Chapter 14

"Boom..." At the C-Class No. 8 arena, a series of roars like surging waves rolled over, even overpowering the intense, deafening rock music.

The heat wave that hit the face was mixed with the smell of nicotine, alcohol, and strong hormones, with a faint hint of blood.

Around the circular arena, there were tiered seats in a circle, ensuring everyone had a good view. However, no one was sitting; the hundreds of people on site were all standing, waving their arms and roaring in rhythm: "Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!"

They clutched dirty bills, their faces contorted with sweat, their eyes filled with madness and a thirst for the thrill of blood, even hoarse, they still roared louder.

Inside the six-meter-diameter circular arena, a black boxer, bare-chested, was riding on the back of a white boxer who had already been knocked down and lost his fighting ability. However, the black boxer did not stop, instead roaring wildly, his fists like rain, pounding fiercely on the back of the white boxer's head.

The referee did not call a stop. In fact, the only rule in black boxing was no rules. The referee's role was mainly to host and commentate, as well as to—stir up the atmosphere.

"Bang bang bang..."

The black boxer's punches hit flesh, and he was not wearing gloves; the white boxer had no headgear, so each punch resulted in blood and flesh flying!

The bright red blood and shredded flesh, under the white lights, had a strangely alluring beauty, splattering everywhere, staining the white arena with blood-red plum blossoms.

This greatly stimulated the senses of the spectators, who howled like a pack of wolves, each punch seeming to touch their G-spots, making their bodies tremble violently as if in spasm.

In the front row of the seats were luxurious sofa chairs, reserved for VIPs. However, there were not many VIPs today, and most of the sofa chairs were empty.

The C-Class arena was still too low for the VIPs; it was more of a调剂, like eating wild vegetables after being accustomed to rich food.

Most of the spectators in the C-Class arena were from the lowest rungs of society, suffocating under the pressure of survival, seeking stimulation and release here. They would place bets, but rarely give tips. However, they were very easy to satisfy; what the VIPs found numbing, they found extremely stimulating.

Today's VIPs were a group of young people, all around twenty years old. Although they all appeared to be wealthy and noble, one long-haired man stood out, and upon closer inspection, the other young people subtly gathered around him.

"Brother Li, the C-Class arena is only this level. If you want to see something good, you should go to the A-Class arena," a young man with oiled hair and a perfumed handkerchief covering his nose said to the long-haired man. "Look, the fighting here is too childish, no martial arts at all, and the air is so foul..."

The long-haired man reached out, spreading his fingers like a rake, combing his long hair back, revealing his broad forehead and deep-set eyes, and smiled. "Xiao Er, you don't understand.

"Although the C-Class arena rarely has boxers skilled in martial arts, the simple and brutal fighting style, the sensory stimulation of each punch hitting flesh, can be just as thrilling.

"The air here may not be fresh, but don't you feel it stirs up the hidden impulses in your nature? Hehe, since we're here, let's enjoy it. Even eating rich food all the time can get boring."

"Brother Li is right, hehe," the young man with oiled hair and a perfumed handkerchief laughed, his task today being to cater to Brother Li's every need. Whatever Brother Li said, he agreed.

Holding a busty woman in his arms, Xiao Er's mind was not on the woman. He deeply knew that if he could connect with Brother Li, it would greatly benefit him in the future.

So, after a moment's thought, Xiao Er said to Brother Li, "They're faking it. It looks bloody, but they're not hitting vital spots. Otherwise, why would it take so many punches? These boxers are just faking it. They won't play for real unless someone throws money. Brother Li, let's push them a bit!"

Seeing that Brother Li did not object, Xiao Er stood up, and one of his bodyguards stepped forward. The bodyguard carried a briefcase filled with cash for the evening's boxing matches. After a long time, the bodyguard understood Xiao Er's intentions with just a glance, and took out two stacks of Sun Coins, handing them to Xiao Er.

Xiao Er raised the Sun Coins, shaking them in his hand. Under the fluorescent lights, the Sun Coins glowed a faint golden yellow, the color of the sun and an anti-counterfeiting mark. In the dark surroundings, it was as if he held a small sun in his hand.

