Early in the morning, at the abandoned soccer stadium on the outskirts of the city, a spectacle rarely seen in many years came to life again.
The dilapidated, terraced concrete seats were almost full of people.
All together, there must have been thousands, if not tens of thousands.
This was even more enthusiastic than watching the most grandiose soccer games that used to be held here.
The miraculous part was that the national machine, which should have prevented such a duel, seemed to have received no news of it.
In the center of the desolate and weedy field, Hei Dalong, dressed in ninja attire, had already been sitting cross-legged there for some time.
On his knees lay a katana without a scabbard.
Under the sunlight, the blade shone with a glittering brilliance.
Although the sun was fierce, the light emanating from the blade felt chilling to the bone.
