In the ring
A hostess dressed as a sexy bunny girl was solemnly introducing the details of this top-level boxing match in a spirited tone.
"Tonight's boxing match will be a bloody trial for newcomers."
"It's the most anticipated Zhulu Dou of all the matches, second only to Weapon Combat!"
"A total of seven fighters will enter the ring. Three of them are powerful ring champions who rose up from the middle-level ring."
"Then there are the Zheng Brothers, who cleared their way through the middle and lower-level boxing rings in just three days."
"And finally, two special fighters of 'mysterious' origins!"
"As everyone knows, Zhulu Dou means a seven-person melee. It's usually held for the newcomers to the top-level boxing ring."
"The rules are simple: the winner takes all."
"As long as you defeat the other newcomers in this boxing match, you'll qualify to claim five victories in one go."
"Within twenty matches, anyone who accumulates eighteen victories can become a top-level ring champion and enjoy dividends from the shares of the Fook Shing Building."
"At present, the only known top-level ring champion is Handsome Boxing King Sheng."
"Tonight's Zhulu Dou is about to begin."
"Now, please welcome the seven fighters participating in this Zhulu Dou."
As her voice fell, several figures of varying heights gradually emerged from the shadows beneath the ring.
First was Zhang Shicheng, the champion of the middle-level ring's fifth platform. He had successfully defended his title with a pair of iron fists and was known as Iron Hand.
Next was Baron, a Black fighter and the champion of the middle-level ring's eighth platform. He had made a name for himself with Brazilian jujutsu and had broken the bones of six opponents during ten matches. His ground techniques were extremely powerful.
Another champion was the middle-level ring's ninth-platform champion.
He wasn't tall, but his entire body was covered in corded muscle.
His undershirt couldn't conceal his right arm. A black flood dragon was tattooed across the muscular shoulder, its tail winding around his entire upper arm.
He was also the middle-level boxing ring's most popular fighter, He Ping, nicknamed Tyrannosaurus.
It was said that this Tyrannosaurus never took more than ten rounds to beat someone up. He had once caused an opponent to vomit blood after just three rounds, leaving him unable to remain standing in the ring.
Of the hundred-plus spectators in the stands for this round of Zhulu Dou, nearly half had come specifically to see him.
Aside from the three champions who had chosen to advance to the top-level ring, there were also the Zheng Brothers, who had cleanly cleared the middle and lower-level matches and climbed to the top-level ring on a streak of consecutive victories.
Zheng Qizhi and Zheng Qixiong.
After stepping into the ring, the brothers' gazes remained fixed on Song Ren, their eyes filled with unmistakable hostility.
Then there were the two special fighters described as 'mysterious.'
Regulars at the top-level boxing ring basically knew that "mysterious" meant criminals. It simply wasn't convenient to say so publicly.
Song Ren and another Muay Thai fighter, whose arms and lower legs were wrapped in flax-colored bandages, leaped into the ring one after the other.
The seven fighters each stood in one corner.
The match had yet to begin, but the atmosphere in the ring had already grown heated.
Tyrannosaurus He Ping wiped his head and spat to the side.
"Fuck, I stayed in the middle level for so long and never ran into anyone who could fight."
"Then I came up here, and two of you are actually among my opponents."
Iron Hand Zhang Shicheng's expression darkened. He Ping of the ninth platform was a monster well known throughout the middle-level ring.
If that bastard hadn't been acting as the gatekeeper on the ninth platform, he would have advanced long ago.
The same went for the Black fighter Baron. They had only gotten the chance to fight their way to the top-level ring after Tyrannosaurus gave up the ninth-platform title a few days ago and chose to advance.
Otherwise, who knew how long they would have had to wait?
They simply hadn't expected to encounter a Zhulu Dou in their very first match after advancing—and this monster was among their opponents.
Both of them, including Baron, were lower-level champions in the middle-level ring and deeply hated He Ping for acting as the gatekeeper.
But in a one-on-one fight, they truly couldn't beat him.
The two exchanged a glance, then simultaneously turned their gazes toward Tyrannosaurus He Ping, their eyes meaningful.
