The Outbreak

The referee and Chen Chong exchanged glances. He raised his brows and stepped back.

Zhang Yao, who had been completely ignored by Chen Chong, stiffened. His expression darkened in an instant.

For one thing, he felt humiliated. He had always liked being praised, and he liked being at the center of the ring.

For another, he felt that Chen Chong was somewhat different from Li Xiaoguang.

He couldn't put his finger on whether it was his demeanor or his presence, but an inexplicable sense of danger rose in him. He decided to strike first. His mind was more subtle than his looks suggested. Tonight was a crucial moment for him, and he wouldn't allow anything to go wrong.

"Quit acting tough, you son of a bitch! Let's see if your head's harder than that last guy's!"

The referee hadn't even made it all the way to the edge of the ring when Zhang Yao spat, took two long strides forward, and clenched his massive fist. His cannon punch came crashing in like a battering ram!

The spectators nearby held their breath.

Zhang Yao's attitude and the strength he displayed were clearly different from before. Even those in the front rows tensed up, instinctively leaning back as if that punch could reach them from across the ring.

Beside a private box high above.

Yu Feng, built like an iron tower, watched the warm-up fighter in the ring, his brows tightly furrowed.

Hadn't he told him not to? Why had he gone up there?

How could he possibly beat Zhang Yao in his current state?

Yu Feng's heart sank.

In his eyes, Zhang Yao's skill and talent were both nothing to write home about.

Give Chen Chong a few more months of training, and this fighter—who could only strut around because his sister sold her body—wouldn't even be fit to carry Chen Chong's shoes.

But he wasn't ready yet. Chen Chong had trained for too little time; he couldn't match his opponent's experience.

Especially after what had just happened. Both sides were riled up and wouldn't hold back. Chen Chong would have a hard time walking out alive. If he merely ended up crippled and carried off, he'd be lucky.

It was obvious that rage had clouded his judgment.

Yu Feng felt a pang of regret.

But even a fighter with great talent would eventually learn the hard way if he couldn't control his emotions. Chen Chong's lesson had simply come unusually early... If it weren't happening here, perhaps Yu Feng could still set him straight. But there was no "perhaps."

Yu Feng had begun to lose himself in thought. After seeing Zhang Yao get serious, he'd already judged the outcome. For once, he almost didn't want to see what happened next.

Then came a muffled thud, and the entire bar fell silent for a moment.

Yu Feng looked up—and froze.

Inside the private box.

Zhou Hu roared loudly, while the woman had gone limp against the windowsill, soaked through and glassy-eyed.

Honestly, the fact that she could handle a fighter of Zhou Hu's caliber meant she was truly gifted. No ordinary man could have been her match.

But at the crucial moment, Zhou Hu suddenly stopped.

The woman looked confused. She instinctively raised her head, and through her blurred vision saw her younger brother fighting someone in the ring again, his fist already connecting with his opponent.

It looked like another satisfying victory. The woman puffed out her chest and smiled proudly.

Zhang Yao's full-power cannon punch closed in. He didn't know why Chen Chong wasn't dodging or even moving, but he wouldn't let that make him hesitate. He drove his fist hard into Chen Chong's chest.

Thud!

The muffled impact drowned out the noise of the entire bar.

The cannon punch hit a palm—and stopped.

It was Chen Chong's left hand.

He had simply raised his left hand and stopped Zhang Yao's heavy punch.

He hadn't even swayed. It was as if he'd casually caught a baseball thrown by a child.

Zhang Yao's eyes widened until they were round as bells.

He could clearly feel that he'd poured all his strength into his opponent's palm, yet Chen Chong didn't react at all!

Being blocked wasn't frightening. Chen Chong had made him wary, but he'd never expected to knock his opponent down with one punch.

But Chen Chong hadn't even taken a step back from his full-force punch, delivered with all his forward momentum. He hadn't even swayed.

It made no sense.

Zhang Yao froze for a moment, then his hair stood on end. He immediately pushed off and retreated, afraid Chen Chong would trap his fist.

The thought flashed through his mind in an instant. His reaction was undeniably quick: he pulled his fist back almost as soon as it made contact and sprang away.

Once he'd created some distance, Zhang Yao's gaze turned vicious. He spun around and twisted at the waist, moving far faster than his build suggested.

Whoosh!

A textbook-high roundhouse kick tore through the air with a shrill burst, reaching Chen Chong's ear in an instant!

He hadn't gotten this far on his sister's help alone. This was his finishing move, one that had ended many formidable opponents. He'd planned to save it for last tonight, to use against Gao Lei.

As his kick flashed toward Chen Chong, it looked like the next instant would see it blow Chen Chong's head apart.

But suddenly, Zhang Yao stopped dead, as if someone had pressed pause.

From extreme motion to complete stillness. Before Zhang Yao could even process what had happened, it felt as if his kick had struck an invisible steel plate. Nothing happened—

Yet with the force behind his kick, even a steel plate would have shattered. If he'd kicked a mountain, he should have felt it give.

