Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Startling New Fashion

"Then let me be the first to go on stage tomorrow!" Feng Shang patted his chest confidently.

"The pressure's not small for the first match. Are you up for it?" Fang Zhe asked.

"It's the semifinals, right? As long as three of us win, we advance. Even if I lose as the first up, you guys are still behind me!" Feng Shang declared with great confidence.

"That's true," Mao Xuanzi said with a gentle smile and a nod.

"Look, everyone, our cool and stoic guy has actually smiled twice! See? That's my charm at work!" Feng Shang teased, seizing on Mao Xuanzi's expression.

Everyone burst into laughter once again.

"Since Feng Shang will go first, I'll take the second round," Fang Zhe volunteered.

"Then Han Tianyue, you’ll be the anchor!" Mao Xuanzi was not to be outdone and claimed the third spot.

With the order set, Instructor Song felt relieved, watching the four of them chat and laugh together, feeling quite gratified as he turned to leave.

Once Instructor Song had gone, Mao Xuanzi spoke earnestly, "We will definitely make it to the end!"

"You're that sure?" Han Tianyue responded, just as serious.

Mao Xuanzi smiled again. "Because I know the rules inside."

It sounded like a joke, but Han Tianyue took it to heart.

Mao Xuanzi added, "All jokes aside, it still comes down to ability."

So the four of them chatted and laughed all the way to the next day as they entered the arena. As expected, Han Tianyue's team did not run into the Legendary Squad. The team that did draw the Legendary Squad simply forfeited, letting the legends enter the finals without even warming up.

Such good fortune did not fall to Han Tianyue's group.

"Hello!" On the stage, their opponent greeted them.

Feng Shang, first up, returned the greeting. "Hello!"

"Let's introduce ourselves," the opponent suggested.

"My name is Dali," he said.

"Dali?" Han Tianyue was not unfamiliar with the name. "He’s also called Dali?"

"You know him?" Fang Zhe, standing to the side, asked when he heard this.

Han Tianyue shook his head. The Dali he knew was a ghost—in fact, a member of the ghost clan who had formally joined their ranks.

After Feng Shang announced his own name, the call came from the sidelines: "Begin!"

With a sharp sound, Feng Shang’s tempest struck with blinding speed. The opponent, caught unprepared, was blown clear off the stage.

"Feng Shang wins!"

Everything happened so suddenly. Dali shouted his grievance, "Not fair! I wasn’t ready!"

The referee declared, "I already said begin. If you’re knocked out after the start, it means you’ve lost!"

Dali was clearly a man of immense strength, but Feng Shang's swift attack had caught him off guard, blowing him from the stage. It might not have been the most honorable victory, but by the rules, Feng Shang had won.

Fang Zhe held out his fist. "Nice one, Feng Shang!"

"Turns out I’m pretty awesome after all!" Feng Shang strode off the stage, head held high.

Dali, furious, tried to rush forward, but was restrained by his own instructor.

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