Jin Zhijian watched this scene, his pupils dilated, as he reassessed Long Fei.
His proud martial artist's heart, which he had always esteemed, suddenly felt a hint of timidity.
Edward reminded him from behind, "Jin, with ordinary strength, you are no match for him."
Jin Zhijian's face reddened, not wanting to admit it, but he had to.
This arena, which was meant to be his place of glory, had unexpectedly become Long Fei's stage.
He looked at Edward and asked, "Can you help me?"
"Of course!"
Edward smiled, took out a small bottle, and said to him, "Drink this, I've been waiting for you to join us."
Jin Zhijian glanced at Lin Yingying; in front of her, he absolutely could not back down.
He picked up the glass bottle and drank it without another word.
A taste of blood slid down his throat, making him feel like vomiting on the spot.
His eyes turned red, and he suddenly felt as if his body was about to burst with something stretching it from the inside, his muscles swelling.
