"Skull Crusher, pick up your sledgehammer! Blast that savage head! A drunk shouted.

Mr. Iron Fist! Crush his balls! An old woman with lost teeth said.

The shouts of the crowd reached their peak at this moment, and everyone stood up and applauded the champion of the Blood Arena.

The indigenous warrior Uuzullah Achimpeng pursed his thick lips,

Feeling that he had been despised by the home crowd, he urinated in the middle of the field to show his displeasure, which immediately drew shouts and boos from the audience.

"Kill this gringo!" An audience member shouted.

Mr. Tekken was not affected by the extremely emotional scene in front of him.

He just inhales calmly, then exhales,

Breathe deep again and again to force yourself to calm down, and your blood-red eyes watch the other person's movements through the observation hole of the helmet.

He had long been accustomed to the noise of the arena,

The air was filled with the stench of sweat emitted by tens of thousands of people, and the stench of the corpses of the gladiator victims, and he had already seen through it, and the duel competition was a vulgar show with no moral limits.

There are no rules other than the prohibition of firearms, and it doesn't matter how dirty the means are, as long as you can win

"Woohoo!"

Without warning, the indigenous warrior Uuzullah Achimpong suddenly howled and attacked.

I saw him pull out a turquoise bamboo pipe and blow it hard, and a sinister and deadly quenched dart flew quickly.

Mr. Ironfist saw it clearly, and turned sideways to easily block it with his arm armor.

"Takula Matata!"

Uuzullah shouted the battle cry of the jungle tribe and rushed over.

The native spear in his hand flew up and down like a deadly cobra, searching for gaps in his opponent's armor.

(It's amazing, it's such a fast move, no wonder this guy can beat strong opponents all the way to the finals.) ）

Marveling at the strength of his opponent, Mr. Tekken was so focused on each attack that his armor was already soaked in sweat.

With a "whoosh", the tip of the spear stabbed at the neck,

Mr. Tekken ducked his head to dodge, and then heard a cacophony of metal scraping, and he struck a blow into his opponent's knee, which he easily avoided with a nimble backjump.

(Like the poison blow arrow just now, the tip of the spear is also green, apparently also quenched with deadly rainforest poison, and it will be over if it is stabbed, and it will have to be dealt with with with extra care.) ）

The indigenous warrior Uuzullah kept running around in circles, trying to find an opportunity, but he couldn't break through the gladiators' impregnable defenses.

The opponent was not equipped with a shield, but adopted an extremely conservative defensive position, which really made him scratch his head, and seeing that the repeated attacks were in vain, he shouted angrily:

"You coward, shrunken turtle! Hide in your turtle shell for the rest of your life! Your mentor will be ashamed of you! ”

Mr. Ironfist was not provoked, but laughed:

"Hehe, it's useless, Mr. Chief, and I don't have a mentor at all."

This sentence is indeed true,

He is a child from a poor peasant family, how can he have the money to learn from famous masters, he has no door and no school, and all the moves and methods are figured out by himself.

Mr. Iron Fist is indeed a self-taught talent,

He constantly used the handle of the hammer, the bracers, the shoulder armor, and the shin armor to block the stormy and crazy attacks,

The Native warrior Uuzullah's attack speed was even faster than that of a phantasm, appearing as if he had four arms.

There are many spectators in the audience, and they are all secretly afraid when they see such a strong skill, and if they end up, they will die long ago.

The rhythm of the game was so tense that it was suffocating, the huge blood arena gradually quieted down, and the originally noisy and noisy spectator seats became silent.

It was clearly the highest level gladiator duel in the last decade, and the intense competition made people afraid to blink easily, for fear of missing out on the highlights.

"Bang!"

Sparks flew and the two-handed hammer clashed with the short spear, the serpent-like tip of the spear stabbing down the handle of the hammer to the palm of the hammer.

In order to dodge the fatal stab of the venomized short spear, Mr. Iron Fist decisively gave up his two-handed hammer, pulled out the scimitar on his belt and danced a knife flower to protect his upper body.

"Drink!"

The native Uuzullah roared, took a step back, threw his shield, and was dodged by the gladiator.

"What stupid arrogance! You're dead! ”

Mr. Ironfist shouted, waiting for the moment when his opponent relaxed, and slashed at him with his scimitar.

The natives were without the cover of their shields, their spears were flexible but unstoppable, and they were thirsty for blood at the sight of their blades.

(Win!) I'm going to be free! He thought excitedly.

Suddenly, a whistling sound behind him caused Mr. Iron Fist to break out in a cold sweat, and his brain was racing.

(damn it...... What was that? Broken! The shield turned out to be a giant boomerang! No wonder there's a serration on it! The barbarian sees the weakness of the lack of armor behind me! I've been tricked! ）

There was no time to think more, there was a short spear in front and a flying shield in the back, and Mr. Iron Fist had already fallen into a flanking attack, so he could only forcibly withdraw the scimitar attack.

A sharp turn to the side was able to avoid the impact of the whirling flying shield, but there was still a faint pain in the back, and it was still mountainous.

(Na...... Fortunately, there was no poison on the serrated blade of the shield...... It's too dangerous! ）

Uuzula saw the moment and flew up and kicked at the opponent's gauntlet, and the scimitar was kicked away.

Mr. Tekken, who had lost his weapon, first dodged several deadly short spear pursuits with a forward roll, and then pulled out a long dagger with another roll over.

Seeing the embarrassed appearance of the opponent, the native made Yi Yi mock:

"Haha, what champion? It's a ball of dung rolling around like a shell! You've changed your name to Mr. Dung Ball! ”

Mr. Tekken, who had just survived a desperate situation, had no intention of paying attention to the taunts of his opponents.

He panted and tried to even out his breathing,

He has to admit that his opponent's strength, speed and skill are above him, and if you want to win the fight, you have to make changes.

But now he only has a dagger, and wearing armor to fight also makes his physical strength seriously exhausted, and he has the upper hand everywhere, so it is really difficult to find an opportunity to turn the tables.

At this time, he found a blow arrow poison dart lying on the ground two meters away from him, which had been half buried by the flying gravel, and the natives did not seem to notice it.

(There you have it!) There's still a chance! ）

Mr. Tekken clutched the dagger in his left hand and struck it with a straight punch in his right hand.

The fierce fist wind shocked the indigenous warriors, and if this punch was hit, half of the mouth would be lost.