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Solemnity Vs Artistry

It was now time for the fourth battle.

Mr. Arkram's commanding voice echoed through the arena as he called upon the next pair of fighters. "Marx and Asher, step forward. It's time for your battle."

Marx, with his stoic demeanor and concealed eyes behind tinted glasses, walked to the ring without uttering a word.

His presence alone exuded an aura of seriousness that demanded attention.

Asher, on the other hand, sauntered into the ring with an arrogant swagger.

His vibrant, multicolored hair and an array of tattoos painted a picture of artistic rebellion.

He couldn't resist mocking Marx with a condescending grin.

"Well, well, Marx. Looks like I'm up against a living statue. Can you even move with that face of yours? It must be a challenge to express anything beyond solemnity," Asher taunted, his voice dripping with superiority.

Marx's expression remained unchanged, his face locked in a determined gaze. He ignored Asher's taunts, focusing his energy on the battle that awaited them.

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