Aside from banning weapons, Zhulu Dou imposed no other restrictions, including on ganging up.
That was the main reason a single Zhulu Dou could directly grant five victories.
It was precisely because the difficulty was so high, while the level of brutality was equally extreme.
The Zheng Brothers had changed into close-fitting shorts suitable for fighting. Staring at Song Ren, they spoke meaningfully.
"We told you the last time we met, didn't we?"
"We told you to wait for us. We were coming to beat you to death."
"We do what we say. If we said we'd beat you to death, then we'll definitely beat you to death!"
"Now, we're here to fulfill that promise."
Song Ren first swept his gaze across the entire ring before returning it to the Zheng Brothers.
At those words, a faint smile appeared at the corners of his mouth instead.
He extended his left hand, then slowly straightened one finger from his clenched fist and crooked it upward twice.
"Come on."
The Zheng Brothers' eyes immediately reddened.
They had clawed their way up from the very bottom and suffered far too much. After finally following Brother Guo, they had at last gained a chance to rise to prominence.
What they hated most was being looked down on.
Song Ren's contemptuous gesture had continued to look down on the two brothers ever since their last meeting.
If we don't kill him today, we'll swear off being human!
The final Muay Thai fighter sensed that everyone else in the ring seemed to be ignoring him, and he immediately grew dissatisfied.
He kicked off his cloth shoes and planted his bandage-wrapped feet in the center of the ring.
He, too, carried the crime of murder on his shoulders. He had fled here and been bought off by a major underworld boss.
The ruthlessness in his bones was in no way inferior to anyone else's.
To stand in the top-level boxing ring, his abilities had naturally been tested. No one knew how many banana trees he had kicked apart with his legs.
Moreover, Muay Thai was known as the strongest standing combat art, also called the Eight-Limb Boxing Art.
He had absolute confidence in his own skills.
In a slightly stiff tone, he provoked everyone. "Since the winner takes all, it seems that winner can only be me."
When Tyrannosaurus He Ping heard this, his violent temper flared at once. He pointed at the fighter's nose and cursed, "Fuck off, Thai! Did you eat athlete's foot? Why do you stink when you talk?"
"And you say it can only be you? Once the match starts, I'll make sure it can only be you!"
The Muay Thai fighter's gaze was sharp, but he remained silent.
He merely raised a thumb toward the others, swept it around at everyone, then slowly turned it downward.
At once, most of the fighters on the platform glared at him.
That Thai was far too arrogant!
The Zhulu Dou had yet to officially begin, but the smell of gunpowder above had already grown increasingly intense.
Even the spectators could feel it. Quite a few seemingly refined onlookers couldn't help tugging at their slightly tight collars.
A dry-mouthed, parched anticipation had already taken hold.
Song Ren was somewhat affected by the atmosphere as well. Caught up in the excitement, he drew in a deep breath.
Then he steadily stepped forward.
There was a saying in Southern Fist: only by training hard bridges and solid stances could one fight with firm, steady steps!
Previously, in Stanley Prison, he had still needed to hold back somewhat. He couldn't possibly cut loose and kill people in there.
But here, on this ring, he could completely unleash himself and act without restraint.
People dying in the ring was a common occurrence, to say nothing of here.
The Fook Shing boxing ring, renowned for its bloodshed and brutality.
Song Ren exhaled slowly, the light gathering in his eyes fading away. His dark eyes were as calm as still water.
Martial arts were not literary games.
Knowing when to stop only existed in friendly sparring.
On an underground ring brimming with hostility, showing mercy was undoubtedly a crime.
Song Ren silently settled into a solid stance, lowered his shoulders and elbows, and suppressed the surge of vicious intent in his chest. Finally, he spoke calmly.
"Everyone, please enlighten me!"
Inside a VIP room on the third floor.
Tong Peipei, who had been looking forward to this Zhulu Dou for a long time, saw Song Ren's stance, especially the instant he uttered those words.
A certain term abruptly and heavily crashed into her heart—
Martial Man!