His Position

"You the Dragon?" grunted a voice. Bai Long Qiang looked up from where he was sitting on a bench in a dilapidated locker room. 

It smelled like blood and sweat, not the most appealing of combinations, but it was… fragrant. 

Bai Long Qiang nodded his head, not bothering to speak. The guy looked like a scuzzball. His hair was sticking up all over the place, and his eyes kept jumping around the room like he was going to be attacked at any moment. 

Or he was high on something or other. 

And he clearly hadn't realized that no fighter fought unless there was something in it for them. 

Then again, he might have enough sins on his soul to warrant being killed by someone. 

In the few months since they left City Y, he and the others had split up into teams of two and three, each team taking a different city.