"Ah!"
The girl below the stage couldn't help but scream, and it seemed to flip a switch. Wang Anfeng's pupils gathered strands of divine light, he shouted, reversed his right palm to grab Zeng Bo's wrist, and forcefully stepped forward, flipping and pressing him to the ground, his left hand like a sword unsheathing, firmly paused atop the latter's neck.
The middle-aged man serving as the referee's eyes brightened. He nodded and said,
"The winner, Wang Anfeng."
Clutching his wrist, Zeng Bo managed a pained smile and staggered off the stage. Having won two matches in a row, but gaining nothing material, was indeed embarrassing. Wang Anfeng's eyes slightly narrowed as he observed the martial artists of his age below, some arrogant and some serene, all holding sharp blades and all watching him intently.
The master had said that he needed to suppress them all.
It was not that none wished to step forward,