The black boxer on the stage was immediately drawn to the Sun Coins, his eyes filled with greed, like a hungry wolf seeing fresh meat.

Xiao Er was very satisfied with the black boxer's reaction and the spectators' reaction. When he stood up and raised the Sun Coins, the previously noisy arena fell silent, and everyone watched the Sun Coins in Xiao Er's hand with excitement, knowing that something good was about to happen.

A sense of superiority arose in Xiao Er. He pointed at the black boxer with a delicate finger and said lightly, "Kill him!"

His words were casual, but they acted like a stimulant to the black boxer, who roared and, like a madman, grabbed the white boxer's head and twisted it fiercely!

A series of "cracks" sounded, and the white boxer's head was twisted to the back, his blue, dead fish eyes filled with disbelief and fear, clearly not understanding why the fake fight had turned real...

Xiao Er smiled, raised his hand, and threw the Sun Coins into the air. "Rustle rustle..." The Sun Coins scattered and flew, the golden yellow light flickering under the fluorescent lights, like a brilliant snowfall.

"Ao ao ao—" After a brief silence, everyone erupted in wild cheers!

A murder on the spot!

Too thrilling!

Their eyes flashed with a crimson light, and at this moment, they forgot about the harsh managers at work, the nagging and petty wives at home, and the early-romancing, failing sons. The pent-up frustration and resentment in their hearts were released in this moment.

Although their income was not high, some spectators, in their excitement, still threw the bills they had been clutching in their sweaty hands. Their emotions reached a climax.

Xiao Er shrugged and sat back down, looking at Brother Li like a child showing off to a parent. Brother Li smiled, "Xiao Er, you're quite good at this."

"Average, average," Xiao Er felt Brother Li was praising him and grinned, his hand reaching into the busty woman's collar.

Brother Li turned his head, subtly curling his lips, thinking, "Just a country bumpkin."

"The next match—The White Tiger from the Ice Plains!" The referee, seeing the intense atmosphere, shortened the interval between matches and called out in a provocative tone, "Welcome... the challenge of the King! Yes, this is a new boxer! But his nickname is 'King'! Is this a sign that he will become the King of Black Boxing? Let's see if this rookie will become the King of the night or the White Tiger's midnight snack!"

"Boom—" The spectators, already excited, reacted even more strongly. When the White Tiger, a 190 cm tall bald and muscular man, walked out in a blue cape, the spectators erupted in cheers: "White Tiger! White Tiger! White Tiger!"

"Seems this White Tiger has some fame," Brother Li, ignoring the resentful look of the woman beside him, leaned back comfortably. "I wonder how this rookie will fare."

"What? Brother Li, interested in this rookie?" Xiao Er, hearing this, chimed in.

"I'm just interested in his nickname," Brother Li chuckled. "Haven't seen such a provocative nickname in a long time."

Xiao Er's eyes twinkled. "Brother Li, how about we place a small bet?"

Brother Li habitually combed his long hair back, his deep eyes gleaming with a hint of evil. "Sure! We're friends, so let's not go too big. How about one million?"

"..." Xiao Er felt like he had swallowed a bitter herb. He had intended to please Brother Li, but one million was not a small amount for him. He was young, and his monthly allowance was only 800,000. However, he couldn't back down now, so he said, "Brother Li is right, going too big is not good. One million is just right. So, Brother Li, who will you bet on?"

Brother Li did not speak, his eyes, partially hidden by his long hair, looking at the boxer's entrance. Wang Ge, wearing a red cape, walked out confidently.

No one knew the "King's" real name, so when he entered, the noisy environment quieted down, but some of the White Tiger's fans shouted:

"Ridiculous King! White Tiger will kill him!"

"Scare this pretty boy until he shits himself!"

The crude words made many spectators laugh. The White Tiger stood on the stage, looking down contemptuously at the approaching Wang Ge, deciding to use this rookie to achieve his winning streak.

The intense rock music pounded like a hammer on the heart, the spectators' shouts and curses adding to the无形 pressure. The air had a strange smell, making it hard to breathe, and his body reacted faithfully, muscles tensing, fingers trembling, blood boiling.

Wang Ge knew that, despite his verbal disdain, his body seemed to enjoy this stimulation.

This stimulation was called—battle.