Making a Little Money on the Side

"Hey, kid, don't think being big means you'll have an easy ride all the way. Now that you've run into me, this is where your luck ends.

I'm nothing like those useless idiots you fought before."

At midnight, in an underground Fight Club somewhere in Gotham, a burly white man covered in scars, with a vicious-looking face, was trash-talking the expressionless Jack standing before him.

How to put it? The guy was trying very hard to look fierce and intimidate Jack. But he barely came up to Jack's chest, which made the whole scene look utterly ridiculous.

He wasn't short, either. In fact, he was quite tall, standing a full two meters and one centimeter. The problem was that Jack's two-meter-forty-three frame was simply too far beyond the norm.

"Haaah..."

Faced with this childish provocation, Jack couldn't even be bothered to give him another look. He just yawned in boredom.

He had been in Gotham for two weeks now. Aside from running into a few supervillains and heroes during his first few days, life had been pretty uneventful.

Every day was just work, excessive training, excessive drug use, and tending to his wounds.

But his drug consumption was so high that he'd burned through all his money, including the eighty thousand dollars he'd helped Zuo Ci extort from Batman. So he decided to return to his old line of work-underground fighting.

And as luck would have it, Gotham had no shortage of places like this. He could find one without even trying, which saved him quite a bit of trouble.

"Both fighters, take your positions. Ready, fight!"

With the trash talk over, the referee separated the two men, then officially announced the start of the match!

Bam!

Go to... huh? Why does the ceiling look like the ring?

Just as this poor, nameless extra was about to attack with all his strength, he suddenly discovered, to his astonishment, that Jack had vanished from in front of him. Instead, the ring beneath his feet had appeared before his eyes.

Crash!

Less than a second after the match began, a horrifying crack rang out. The unlucky bastard slammed headfirst into the ground, his body as stiff and straight as a falling tree, smashing right through the ring floor.

"Haaah. Boring as hell."

Aside from making money, Jack had another important reason for entering underground fights: he hoped to find some opponents in a place with no rules.

Back in Tokyo in his own world, he'd never lacked "playmates." But since coming here, he hadn't encountered anyone worth taking seriously. Those so-called supervillains weren't to his taste, either.

Batman arguably counted, but he came and went like a ghost. Jack couldn't find him even if he tried.

So he'd come here partly hoping to have some fun.

Unfortunately, everyone he'd encountered so far had been a nobody. Not one had even survived a single probing strike from him.

It was deeply disappointing.

"It's... it's over! Another one-hit knockout! The winner is Jack Hanma!!!"

Finally realizing what had happened, the referee shouted excitedly, while the surrounding spectators erupted into wild cheers as though they'd taken stimulants.

Unlike Jack, who was bored out of his mind, the people here for the spectacle had truly had their eyes opened tonight.

No matter who they were, what reputation they'd had, or what their previous record was, everyone who faced Jack tonight had gone down in a single hit!

It was just so shocking, so staggering, so utterly insane!

The bloodthirsty spectators screamed themselves hoarse. Some of the more unhinged ones had even started stripping and making sexual overtures to Jack.

Yes, both men and women.

"Tch."

Jack cast a contemptuous glance at the lunatics, then turned his head away in disgust. The sight was a little too much for his eyes.

"Hahaha! Come on, come on, pay up! A bet's a bet. Don't even think about welching, I'm warning you! Hahahaha!"

Meanwhile, at a nearby betting table, Zuo Ci laughed shamelessly as he swept stacks of chips into his arms.

Underground fighting generally went hand in hand with gambling, with bets placed on which fighter would win and which would lose.

The heavy snowfall lately had left the shop with hardly any business, and Zuo Ci had been bored out of his mind. When he learned Jack was starting a side hustle, he tagged along to earn some extra cash.

And because the odds on Jack were so high, Zuo Ci's initial two thousand dollars had already grown into several hundred thousand. One more round could take it straight past a million!

"Hold on, why are the odds still so high? Are you sure you adjusted them?"

In the back office, the Fight Club owner broke into a cold sweat as he stared at the inflated odds. This newcomer had already cost him a huge amount of money tonight. If this kept up, he might go bankrupt!

"I'm sure, boss. I've adjusted them several times already, but... but I don't know why they keep changing back to this every time."

The assistant standing beside him was drenched in sweat, too. When Jack first entered the arena, they'd set his initial payout odds low because his physique stood out so much.

And after he'd crushed his opponent in the first match, they'd immediately slashed his odds without a moment's hesitation.

But for some unknown reason, every time they adjusted them, the odds would skyrocket to an absurd level as soon as the round began, costing them a fortune in one go. No matter how they adjusted them afterward, the same thing kept happening.

They were practically ready to explode with panic!

Zuo Ci: Oh my, why are the odds so high? How strange~

Heehee~

"No. We can't let this go on!"

Watching another sum of money disappear, the owner could no longer sit still. He slammed a hand on the desk and shot to his feet.

"Give our fighter the 'drug.' Send him in next round."

"Huh? B-but that 'drug' is currently..."

"Quit wasting my time. Go!"

After kicking his assistant and driving him out, the Fight Club owner sat back down.

Of course he knew how severe the side effects of the drug supplied by the big boss were. But under the circumstances, if he didn't use it now, he'd lose every last cent.

If someone died from the "drug," the worst he'd get was a scolding and dismissal. But if he lost all the funds the big boss had left him, even ten lives wouldn't be enough to pay for it!

"Come on! Let's welcome our next challenger!"

After some quick repairs to the ring, the fights resumed.

This time, Jack's challenger was Luke, the strongest fighter the Fight Club owner kept on his payroll!

He wasn't as tall as the previous man, standing only a little over one meter ninety. But his muscles were a whole size bigger, constantly twitching with excitement, looking packed with explosive power.

Not only that, but his expression was off, too. His eyes were bloodshot, his gaze brutally savage, and rage had twisted his face into something unnatural.

He didn't look like a competitor here for a match at all. He looked more like a wild beast gone berserk, intent on indiscriminately destroying every living thing in front of him.

"Interesting."

As an expert in drug use, Jack could tell at a glance that this guy had definitely taken a high-purity stimulant.

But he had no objection whatsoever. On the contrary, he was excited. Finally, something interesting had turned up tonight...

Huh?

Before Jack could make a move, Luke seemed to genuinely lose his mind. Roaring and bellowing, he scrambled on all fours like a beast, trying to leap out of the ring as he lunged toward the crowd.

"Something's not right..."

Watching Luke's frenzied behavior, Jack had initially assumed he'd simply taken too many stimulants. But now, it seemed things weren't nearly that simple.