You Always Forget What Kind Of Person He Is

Contender no. 17 was getting further and further away. Lin Sanjiu stared ahead as the youth's signature afro grew smaller until it turned into a little black dot in her vision. She shook her head and slowed down.

The wind ripped past like a polished blade. Lin Sanjiu heard footfalls pitter patting amidst the symphony of her ragged breathing, flustered footsteps, and racing heartbeats. The contenders were catching up as they overtook her one by one.

She raised her eyelids, which were as heavy as two stones, and looked around. The number of contenders had reduced from 45 to mere 20 or so. More than half of the contenders had fallen like the first snow of winter.

Lin Sanjiu had no idea how many of them were dead because of her reckless action.

As Lin Sanjiu sighed inwardly, a figure materialized like a bubble in the air ahead of her. Then, the bearded man came into her sight.