Martial Man

On the fighting stage, A hostess dressed as a bunny girl with sheer stockings was solemnly introducing the relevant matters for this top-tier boxing match in an enthusiastic tone.

"Tonight's boxing match will be a bloody trial for newcomers."

"It's the most anticipated elimination match among all the bouts, excluding the weapon fights!"

"A total of seven fighters will take the stage tonight, including three strong champions who have been promoted from the mid-tier arena."

"And the Zheng Brothers, who cleared the mid and lower tier arenas in just three days."

"As well as the final two special fighters with 'mysterious' backgrounds!"

"As everyone knows, elimination matches are seven-person free-for-alls, usually held for the new blood in the top-tier arena."

"The rules of the arena are simple: the winner takes all."

"As long as you defeat the other newcomers in this match, you'll qualify to earn five wins at once."

"Within twenty matches, accumulating eighteen wins will allow you to become a top-tier arena champion and enjoy dividend payouts from the Fook Shing Building."

"Currently, the only known top-tier champion is the boxing king, Pretty Sheng."

"Tonight's elimination match is about to begin."

"Now, please welcome the seven fighters for this elimination match to the stage."

As the words fell, several figures of varying heights gradually emerged from the shadows below the stage.

First was the number five champion of the mid-tier arena, Zhang Shicheng, known as Iron Hand, who successfully defended his title with his pair of iron fists.

Next was the number eight champion of the mid-tier arena, Baron, a Black man who made his name with Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. He had broken the bones of six opponents in ten matches and possessed formidable ground techniques.

And then there was the number nine champion of the mid-tier arena.

He wasn't tall, but his body was covered in muscle.

His sweat-soaked shirt couldn't hide his right arm, where a black flood dragon was tattooed on his shoulder, its tail coiling around his entire upper arm.

He was also the crowd favorite of the mid-tier arena, nicknamed Tyrannosaurus, He Ping.

It was said that this Tyrannosaurus never took more than ten rounds to defeat an opponent, and once knocked an opponent out of the ring with a stomach hemorrhage in just three rounds.

Of the over a hundred spectators in this round of elimination matches, nearly half of them had come to cheer for him.

In addition to the three champions who chose to be promoted to the top-tier arena, there were also the Zheng Brothers, who had directly and decisively cleared the mid and lower tier arenas, winning their way up to the top tier in one go.

Zheng Qizhi, Zheng Qixiong.

After the brothers took the stage, their gazes were fixed on Song Ren, with a clear intent to target him in their eyes.

Then came the two special fighters referred to as 'mysterious.'

Regulars at the top-tier arena basically knew that 'mysterious' meant criminals, but it was just inconvenient to state it publicly.

Song Ren and a Muay Thai fighter, who had linen bandages wrapped around his arms and calves, stepped onto the stage one after another.

The seven fighters each stood in a corner.

The match hadn't even begun, but the atmosphere in the arena was already heating up.

Tyrannosaurus He Ping wiped his head and spat to the side, "Damn it, I've been in the mid-tier for so long, and I haven't encountered anyone worth fighting."

"And now that I've moved up, I have to face you two among my opponents."

Iron Hand Zhang Shicheng's face darkened. He Ping, the number nine champion, was a notorious monster in the mid-tier arena.

If it weren't for this guy acting as a gatekeeper on the number nine stage, he would have been promoted long ago.

Baron, the Black man, was in the same boat. They only had a chance to advance to the top-tier arena after Tyrannosaurus gave up the number nine spot a few days ago and chose to be promoted.

Otherwise, who knows how long they would have had to wait.

He just didn't expect that after being promoted, their very first match would be an elimination match, and they would have to face this monster again.

Both he and Baron, as lower-tier champions from the mid-tier arena, deeply resented He Ping's actions of acting as a gatekeeper.

However, they couldn't defeat this guy in a one-on-one fight.

The two exchanged glances and simultaneously turned their gazes to Tyrannosaurus He Ping, their eyes filled with unspoken meaning.

