supervisor, could send a signal, the medical personnel outside the arena had already rushed over.
Yet what inspired admiration was that Two-Faced Buddha, pinned to the ground, actually forced himself to stand despite his body having been pierced through, refusing the so-called rescue.
The Jixing Academy students watched that swaying back with silent yet immense admiration.
Even under such circumstances, Remington still maintained his final shred of dignity. How could anyone not admire him?
But when the severely damaged Two-Faced Buddha reached the preparation hall, the mecha could no longer endure and crashed to its knees.
The hatch sprang open.
A figure stumbled out from within, falling and rolling onto the lift platform.
Two ordinary-looking staff members had