The Obsidian King's Arrogance
He let out a cold snort; his gaze fixed on Yana Tyson.
The entire Martial Arts Hall had gradually become tense after Evan's consecutive victories. The noisy discussions from earlier had long faded away, replaced by cautious whispers and nervous glances.
Even the fragrance of tea lingering through the hall could not suppress the invisible pressure filling the air.
Evan sat calmly near the arena platform, one hand resting lazily against the armrest of his chair. Yet despite his relaxed posture, the sharpness in his black eyes felt like a hidden blade constantly searching through the crowd.
He was waiting.
Waiting for Lucas to appear.
Wasn't Lucas interested in Yana Tyson?
As long as he made a move on Yana Tyson, Lucas would naturally be unable to sit still and would come out.
The corner of Evan's mouth lifted slightly.
That junior brother of his always had the same weakness.
Women.
Justice.
Playing the hero.
