Yo, isn't that my Brother Dao?
Li Ang's eyes lit up. He found a front-row seat and sat down to watch.
The Sky Dueling Field had only been open for a few days. The competitors on the first level weren't necessarily pushovers; they were likely players who had just started climbing the tower, so there were quite a few spectators.
Below the square ring, staff mbers were responsible for the live broadcast. High up on the arena platforms, two narrators in suits comnted on the situation—these individuals were all mbers of The Watcher Organization, running the event broadcast with professional finesse.
BUZZ—
The matrix of four LCD screens above the arena lit up simultaneously, displaying the two narrators.
A burly, blond man wearing a purple vest, blue suit, and a black-and-white bicolor bowler hat spoke in a magnetic voice, "Hello, friends in the audience! When you think of a great narrator, you think of . And I am that great narrator: Robert E. O. Spitervagen."
"I'm Abdel, the chicken vendor," a similarly bulky, dark-skinned man with short, thick braids, spoke in English with a peculiar accent. "And for today's match, we will be your comntators!"
Damn, where did they find two people so perfect for the roles? They're actually famous narrators!
Li Ang watched the two narrators on the large LCD screen, an eye twitching.
It has to be said, the costic surgery industry in this Slaughter Ga is advanced; any look can be achieved and then reverted to the original. If this technology could be promoted in the TV and film industry, at the very least, live-action adaptations of comics might look a bit better...
"At this very mont," Spitervagen said energetically, "standing on Platform A of the Sky Dueling Field's first level are our two contestants! Their nas are Ogun Mula!"
The cara imdiately focused on the one-ard strongman wearing a burlap mask.
A cheer erupted from below the arena. Li Ang turned to see a few dark-skinned players in the corner of the hall, smiling and applauding.
"And the Passionate Swordsman!"
The cara swiveled to Wanli Fengdao, his sowhat disdainful and lazy expression clearly displayed on the LCD screen.
"BOOS!"
The players in the corner imdiately started jeering at Wanli Fengdao, while the others in the hall showed little reaction.
"Both contestants are competing for the first ti today, and they have both shared a portion of their player profiles with the broadcast team," Spitervagen announced loudly and enthusiastically. "Contestant Ogun Mula cos from the Voodoo Black Witch Clan. Before joining the Black Witch Clan, he was only 1.5 ters tall, skinny, and ek. After joining, however, his body size surged! He now stands at 2.32 ters, weighs 210 kilograms, and dares to throw heavy punches at any enemy. The giant teor hamr attached to his hand can easily smash through the frontal armor of a main battle tank, and his muscular body fears no bombardnt. The Voodoo Black Witch Clan—impressive!"
The two players on the stage had agreed to have their match broadcast, allowing the production team to televise it under certain conditions. They could either charge the production team a fee or request that the comntary highlight them personally or their affiliated organization, essentially getting so advertising.
"Yes, just looking at the teor hamr in contestant Ogun Mula's hands, I feel waves of fear wash over ," the second narrator, Abdel, nodded and said gravely. "And his opponent today, the Passionate Swordsman, is a bounty hunter from the East.
A silver saddle gleams on a white horse, swift as a shooting star.
Kill one man in ten steps, leave not a trace in a thousand miles.
Do you hear it? The buzzing of his blade in its scabbard—that is its cry, a thirst for blood..."
Isn't that a bit too over-the-top?!
Li Ang couldn't help but smack his lips. Players participating in the arena match had the right to dictate their introductions by the broadcast team, so this segnt was probably Little Brother Dao's own creation.
Indeed, Wanli Fengdao was as reservedly ostentatious as ever.
At that mont, a young man happened to be pushing a food cart through the spectator aisles. He wore a red and white uniform with the large letters "KMH" emblazoned on the chest.
KMH belonged to a restaurant called Ken McDonald's Restaurant, which had its own dedicated storefront on the Ga Square and enjoyed a substantial flow of custors—the na Ken McDonald's Restaurant appeared to be a hybrid of three real-world hamburger chains.
As Ken McDonald's Restaurant held a business license for the Ga Square, a semi-transparent logo floated above the heads of their delivery boys to ensure food safety.
"Waiter."
Li Ang snapped his fingers, and the delivery boy wheeled the cart over. Li Ang took out several green chips from his backpack inventory and handed them to the delivery boy.
Food on the Ga Square was naturally much more expensive than in the real world. The Global Occult Coalition and other official organizations, to facilitate transactions for shops and players and to reduce the outflow of Ga Currency, introduced a special type of chip that was difficult to counterfeit. These chips could be exchanged for Ga Currency or real-world money at the Supernatural Alliance, with different colored chips having different exchange rates.
Li Ang grabbed so junk food from the cart, munching as he listened to the two narrators finish their pre-match hype.
"Alright, that concludes the analysis of our two contestants' abilities. Without further ado, let's begin today's most anticipated match!"
As Spitervagen spoke, huge numbers began counting down above the stage.
10, 9, 8...
The One-ard Giant, Ogun Mula, cracked his neck, a clear snapping sound resonating.
Wanli Fengdao, however, yawned disdainfully, his hand lightly resting on the hilt of the Dragon-Slaying Sword.
4, 3, 2...
Li Ang lowered his head slightly and took a gulp of his iced soda, his curious gaze wandering between the two contestants.
Little Brother Dao is certainly not weak; after all, he's a renowned Bounty Hunter in the circuit. But his opponent is equally formidable. Just looking at his physique, one can tell he's not to be taken lightly, not to ntion he's a mber of the Voodoo Black Witch Clan—this mid-sized Secret Society is adept at using dark and unpredictable Spells, making them exceedingly hard to guard against.
1!
The mont the countdown ended, Wanli Fengdao grinned and gripped his sword hilt.
Then, he vanished.
"What happened?!" the Narrator, Spitervagen, exclaid in shock. "Dear audience, did you see that? The Passionate Swordsman contestant just disappeared! I can't even see his movents! Did he use so kind of invisibility skill?!"
The cara smoothly panned, giving a close-up of the silent One-ard Giant who remained standing, then tilted to an overhead view, showing the audience that only one person was left on the stage.
"No, the Passionate Swordsman contestant hasn't vanished!" the second narrator, Abdel, furrowed his brows and suddenly shouted, "Did you notice? The wind on the stage!"
The cara and sound crews swiftly adjusted their equipnt. Only then did the audience notice that a wind had arisen on the stage. Its sound grew from a whisper to a roar, transforming from a gentle breeze into a raging Gale, shifting from soft and mild to angry and violent.
An invisible wind enveloped the stage.
Without any warning, several deep wounds suddenly appeared on the motionless One-ard Giant—on his thigh, his solitary arm, his neck, his nape...
Dark red blood gushed out freely, splattering across the stone bricks of the stage and staining the One-ard Giant's burlap hood with crimson dots.
"WHAT THE—?!"
Narrator Spitervagen then called out in an exaggerated tone, "Without any warning, contestant Ogun Mula has been seriously wounded! Was this the work of the Passionate Swordsman? How did he do it?!"
Li Ang arched an eyebrow, quietly sipping his cola.
Little Brother Dao has improved quite a bit. Quite interesting indeed.
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