Ma Dong took the towel that his secretary handed him and rubbed it against his face forcefully. He quickly changed into the formal suit that an assistant brought to him, right there on the platform in the hall. He sprayed tequila cologne on himself, while his hairstylist did his hair at the fastest speed possible. He put on a pair of dark blue contact lenses to mask his bloodshot eyes.
In a matter of minutes, Ma Dong no longer looked like someone who had pulled all-nighters for the past few days. It was as if he had just woken up in his warm bedroom and taken a cold shower. He looked refreshed. Before he left, he looked at a photo frame on his desk, which contained a picture of him and Wang Zhong.
Lao Wang, your battle is going to happen in the Land two months later, but mine is right now!
Ma Dong grinned. He tidied a few strands of hair near his forehead with his fingers, feeling rejuvenated.
Brother, let us fight together!
