Suppression

"Dragon Might Combat Technique?"

"Nine out of ten people who practice that shitty combat technique fail!"

"If it weren't for the low success rate, do you think that thing would be ranked among the Five-Star Combat Techniques?"

In the ring, the horse-face-masked sequencer raised his right hand to cover his eyes, not daring to look into Zhang Xuezhou's eyes at all.

He flailed wildly with his left hand, trying to sweep it into Zhang Xuezhou's body.

From the voices below the ring, he had already understood why he had lost.

But he couldn't find a way to counter it.

His opponent practiced a Five-Star Combat Technique, but that combat technique was classified as five-star solely because its success rate was so low.

In terms of power, the Dragon Might Combat Technique was at least four-star, perhaps even higher.

In other words, he was currently fighting across ranks.

No one wanted to lose. For someone like him, who had come into contact with the extraordinary but lacked a family's backing and resources, fighting in matches provided by underground organizations had become almost his only way out.

He let out a series of low roars, swinging and striking wildly around the ring.

Across from the horse-face-masked sequencer, Zhang Xuezhou ran around the ring, dodging in disarray.

His head was still a little muddled.

The people behind the scenes had most likely arranged for his opponent to lose, but even though his opponent was throwing wild haymakers, he still couldn't fend them off.

He could naturally see how disordered the horse-face-masked sequencer's punches were. Having seen a great deal, Zhang Xuezhou could even tell that his opponent was like a spent arrow at the end of its flight.

If Zhang Manqian were in the ring, one kick would have been enough to