"Huh?"

Yu Sheng was stunned for a moment.

Yesterday, the vice principal personally called him, and the phone summary kept instructing him that by the beginning of the quarterfinals, it was already the top management of the Mo Pavilion, including the entire human race, who attached great importance to it.

So the style of painting must be correct!

Otherwise, it's not easy to promote!

Especially the champion of the Mo Academy, it is best to be enthusiastic and have a proud image, which is convenient for next year's enrollment.

In order to stop studying those so-called small tricks for the rest of his life, the vice principal reluctantly took out 500 credits.

But now...

There are even those who take the initiative to ask for it!

The rest of his life seemed to open the door to a new world, and he muttered for two seconds: "Do you sing well?" ”

"I've released singles before."

Yin Meng had a little confidence in his eyes, as if he had defeated the rest of his life to some extent.

"Forget it, you surrender."

Somewhat disappointed, Yu Sheng turned around and prepared to leave.

Yin Meng: ???

In a daze, he was carried to the stretcher by the medical staff and walked away.

Wisps of gray gas continue to diffuse.

The rest of my life was thoughtful.

"I see, it can also provide gray gas..."

Take out a notepad and record.

One more way.

After experiencing Yuan Qingshan's speech, the students worked harder in the next competition.

A normal freshman tournament is fought like a real battlefield.

Danger everywhere.

Even Xu Yuanqing, the host and part-time referee, didn't dare to sit in the judges' seat anymore, but stood under the ring, ready to go on the field at any time.

In this kind of evenly matched battle situation, it is difficult for anyone to stop and ensure that they will not accidentally kill the other side.

The new ring was already stained with blood, and there was a slight smell of blood out of thin air.

Until one by one the places that advanced to the quarterfinals were born, the qualifiers, even if they were covered in blood, had a proud smile on their faces.

The loser is deeply imprinted with this scene in his mind, waiting for one day to catch up.

One more battle.

Only in this kind of continuous encouragement and competition, will more and more strong people come out of the new generation of the human race, take over the banner in the hands of the forerunners, and continue to move forward slowly.

In the end, there were only two people left who had not yet competed.

Mo Academy, Zhao Zicheng.

Military Academy, the son of the boss of the Qunxing Group, Feng Yong.

Zhao Zicheng, who has been very silent since entering today, controlled the wheelchair and walked silently to the ring.

He still has a cast on his leg.

Chest bandage wrapped.

The left hand is also wrapped in gauze and hangs over the shoulder.

Including the exposed skin, there are scars.

With the help of the staff, he stepped into the ring and calmly looked at Feng Yong opposite him.

Feng Yong's expression was complicated, and he looked at Zhao Zicheng and took a deep breath: "Although there is still Liang Zi between us, but... Throw in the towel. ”

Zhao Zicheng's face was a little pale, he raised his head to look at Feng Yong, and suddenly grinned reluctantly: "You trash." ”

"If you provoke me, you will only make your own situation worse."

Feng Yong frowned slightly.

But Zhao Zicheng looked at Xu Yuanqing not far away, and his eyes signaled.

"Are you ready?"

Xu Yuanqing sighed lightly and asked.

Zhao Zicheng nodded.

"You... Really ready? ”

Xu Yuanqing asked again.

Zhao Zicheng was a little helpless and nodded again.

"You can't get a little farther away from him, you can't use your wheelchair to play this distance."

Xu Yuanqing said quietly, seeing that Zhao Zicheng still had no intention of retreating, he said that the game was over, and then withdrew from the ring.

To the surprise of all the audience, Zhao Zicheng, who was more suitable for swimming in a wheelchair, not only did not retreat, but instead controlled the wheelchair and rushed towards Feng Yong at the maximum speed that the wheelchair could reach.

The only right hand that could move suddenly let go of the lever, picked up a crossbow on the side, and fired a few arrows at Feng Yong, forcing him back a little distance.

At the moment when he approached Feng Yong, Zhao Zicheng supported the handrail with one hand, jumped up from the wheelchair, jumped out from the side, and fell heavily to the ground.

But the moment he landed, he barely supported his body, half-kneeling on the ground, his eyes staring at Feng Yong tightly.

Feng Yong only moved two steps sideways and gave way to the wheelchair, with a little puzzlement.

Some hesitated and walked towards Zhao Zicheng, who fell to the ground.

Gave up his only means of action...

What's the difference between throwing in the towel and admitting defeat.

Seeing that he was getting closer and closer to Zhao Zicheng, Zhao Zicheng's right hand, which had been clenched tightly, suddenly pulled.

There seemed to be an invisible thread between it and the wheelchair.

The wheelchair flew out upside down, and Feng Yong's legs tightened.

Nearly fell to the ground.

"It's a pity that it's a competition, otherwise I'll kill you with Boss Yu's root!"

Zhao Zicheng muttered in his mouth, still pulling hard, throwing Feng Yong to the ground, the wheelchair was thrown over, Zhao Zicheng barely got up, sat in the wheelchair, and kept circling around Feng Yong.

Tie it up firmly.

Under a series of operations, Zhao Zicheng, who was already seriously injured, became more and more pale, and kept panting.

But this is a small trick that does not come to the table after all.

At best, it was a few seconds to trap Feng Yong and hit it a few times with a sandbag.

With Feng Yong's escape, Zhao Zicheng completely fell into disadvantage.

But with red eyes and sandbags in front of him, he barely coped.

The audience fell silent.

The rest of his life stood quietly under the ring, watching without saying a word.

At this time, Zhao Zicheng has become the target of beating.

The successive ridicules and the unruly tricks caused Feng Yong's mood to be a little irritable, and he didn't use the awakening object, so he bombarded Zhao Zicheng's sandbag with a fist until the awakening thing dispersed.

Zhao Zicheng reluctantly got up from his wheelchair and was pressed to the ground by Feng Yong.

"It's time for you to throw in the towel!"

But...

Zhao Zicheng fell to the ground like this, looked at Feng Yong, and smiled.

The hand that had been wrapped around the bandage suddenly withdrew, and the wound that had just scabbed over it cracked, including the bones that were still healing themselves, made a crisp sound again.

But...

Between the fingers was an unedged blade.

From Feng Yong's neck, he slashed by.

"You... You lose... Finish. ”

Some whispered weakly, gasping for air.

Feng Yong got up a little dazed, obviously hadn't reacted yet, and lost his mind.

"Ink Academy!"

"Zhao Zicheng!"

"Win!"

Xu Yuanqing's voice continued to echo from the sky above the venue.

And for a long time.

Zhao Zicheng reluctantly put his hands on the wheelchair, supported himself to sit down, and slowly stood up with the wheelchair.

Wounded all over his body, he didn't seem to have anything to do with the victor in any way.

But...

With Zhao Zicheng's move, more than half of the audience stood up.

"Remember..."

"My name is Zhao Zicheng."

"Bloody and striking, Zhao Zicheng..."

Whispering, Zhao Zicheng slowly closed his eyes, fell into the ring, and fainted.

A medical staff rushed up as soon as possible, surrounded him, tested his injuries, and finally set up the stretcher that he had been lying on for an unknown number of times, and quietly exited.