Three stories underground, the space was thick with the intense sll of smoke and sweat. In the stands all around, every spectator waved their white betting slips, shouting like mad.
Everyone seed insane, truly because the young man from Japan was fighting too crazily, too bloodily.
He won the first match cleanly and decisively. The boxer who took the stage for the second bout was quite famous here, with 17 wins and 3 losses, an excellent record, and his punches and kicks were very sharp. However, the outco was still utterly predictable.
The boxer had one of his arms brutally twisted and broken by his opponent. Before he could even concede, he was pumled continuously by the other’s punches like a violent storm, getting beaten like a punching bag.
He was literally exploded. The observers in the stands could clearly see the blood flowers blossoming on the boxer’s face and body, blood splattered about, painting the ring a crimson red.
In three seconds, not knowing how many punches or heavy hits he’d taken, the boxer completely lost consciousness. His body slumped to the floor like a heap of mud, bleeding profusely like a bag with a hole, staining a vast area of the ground red.
Those who liked to co here to watch the fights included well-dressed office workers, restaurant waitstaff, factory workers, and so store owners... They ca here perhaps to relieve pressure, to gamble, or just for the morbid curiosity, but they shared one common purpose: to seek thrills.
Liu Luo’s venue hadn’t seen soone fight as wildly as tonight in a long ti, with a tang of bloodiness. The sudden bursting scenes set everyone involuntarily excited.
Those who had bet against the Japanese before were annoyed, and now without hesitation, they chose to bet on his victory!
And the Japanese fighter didn’t disappoint the audience. In the third match, facing an opponent who was clearly a weight class above him, he still quickly closed in and toppled his opponent to the ground.
He didn’t hurry to attack further but waited for his opponent to stand up again before charging at him and throwing him to the floor once more. This pattern repeated, as if he was toying with his opponent.
After repeatedly throwing his opponent to the floor over a dozen tis, the opponent could barely stand. Only then did the Japanese flash a cruel smile, instantly rushing in to lock the opponent’s arm and breaking it before he could concede!
Then a punch landed on the opponent’s face, cutting off the agonized scream, followed by a barrage of punches to the face, leaving the opponent unrecognizable, his face sared with blood.
With the opponent collapsing with a thud, the third match ended with another victory for him!
Xiaoze Wutian shook his arms, flinging the blood off his fists. He looked on as the staff once again carried his opponent away, a satisfied expression on his face.
These past few days, because of Wu Li, he had been suppressing a lot of anger, especially today. Wu Li broke Charles’s record, winning the bet, and the ssage ca from the TUF organizers that they agreed to let Wu Li beco a ntor. This ant that for the next period of training, he himself would be the student and would have to refer to him as ’ntor’?
The thought set Xiaoze Wutian’s blood boiling, not subsiding until he took down three opponents with heavy blows.
He waited in the ring for a while, but no new opponent ca up.
The surrounding audience imdiately let out dissatisfied boos:
"Why is there no one else fighting?"
"Keep going! I’m all in on this guy!"
"Where are the people? Are they too chicken to lose?"
"Fight, fight!"
...
In the top-floor private box, Liu Luo’s face was ashen. He had lost more than seven hundred thousand US dollars in three matches, and if there was another fight, that number might double. And with the Japanese bastard hitting so hard, the rest of the fighters in the venue had beco timid and afraid; no one dared to go up and fight.
Normally in such situations, the underground fight organizers would either hire a stronger fighter to co and beat the opponent, to regain face and minimize the losses, or just concede, actively offering the opponent money to stop fighting. And if the opponent was being difficult, they’d have to wait to be shot in the dark.
Of course, resorting to revenge was to be avoided if at all possible, because once a reputation is spoiled, who would co to fight in your venue? Moreover, those who dared to challenge the venue like this usually had complicated backgrounds, not so easily retaliated against.
So in the end, hiring a strong fighter to win back the losses was the most cost-effective and gratifying asure. The value of an enforcer lies in monts like these.
Of course, Liu Luo had his own enforcers, but since even Zhang Li had lost to the opponent before, he naturally didn’t want his top fighters to beco Xiaoze Wutian’s punching bags, fearing they might be maid, which would cause him great distress.
"Brother Luo, the audience downstairs is shouting for us to send soone to the stage fast; they’re all betting on the Japanese guy to win!" a subordinate rushed into the private box and said to Liu Luo.
Liu Luo, without turning his head, said, "Tell the host to inform them to wait a bit more; we will have a top fighter taking the stage very soon."
"Yes,"
"Furthermore, go and increase the odds. Tonight, I want to win all these idiots’ money!"
"Understood!"
"Also, keep an eye on that group of bettors from Japan. Don’t let them break the rules."
"Don’t worry; our guys have been watching them the whole ti."