But there was no reaction at all, as if his leg's strength had been confiscated. He couldn't adapt to the sudden stillness.

He focused his eyes and realized that Chen Chong had raised his hand again and grabbed his lower leg.

Still, Chen Chong hadn't moved an inch.

Zhang Yao's pupils shrank to pinpricks.

He could have accepted his cannon punch being casually stopped, but this was a roundhouse kick, coming in from the side. How could Chen Chong not move at all?

Before he could figure it out, Chen Chong finally moved.

Just not in the way Zhang Yao had hoped.

Chen Chong's hand suddenly tightened, clamping around Zhang Yao's lower leg like an iron shackle. Then he jerked it upward!

Zhang Yao lost his balance and was flung high into the air. At the peak of his arc, Chen Chong accelerated his downward swing—

Then slammed him into the ground with all his strength!

Boom!

The deafening crash shook the entire ring.

Zhang Yao was dazed and dizzy. All the strength he'd just gathered to fight back drained away.

But that was only the beginning.

Chen Chong lifted Zhang Yao's leg again with one hand and swung the two-to-three-hundred-pound bear of a man through the air like a rag doll, then slammed him down again!

Crash!

His hand didn't stop. He hoisted Zhang Yao up for the third time, then the fourth, then the fifth... One arm hung at his side while the other kept lifting and slamming, slamming and lifting, like an emotionless executioner.

Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom—

The sound of flesh hitting the ground was deafening, in stark contrast to the dead silence throughout the bar.

From the moment Chen Chong caught that first punch and shocked the spectators to now, when he swung Zhang Yao around like a toy despite their mismatched builds, only a few breaths had passed.

The spectators had expected the fight to end quickly. They'd expected blood and gore. But they hadn't expected the two fighters' roles to reverse, nor such a brutal, shocking end!

Even the most experienced spectators had never seen one fighter treat another like a rag doll. They'd seen scenes far bloodier than this, but never anything so savagely violent.

Everyone held their breath, staring wide-eyed at the scene in the ring as blood spread across the floor and flesh and bone fragments flew everywhere, splattering the stunned spectators in the front row.

They would never forget this for the rest of their lives.

The referee stood frozen for a long moment before finally reacting. He hurriedly blew his whistle!

Tweet, tweet—

"Stop! Stop! It's over!"

He shouted and gestured, but Chen Chong slammed Zhang Yao down twice more before finally hurling his mangled body to the ground with a thud. He landed right in front of the referee.

The referee had been about to say something, but he jumped in fright and didn't dare speak. He had a feeling that if he said one more word, he'd be the next one flying through the air.

Chen Chong slowly brought his rhythmic breathing to an end and walked step by step over to Zhang Yao.

One had to admit, those on the verge of reaching that level really were tenacious. Zhang Yao still had a breath left in him.

He turned his head slightly. Though his blurred vision couldn't make out the person's face, he knew Chen Chong was nearby.

"Why...?"

Confusion was all that remained in Zhang Yao's sluggish mind.

How had the finishing move he took pride in become the thing that sealed his fate?

The motion of raising his leg for a roundhouse looked like an opening, but in reality, the kick was so powerful that an opponent at the same level was better off dodging. Even if forced to take it head-on, they would likely stumble or at least need a moment to absorb the force. They could never counterattack immediately.

So as long as a roundhouse kick was practiced well, it couldn't be easily countered—unless the gap between the fighters was truly enormous.

Yet Chen Chong had caught his leg as casually as if it were nothing.

Was the gap between their levels really that huge?

But he could tell that Chen Chong hadn't reached that level yet.

Chen Chong didn't answer. He merely raised his leg.

Before the referee could realize something was wrong, Chen Chong's boot came crashing down.

Crack.

The sickening crunch echoed through the silent bar. Every spectator heard it.

The spectators came to their senses, their breathing gradually growing heavier.

Whoosh!

Outside the Thunder Dragon Bar, everyone turned toward the cheers that nearly lifted the roof off the building, staring in astonishment before turning away again.

Another bloody boxing match had probably ended.

They didn't think much of it, and they couldn't imagine what this day would mean for the town.

To them, it was just another ordinary commotion on Bar Street.

In the ring, Chen Chong looked at the referee, whose expression was complicated, and said calmly:

"Now it's over."

He turned, went around the corner, lifted the ropes, and stepped down from the ring. Then he walked through the passage, leaving a trail of red footprints behind him.

He entered the waiting room and saw Wang Li, Liu Hetao, and several workers in care-assistant uniforms standing inside, all staring at him with the same stunned expression.

When Chen Chong's deep gaze swept over them, the workers hurriedly lowered their heads. They put Li Xiaoguang on a stretcher and carried him away. They were here to deal with the bodies.

The workers carried the stretcher out, down the passage, and through the back door.

Streetlight spilled into the dark passage. Li Xiaoguang had finally left through that exit.

Chen Chong silently watched in that direction and murmured:

"Goodbye, classmate."