The moment Lin Fang's boots touched the dueling ground, a faint ripple spread through the spectators. From the upper floor, someone narrowed their eyes at the familiar design of the mask.
"That black wolf mask…" the person muttered. "Isn't this…"
Down below, Lin Fang lifted his head and looked straight at Adam. His posture was loose, almost casual, yet there was a quiet pressure radiating from him.
"Duels without any stakes are boring," Lin Fang said. His voice came out deeper through the mask, steady and unhurried. "Don't you think so?"
Adam's brows knitted together. "Then what do you want to stake?"
A low chuckle escaped Lin Fang. "Relax, brother. High-stake duels turn into real battles. I'm not here for that." He raised a finger slightly. "Just a harmless bet. Ten thousand credits."
The murmurs in the crowd grew louder.
