NARRATOR POV:
"Does this bastard know everything?" thought Yu Han, shocked by Zhao Han's sudden revelation.
"You know, since the beginning of the tournament, I've always wondered how a weakling like you, without talent or strength, managed to get this far. I didn't even have to wait for an answer—good old Fang Min handed it to me on a silver platter!"
Zhao Han exclaimed with excitement and joy.
"Fang Min... That must be the blonde guy from the other day who kept interrupting me. Damn it, if only I hadn't spoken out loud..."
Yu Han thought, angrier than ever. He clenched his fist with all his might, trying to remain calm and come up with a way out of this mess.
"Heh… But you have no proof to accuse me of practicing demonic arts. How can you be so sure?" Yu Han asked, forcing a sly, fake smile onto his face to dispel the suspicion hanging over him.
