Bai Lang turned the cup in his hand and gently pushed the woman sitting in his lap aside. Looking at the man who had taken out the pills, he said, "No, I'm not taking that. Besides—" He downed the drink in his cup. "I should get back and rest. Have a good time." He put particular emphasis on "good time." The man with the pills looked very displeased, as did the few others chiming in, but there was really nothing they could say.
After all, Bai Lang was still their fighter, and this sort of thing required tempting him. These few men couldn't force him even if they wanted to. If they could have, someone else would have stepped in already. Now that Bai Lang was leaving, none of them dared stop him—but someone did dare to make a phone call as soon as he was gone. Since their cheaper plan to control the fighter with addictive drugs had failed for the moment, they would have to go back to the traditional method of buying him off with money.
That would cost more, but it had a better chance of success, and it would keep relations between them on better terms. When Bai Lang returned to where he was staying, he found the agent who handled his fights waiting for him. The agent didn't waste time: he pulled out a stack of dollars and said he wanted Bai Lang to throw a fight. Bai Lang nearly laughed. "You're really that crude about it? At least we should chat first, talk about future fights, then dance around the subject before you get to what the higher-ups want and finally try to buy me off. But you're getting straight to the point as soon as we meet? I like it."
Bai Lang looked at his agent. "Throw a fight? I don't mind, but you'd better pick someone suitable, too. If they're going to put on a show with me, they need at least a little acting skill." Bai Lang wasn't attached to maintaining his reputation as an undefeated fighter. He was confident in his martial arts now, and wins or losses couldn't shake his conviction that he was the strongest man in the world.
That was what Bai Lang believed because he had broken through the first level of the Golden Bell Shield and mastered the Tiger Form. He could now be called a martial artist. Were there still people like that in this world? Perhaps, if someone could cultivate inner strength, but ultimately, it was probably impossible to develop it in this world. The world was flawed; one could hardly even begin the training required to cultivate inner strength. He didn't know whether there were still experts back home who could approach his level, but there probably weren't any in Southeast Asia.
Throwing a fight wouldn't affect him, and he could make some money, so there was nothing wrong with it. But Bai Lang also made it clear that he wanted to try shooting guns. That was easy enough. Thailand was a lawless place, and in the countryside, messing around with a few guns wasn't considered a big deal in an organization like this. They wouldn't let him try anything too powerful, though. A handgun was the limit for these people—and even that was because Bai Lang was cooperating with them.
Relying on his strong control over his own body, Bai Lang quickly got used to firing a handgun. He wasn't interested in learning how powerful a handgun was; he wanted to study how to deal with handguns and rifles. "Dodging bullets isn't realistic, at least not yet. But by reading the shooter's muscles, gaze, and even my sixth sense, I should be able to avoid the line of fire. Against armed enemies, the only option is to strike first and kill them before they can hit you."
Even while resting, Bai Lang thought and ran through scenarios in his mind. He should be able to do it. His lightness skill let him accelerate to tremendous speed over short distances—at least enough that someone with a gun wouldn't have time to shift the muzzle and react. "But facing several armed men would be dangerous." Bai Lang understood that well. One-on-one, he could practically ignore someone with a gun, but he didn't know how many he could take on at once. If there were ten or so, he probably wouldn't manage.
Then he'd better make sure he never got into that situation. At least, if he were free to carry out an assassination, there shouldn't be anyone capable of stopping him—but Bai Lang had no intention of challenging places covered in surveillance cameras.
However, those people never gave up on controlling him by cheaper means. And Bai Lang had indeed realized that he seemed to have made a mistake. Once he threw a fight the first time, more such offers kept coming, and it wasn't just about throwing fights anymore. They even wanted him to work as a bodyguard—and not just for anyone. As far as Bai Lang could tell, he was being asked to protect underlings who sold addictive drugs.
Honestly, Bai Lang thought it was pointless. He had some money now, and he detested the sale of that kind of drug. "Sometimes I think I'm too easygoing." When his agent asked him to do something similar yet again, Bai Lang said this in Chinese. The agent was a typical short, dark-skinned Thai man, thin and bony. He blinked up at Bai Lang—he could understand some Chinese, and was probably wondering what the fighter had just said.
But the man should have sensed that something was wrong. Before he could react, Bai Lang pressed a hand to his neck, and he slumped unconscious in his chair. As Bai Lang walked out, no one paid him any particular attention, so he simply strolled away.
Bai Lang's identity wouldn't withstand scrutiny, so he couldn't get a passport or leave the country—at least, he certainly couldn't go somewhere like Singapore. But he could try to sneak into another country. With my abilities, where couldn't I go? Bai Lang thought. But before that, the criminal gambling syndicate seemed likely to come after him. After all, he knew a little about the group's sale of banned drugs.
Finding Bai Lang wouldn't be difficult. He stood out, after all. At 1.8 meters tall, he was conspicuous in Thailand, and his dignified, masculine features made him stand out even more as a Chinese man. Even his bearing was different. And he wasn't in a tourist hotspot like Bangkok. In an ordinary Thai town or village, someone like him would be easy to find.
This time, Bai Lang hadn't taken any particular care to conceal his movements. He still stayed in hotels, traveling between cities by bus and looking for a chance to sneak across the border. Now he sat in his room, his ears twitching slightly. "Someone's coming. Three of them. Judging by their footsteps and breathing, they know their way around." A smile appeared at the corner of Bai Lang's mouth, and he immediately took up position beside the door, facing it.
Of course, the other side wouldn't start by firing their guns, but they did suddenly kick the door open with tremendous force. All three were professional fighters. The first man charged in with a special cowhide shield held in front of him. They seemed to have prepared for this, hoping to pass through the entryway unscathed. Bai Lang could see that the other two had knives in their hands. The moment the door was kicked open, he had already stepped back. He simply drove a powerful Long Fist straight at the man charging in with the cowhide shield.
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