Elimination matches prohibited weapons, but otherwise had no restrictions, including group fighting.

This was also the main reason why an elimination match could directly award five wins.

It was because the difficulty was extremely high, and the bloodshed was incredibly fierce.

The Zheng Brothers changed into close-fitting short attire suitable for fighting, staring at Song Ren, and said meaningfully, "Didn't we tell you last time we met?"

"We told you to wait for us, and we'd come to kill you."

"We keep our promises, if we say we'll kill you, we'll definitely kill you!"

"Now, we're here to fulfill that promise."

Song Ren first scanned the entire venue before his gaze returned to the Zheng Brothers.

Upon hearing that, a slight smile touched the corners of his mouth.

He extended his left hand towards them, then slowly straightened his index finger from his clenched fist, and finally hooked it upwards twice:

"Come on."

The two Zheng Brothers' eyes immediately turned red.

They had crawled up from the very bottom, experiencing too much hardship. Finally, by following Mr. Guo, they had a chance to prosper.

What they hated most was being looked down upon.

Song Ren's dismissive gesture had been belittling to the two brothers since their last meeting.

If we don't beat him to death today, we brothers swear we're not human!

The last Muay Thai fighter, sensing that everyone else in the venue seemed to be ignoring him, immediately felt displeased.

He kicked off his cloth shoes and stood on the stage, his foot wrapped in bandages.

He also carried the charge of murder, having merely fled here and been hired by a big spender.

The ruthlessness in his bones was no less than anyone else's.

To be able to stand on the top-tier boxing ring, his skill was naturally tested; he had broken countless banana trees with his legs.

Moreover, Muay Thai was known as the strongest striking combat sport, also called the Eight-Limbed Boxing technique.

He had absolute confidence in his own skills.

He provocatively addressed everyone in a slightly stiff tone: "Since the winner takes all, it seems it must be me."

Upon hearing this, Tyrannosaurus He Ping immediately lost his temper, pointed at the Muay Thai fighter's nose, and cursed, "F*ck your mother, Thai bastard, do you have athlete's foot that you talk so stinkily!"

"And 'it must be me,' once the boxing match starts, I'll immediately beat you into 'it must be me'!"

The Muay Thai fighter's gaze was sharp, but he remained silent.

He simply gave a thumbs-up to everyone else, circled them, and then slowly inverted it.

At this, most of the fighters on the stage glared at him.

This Thai guy was too arrogant!

At this moment, the "Deer Hunt" had not officially begun, but the gunpowder smell above was becoming increasingly intense.

Even the audience could feel it; many seemingly refined spectators couldn't help but tug at their slightly tight collars.

A dry-mouthed anticipation had already begun to build.

Under such circumstances, Song Ren was also somewhat affected. Caught up in the atmosphere, he took a deep breath.

Then, he steadily took a step forward.

There's a saying in Southern Fist: "Only by training hard and steady can one fight with a solid foundation!"

Previously, in Stanley Prison, he had to restrain himself to some extent; he couldn't go all out and kill people in there.

But here, on this boxing ring, he could completely let loose and act as he pleased.

It was common for people to die in the ring, especially here.

The Fook Shing boxing ring, known for its brutality and savagery.

Song Ren exhaled, the light in his eyes receded, and his dark pupils were as calm as still water.

Martial arts are not about writing or painting.

Stopping at the right moment only exists in friendly sparring.

In a subterranean arena filled with hostility, being soft-hearted was undoubtedly a crime.

Song Ren silently rooted his stance, lowered his shoulders and elbows, suppressed the surging anger in his chest, and finally spoke calmly:

"Gentlemen, I humbly request your guidance!"

In a VIP room on the third floor.

Tong Peipei, who had long been anticipating this "Deer Hunt," upon seeing Song Ren's stance, especially the moment he uttered those words.

One particular word, abruptly and heavily, struck a chord in her heart—

Martial Man!