Chapter 110: The Holy Devil
The heat that was radiating from Platform D was very hot; The sun was beating down on the grey stones until you could practically fry an egg on them. (Sizzle...) The air rippled with waves of heat, while also making the crowd in the distance look like watery ghosts.
Yin Zhe was standing in the center of the ring, with one of his hand shielding his eyes from the glare. He used his other hand to pick a piece of meat bun out of his teeth. (Smack, smack.)
"Man, that bun was really dry," he muttered to himself, but it was loud enough for the first three rows to hear. "Next time, I need to bring some soy milk. Fighting on a dry stomach is bad for digestion."
Opposite him stood his first opponent of the group stage.
