"Mr. Ishino, you... you've lost," a bodyguard said awkwardly.
"Nonsense, I... I haven't lost!" Ishino Saburo gritted his teeth, struggling to stand up, but at this moment he had no strength at all. The standoff against Lin Chuan had drained all his energy, and on top of that, the muscles in his legs were almost all strained to varying degrees; he had completely collapsed.
"Mr. Ishino, just give it up," the bodyguard quickly said. "You're no match for him."
Ishino Saburo was extremely unwilling to accept this. He gritted his teeth in frustration.
At this moment, Lin Chuan came over and sneered, "There is an old saying in China that goes, 'A bettor must accept his loss.' Since you've lost, you should admit that you're the sick man of East Asia. Luo Guoqing, put the banner on them."
"Alright!" Luo Guoqing hurriedly nodded in agreement.
Written on red couplet paper were the striking, large black ink characters for 'Sick Man of East Asia.' Luo Guoqing handed it to several of them.
