“This guy is at the level of Snake Dragon Step Seven. Manba, Kuisang, Suotu’er, which one of you, who share the same level with him, will step forward to enlighten the kid?”
An old man scrutinized Michael, who was wearing a mask, then turned to the three men beside him.
One of the men, tall and thin in his middle ages, impatiently said fearing that he would miss the opportunity to show off, “I’ll go! No one is allowed to snatch this chance from me!”
Without waiting for a response from the others, he jumped up as if a roc spreading its wings, standing confidently on the stage.
“Young man, take off your mask! I hate you guys who are not very capable, yet are fond of pretending and showing off.”
Kuisang glared at the masked Michael, his tone was condescending, like a master ordering a slave.
On any other day, Michael would not only match the man with fists and kicks, but he would just as easily match any words thrown at him.