Drip drip.
“Cough.”
Youngpung, spitting blood from his nose and mouth.
The impact must have been considerable, as he couldn’t even regain his senses properly.
Moreover, the place he flew to was the edge of the sparring stage.
This meant that if the sparring stage hadn’t been expanded differently from the qualifiers, Youngpung would have been eliminated.
‘Oh no.’
I had hit him too hard without realizing.
I didn’t intend to reduce him to that state with one strike. My fist just went out on its own.
‘Of all things, that face.’
An unlucky and ill-fated old man.
I had only properly seen it once, but as soon as I saw that face, I threw a punch.
By instinct, perhaps?
‘What is this?’
I furrowed my brows while looking at Youngpung, who was coughing.
Now, he was back to his original appearance as Youngpung.
As if the previous state was a lie, he had returned to normal.
Then, what on earth was that just now?
‘It doesn’t seem intentional.’
It wasn’t in the realm of illusions or formations.
Meaning it wasn’t something Youngpung had deliberately done.
Moreover.
‘The audience’s reaction isn’t much different either.’
If they had seen that change, they would have had to be surprised.
Yet, the audience was only shocked at Youngpung being knocked down, and they seemed unaware of the previous situation.
That meant.
‘Only I saw it.’
It was a phenomenon that happened only to me.
‘Just now…. That appearance was the old man’s face.’
The appearance I saw in the breaking vessel. A memory that remained vividly without fading.
What faintly appeared on Youngpung was definitely the old man’s face.
What on earth is going on here?
While repeating thoughts in this sudden situation.
“Hoo… Hah….”
Youngpung was slowly getting…