"White Raven, it's your turn!"
"Okay."
Milton Cheney nodded slightly.
The burly man in front of him patted Milton's shoulder gently to signal that he didn't need to be nervous, and then stepped aside.
The sound of chatter and flickering lights surrounded them.
Milton took a step forward and climbed onto the arena.
The moment he set foot on the stage, the cheers turned into even more intense booing.
"Why have they chosen some young punk this time?"
"This weakling..."
The sounds around them suddenly stopped.
The din turned into silence!
Milton, remaining unfazed on the arena, stepped over a burly man and descended from the stage.
The referee remained at the spot, stunned.
The burly man lying in the middle of the stage was motionless.
Fresh blood oozed out from his mouth and nose, forming a small puddle of blood on the stage.
The referee rushed to the burly man to inspect him.
"Dead... he's dead."
