Zhang Zhizhen's figure instantly appeared on the arena.
The arena fell silent once more. Everyone stared at the screens, watching the figure who had just stepped onto the arena.
'Who is this guy? Can he defeat his opponent?!'
The crowd clenched their fists in suspense, their eyes glued to the arena in dead silence.
The host was on the arena, looking conflicted and unsure of what to do. Zhang Zhizhen patted his shoulder and gestured for him to leave. The host breathed a sigh of relief and quickly descended from the platform.
Although he was a professional host, under the monstrous aura of the powerful experts present, he felt immense pressure, and his usual silver tongue and improvisation failed him.
As he watched the host leave, Zhang Zhizhen fixed his gaze on his opponent.
"So, you're the next one I get to beat? Zhang Zhizhen of the Celestial Heart Sect?"
A mocking smile crept onto Silva's face.
"I'm here to see you off this stage."
