Meanwhile, inside the building.
Laura sat at the head of the table, her long hair cascading down like a waterfall. A black umbrella quietly leaned against her side. She was gazing at the martial arts arena below, her expression calm throughout, showing no signs of fluctuation.
Standing not far from her, Councilor Simba's palms were already sweaty. He occasionally lifted his head, sneaking a glance at Laura's expression. His heart was constantly in his throat.
Half an hour ago, in order to secure an invitation to the banquet from Laura, Simba had urgently summoned the best young people in Washington for this competition.
But this was already the eleventh pair to compete, and he still could not see any emotional fluctuation on Laura's face.
Was it because they were too weak and did not meet the standard? Or was it just because she always wore such an expression?
