Childhood Friend of the Zenith

Drip.

“Cough.”

Blood poured from Yung Pung’s nose and mouth.

The impact must have been severe—he couldn’t even gather his senses properly.

To make matters worse, he had been sent flying to the edge of the sparring arena.

This meant that if the arena hadn’t been expanded for the main match, unlike during the preliminaries, Yung Pung would have been disqualified on the spot.

‘Damn it.’

I hit him too hard without meaning to.

I didn’t intend to leave him in such a state with one blow, but my fist flew out on instinct.

‘And of all faces, it had to be that one.’

An old man with an unlucky and unpleasant face.

I had only seen him properly once before, but the moment I caught sight of him, my fist lashed out.