The match is over.
Fang Qingyu pushed open the door to the players' lounge.
The Thunder God's roar, enough to flip the dome, was kept outside.
Inside the room.
It was silent.
The spacious lounge was lit with harsh white lights.
The screen was still repeatedly replaying the shocking scene of him sending Shadow flying with two punches.
The golden lightning tore through the air, pierced the arena, and slammed Shadow's figure like a broken sack into the depth of a pit.
The images were silent, yet they carried a suffocating aesthetics of violence.
Fang Qingyu's melted gold vertical pupils quickly scanned the room.
The lounge was almost empty.
Jiang Wei was quietly sitting on the sofa in the corner.
Her clear red pupils looked over as soon as he pushed the door and entered.
Her long red hair flowed like lava.
Besides Jiang Wei, there was only one person left in the spacious lounge.
A tall man wearing a black combat suit, arms crossed and leaning against the wall.
