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... anced over at the competitors in Ground B.
Pathetic.
"They’re nothing in front of me," he muttered under his breath, arms crossed, chin tilted ever so slightly upward—like a king surveying peasants pretending to be knights.
Just a few minutes ago, he had won his first match without so much as breaking a sweat. No injuries, no challenge. His opponent hadn’t even landed a single proper hit before crumbling under his pressure.
Too easy.
It wasn’t arrogance. A ...
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