Final Competition Countdown, 360 minutes.
Li Jiang Tower, Night Market.
"You lost."
The axe blade was poised over the red-haired youth's neck, the metallic edge slicing the skin, oozing blood.
"I did not lose!"
The red-haired youth's eyes were wide with fury, glaring at the hooded masked figure staring down at him, the observing crowd's varied gazes from the surrounding high-rises piercing into his heart like knives,
Yet with his severed tendons, his limbs couldn't muster any strength, let alone resist (the Home game constantly monitors pain signals, and once pain exceeds limits, it will actively restrict it),
He could only watch as the opponent's hand reached into his pocket to take away the golden coin that represented the ticket to the final competition.
Perhaps moved by resonance, or maybe out of consideration for the cameras on the tall buildings around, the masked figure did not deliver the killing blow, instead remaining silent for a moment,