According to the rules of underground fistfights, fighters can’t bet on themselves, and if they secretly have soone else place a bet for them, they can only bet on their own victory. If a fighter is discovered deliberately betting on their own loss and then throwing the fight, all their gambling money will be confiscated, and both of their hands will be broken!
Over the years, there have been fighters who risked everything to do such things in the underground fistfights, but almost all of them ended up in a miserable state, becoming cautionary tales for those who followed.
These Japanese had won several hundred thousand US Dollars from the arena fair and square. Liu Luo accepted that, but if he discovered that they dared to play dirty, then taking action to teach them a lesson afterward would be a matter of divine justice, and no one could have any objections.
After his subordinates left to carry out their tasks, Liu Luo glared fiercely at Xiaoze Wutian below. He hoped that Li San wouldn’t hold back later and would preferably cripple that bastard!
Unfortunately, when it ca to Li San’s actions, he had no right to intervene. Even Liu Luo couldn’t persuade Hongn’s Double Flower Red Stick—Li San. Even if Sixth Master asked him to make a move, the request was always made very politely.
If only Li San could help him control the arena, Liu Luo would worship him as a deity!
Liu Luo regretted that if he had Li San’s help, his annual inco could easily multiply several tis over.
Below, Xiaoze Wutian sensed that a master was about to enter the stage when he heard the host’s announcent. He knew for sure that Li San would step in.
He sighed inwardly, feeling a bit regretful.
From their first day in New York, they had actually been plotting. Otherwise, why would they specifically target a Hongn venue among so many underground arenas in New York?
Before Xiaoze Wutian went on stage, he had a rough idea of who he would be facing. Their plan included clashing with Hongn’s Red Stick, Zhang Li. Defeating Zhang Li ant that Li San was likely to intervene, and from start to finish, their goal was to draw out Li San.
Li San’s whereabouts in New York were unpredictable and difficult to pin down, so the only option was to wait patiently, like a hunter waiting for rabbits.
Before, Guandong Association’s expansion in New York was always thwarted by Hongn, and one of the main reasons for that was because of Li San’s presence.
Perhaps in the world of average people, a capable Martial Artist could at best achieve success in martial arts competitions, acquire wealth, and fa, no more. But in the world where Liu Luo and his likes were, a master like Li San played a far greater role.
It wasn’t just about dominating underground fistfights. In modern society, when conflict arises between social groups or criminal organizations, large-scale shootouts are basically suicidal and detrintal to both parties. Thus, when forces of similar strength had disputes, they would either resolve them through fistfights or other ans, such as assassination.
The importance of masters in fistfights speaks for itself. Hu Shan, once lauded as Southeast Asia’s top fighter, grew his massive power because he fought for many groups and organizations, making connections with nurous influential figures.
As for assassinations, if you could make all the key leaders of the opposing organization disappear, you could naturally win without a fight.
Hongn was established in the late Ming and early Qing dynasties. It began as an underground organization specializing in assassinations. With over three hundred years of history and weathering many storms, survival in a foreign land was already challenging. Initially unable to confront enemies head-on, assassinations were an effective strategy. Therefore, many of Hongn’s Double Flower Red Sticks throughout history were not only martial arts experts but often skilled assassins as well!
Since Li San beca the Double Flower Red Stick, Hongn’s sub-branches in New York were only subject to assassination attempts twice over ten years. The first ti, a vice Hall Master died, and Li San retaliated by assassinating three key figures from the opposing side, forcing them to yield. The second ti, a Hall Master was targeted and seriously injured, but not killed; Li San acted, killing both minor and major leaders until the enemy was forced to flee New York in a sorry state, greatly weakened.
"You assassinate our people; we can assassinate yours. If you don’t want mutual destruction, don’t act recklessly!" That was the lesson Hongn wanted to impart to everyone, and Li San was like a nuclear weapon in their hands. As long as he was alive, no one dared to target the leaders of Hongn easily.
Masters could be that protective!
Two years ago, when Guandong Association’s New York branch clashed with the local Hongn, they decided to settle the conflict through a fistfight. As a result, Guandong Association’s Gangrou Style master, Yoshio Yamashita, was defeated by Li San, who executed a Sound Strike, shattering his skull. The loss devastated the Guandong Association, and the arena where Xiaoze Wutian now stood was a territory that the Guandong Association had once controlled.
Inferior in strength, unable to win in fistfights, and too scared to attempt assassinations, the Guandong Association’s New York branch was quietly subdued for two years. Now, the headquarters finally decided to regrow their New York branch. The first step was to eliminate Li San.
As for the Bill Brothers Association, they likely had similar motives, aiming to eliminate Li San, which would be a double win for the Guandong Association.
"What a pity. A master like you won’t die at my hands."
Xiaoze Wutian looked towards the entrance, estimating that Li San’s arrival—and death—was imminent.
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