The others also did fist-to-palm salutes as they huffed.

“Leaving? I’m afraid you can’t leave once you’re here!”

The old man waved his hand. The black-clothed man from before all raised their fists, radiating dangerously quiet auras.

“You want to fight us when we have so many people on our side? Are you looking for death?”

A bald man craned his neck to look at the old man atop the stage, his expression stony.

“The people here should be pretty good fighters,” the old man said, smiling. “We’ll just kill those who can’t fight properly and take those that aren’t too bad as our puppets so that they can contribute to our society. Hah!”

“Just hand the dragon scale over, you old fart!”

stand it any longer. He shot straight onto his feet and glared at the

can

speaking with an impassive

we have no choice but to take

foot and speared toward the sky—toward the direction of the old

you’re

man from before. He finally realized that Jack was the person he

“The Supreme Warrior?”

that. This man was so young. Was he

“Hand it over!”

a fist and struck it

old man had been thrown backward

the scars that riddled the old man’s face. It seemed that he had sustained burn injuries from before.

This was

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