The Golden Bell Shield

Bai Lang twirled the glass in his hand, gently pushing the woman nestled in his lap aside. He looked at the person pulling out pills and said, "No, I don't take this stuff. And," Bai Lang downed the drink in his glass, "I should get back and rest. Have fun, you guys." He specifically emphasized the words "have fun." The guy who pulled out the pills looked extremely displeased, and the others chiming in were equally unhappy, but there wasn't much they could say.

After all, Bai Lang was still their boxer. Furthermore, enticing or forcing him would require more than just these few people. If they could force him, others would have stepped in long ago. Now that Bai Lang wanted to leave, none of them dared to stop him—though someone was brave enough to make a call immediately after Bai Lang left. Since the plan to control the boxer with addictive drugs, which was cheaper, had temporarily failed, they decided to go back to the traditional method of buying him off with money.

This method was more expensive, but it had a higher success rate and created a better atmosphere between the parties. When Bai Lang returned to his residence, he found his agent, who handled his match affairs, already waiting for him. The agent was direct, pulling out a stack of US dollars and stating his hope for a fixed fight. Bai Lang almost burst out laughing. "You're doing this so crudely? Shouldn't you at least chat first, talk about future matches, then indirectly mention the higher-ups' intentions before trying to buy me off with money? You're being so blunt right from the start? But I like it."

Bai Lang looked at his agent. "Fixed fights? That's fine, but you'd better pick suitable opponents. If you're going to cooperate with me in a performance, your acting skills should at least be decent." Bai Lang wasn't obsessed with maintaining his undefeated reputation—he was confident in his Martial Arts and felt that winning or losing wouldn't affect his belief that he was the strongest person in this world.

Bai Lang believed this because his Golden Bell Shield had broken through the first level, and his Tiger Form had been achieved. He could now be considered a martial artist—were there still such people in this world? Perhaps if one could cultivate internal energy, but this world likely couldn't cultivate it after all. The world was fundamentally flawed, making the entry-level cultivation of internal energy almost impossible. He didn't know if there were still any experts in China who could approach his level, but in Southeast Asia, there probably weren't any.

Fixed fights didn't affect him, and he could get some money out of it, so there was no downside. However, Bai Lang's request was that he wanted to play with guns too. That was easy. Thailand was an extremely lax place, and getting a few guns to play with in the countryside wasn't a big deal for these organizations. However, they wouldn't let him play with stronger weapons; handguns were their limit—and that was only because Bai Lang was cooperating.

Relying on his strong control over his body, Bai Lang quickly got used to firing a handgun. What he wanted to understand wasn't the power of the handgun but how to counter handguns and long guns. "Dodging bullets is unrealistic, at least for now. But by judging the shooter's muscles, gaze, and using my sixth sense, I should be able to successfully avoid the line of fire. Against an armed enemy, I can only attack proactively, eliminating him before he hits you."

Bai Lang also thought and simulated during his rest. He believed he could do it because his Lightness Skill could accelerate to very high speeds over short distances, fast enough that a gunman wouldn't have time to shift their aim and react. "However, facing multiple gunmen would be very dangerous." Bai Lang understood this clearly. Against a single gunman, he could completely ignore them, but he wasn't sure how many he could handle against multiple opponents. If there were about ten people, he probably couldn't.

Then he would try his best not to let himself fall into such a situation. At least if he were allowed to go all out with assassinations, there probably wouldn't be anyone who could withstand his attack—though Bai Lang had no intention of challenging places with constant surveillance.

However, these people had never given up on controlling him in a less costly way, and Bai Lang did realize he might have made a mistake—once he agreed to fix a fight, more followed, and not just fixed fights, but he was even needed as a bodyguard. And not just any bodyguard; in Bai Lang's view, he seemed to be acting as a bodyguard for some drug traffickers.

Frankly, Bai Lang found it boring. He had some money now, and he deeply detested the sale of such drugs. "Sometimes I think I'm too easygoing," he said when his agent once again asked him to do something similar, this time in Chinese. The agent was a typical short, dark-skinned Thai man, small and wiry, blinking at Bai Lang. He could understand some Chinese and was likely wondering what the boxer was saying.

However, he probably sensed that the atmosphere was wrong. Before he could react, Bai Lang simply pressed on his neck, causing the man to slump onto the chair, unconscious. As Bai Lang walked out, no one paid him much attention, so he swaggered away.

Bai Lang's identity couldn't withstand scrutiny, so he couldn't get a passport or leave the country—at least not to places like Singapore. However, he could try to sneak into other countries. "With my skills, where can't I go?" Bai Lang thought. But before that, the criminal gambling syndicate seemed to be looking for him—after all, he knew a bit about their illegal drug trafficking.

Finding Bai Lang wasn't difficult. His appearance was quite striking—at 1.8 meters tall, he was noticeable even in Thailand, not to mention his handsome, masculine features. As a Chinese person, he stood out even more—his demeanor was different. And he wasn't in a tourist hotspot like Bangkok; finding him in an ordinary rural town in Thailand wouldn't be difficult.

This time, Bai Lang didn't deliberately hide his tracks. He found a hotel and traveled between cities by bus, looking for opportunities 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're skilled practitioners." A smile touched Bai Lang's lips, and he positioned himself on the side facing the door, ready.

Of course, they wouldn't start shooting immediately, but the door was indeed kicked open with great force. All three were professional fighters. The first one charged in with a special cowhide shield, clearly prepared, attempting to pass through the entryway unharmed. Bai Lang, naturally, saw the other two holding knives. He had already retreated the moment the door was kicked open. As for the one charging with the cowhide shield, Bai Lang simply unleashed a Long Fist, executed with perfect form, right at his face.