Within minutes, the arena was entirely sanitized for the television cameras.
The break ended and it was time for the next fight to take place. Spectators in the bleachers erupted as this coliseum's final combatants for the night walked out.
From the western tunnel emerged my sister, ink-black hair pulled back into a high ponytail and brilliant golden eyes carrying a glint of egoistical indifference.
Even from this high up, I could tell by looking at her stride that she wasn't in a good mood. Well… she was rarely ever in a good mood, to start with.
Her opponent was a tall guy, lanky frame but wired muscles rippling beneath his sleeveless black vest. He was bouncing on his heels, trying to appear confident but to no avail.
The stadium announcer's voice boomed over the speaker system, introducing him as some prodigy from the East, Rank 8. Then, my sister was introduced.
