Chapter 1037 — The Underground Boxing Ring's Scheme
This was nothing like the fights Yang Maoling usually got into! However good Yang Maoling might be at brawling, it was still just brawling — hurting a man, injuring him. This stocky fellow was beating his opponents to death! Every punch he threw was aimed at a vital spot, either the head or the chest, every strike lethal!
Watching the stocky man's opponent dragged off the stage like a dead dog, soundless and limp, cold sweat broke out all over Yang Maoling's forehead in a sharp burst!
He regretted it! He truly regretted it! He should never have trusted Little Mule's words and chased this unrealistic dream of easy money.
At last the stocky man struck again — a punch landed with a "bang" on his opponent's temple. In an instant the temple caved sharply inward, then suddenly bulged back out, swelling into a great lump the size of a tumor!
The bear-like opponent's body convulsed twice, then crashed to the floor without the slightest hesitation.
The stocky man had won again!
He raised both arms high, soaking in the cheers of victory from the crowd below the ring.
Two fights, and he had already turned a profit of a million! Finish the third, and today he would walk away with one and a half million — a rather generous purse by the standards of his career as an underground fighter! Otherwise the stocky man would never have traveled all the way from Thailand to Songshan City.
He was a Muay Thai expert, once a professional athlete, and after retiring he had devoted himself entirely to matches in the underground rings! Many retired fighters only grow weaker with the years, but the stocky man was different — his current strength was even greater than at the peak of his days as a legitimate athlete!
Especially after he had picked up some killer's techniques from a third-rate assassin — that had made him all the more formidable!
And that was not all. The other reason he was so formidable was that he had taken up the path of a cultivator — an outer-path cultivator, on the verge of reaching the Yellow Rank. That was why his strength was so overwhelming!
"Mule, brother... I don't want to fight..." Yang Maoling had broken out in a dripping sweat as he watched the live feed of the match in the ring. He loved money, but he did not love it enough to die!
"The life-and-death agreement is already signed. You have only one choice — get in the ring!" Little Mule looked at Yang Maoling coldly and spoke in a flat tone.
"I'm just not going to fight, and what can you do about it? Life-and-death agreement? Don't think that just because I'm a small-time thug I don't know — that kind of thing has no legal force! Send me in against him, and I go up there to die!" Yang Maoling, desperate to stay alive, no longer cared about falling out with Little Mule, even though he knew the underground ring had to be backed by some enormous power!
"Oh?" Little Mule sneered, and the black muzzle of a pistol was already pointed at Yang Maoling. "Then you can go die right now!"
"Gah?!" The gun was suddenly pressed to Yang Maoling's head, and he was so startled that he began shaking all over with fright. "You... you people..."
"Fight, and there's a chance you live — and you get the prize money!" Little Mule gave a cold hum. "Don't fight, and you get not a cent. You die right now!"
Yang Maoling was struck dumb. He was only the lowest sort of thug — when had he ever seen a handgun? With the pistol pointed at him, he was shaking from head to toe, and he did not doubt for a moment that Little Mule would dare to shoot him dead! After all, he had seen with his own eyes the stocky man beat two men to death!
Which was to say, they did not fear death here at all. A man dies, and that was that!
So Yang Maoling gave in. He dropped to his knees all at once. "Mule, brother, I really don't want to die, I'm begging you, I don't want to die, I haven't lived long enough!"
"Don't want to die?" Little Mule paused as if in thought, and put on a great show of consideration. "Then wait here. I'll go ask the boss."
"Yes, yes!" How would Yang Maoling dare to be slow? He nodded and agreed in a fluster.
In truth, Little Mule only stepped out the door, turned around, and came back. This was nothing that needed discussing — it had all been planned in advance! Even the earlier live feed of the match had been shown to Yang Maoling on purpose, all to frighten him, to make him take the bait! Otherwise, if they really wanted to send Yang Maoling into the ring to be beaten to death, there would have been no need to show him any of that — they could simply have told him to get ready and go up!
"The boss says he can guarantee you a win, but of the five hundred thousand you're owed, he can only give you three hundred thousand. Do you have any objection?" Little Mule asked, back in the room.
"Fine, fine!" When Yang Maoling heard that he would not only be guaranteed a win but would still get three hundred thousand, it seemed the greatest stroke of luck in the world! His bottom line had only ever been to stay alive; as far as he was concerned, they could have given him nothing at all. This three hundred thousand felt like a windfall!
"Before you go up there, I'll give you an injection. It's similar to the Strength Pills from before—it'll give you an incomparably ferocious, superhuman strength for thirty minutes!" Little Mule said. "But you have to kill your opponent within those thirty minutes! Otherwise, once the thirty minutes are up, you're on your own!"
"That... are the Strength Pills really that good?" Yang Maoling was half convinced and half doubtful, afraid that Little Mule had just cooked up some random drug to trick him into the ring.
"Why would I bother lying to you? This dose is expensive. If the boss didn't think that stocky brute had already won two matches and the betting on the third was getting out of hand—that if he won again, the boss would lose a fortune—do you think you'd get a drug this pricey?" Little Mule snorted with some disdain. "After deducting your two hundred thousand, it still wouldn't cover the cost of this vial!"
"So that's how it is! Heh heh, I understand now!" The moment Yang Maoling heard Little Mule's explanation, confidence surged through him!
What Little Mule said was true enough. Aside from the fights themselves, the boss also ran the books on the betting at this underground arena. As things stood, the stocky brute had won two in a row, and the stakes on the third match were bound to hit a peak! No one, surely, would put money on a long shot like Yang Maoling—they'd all back the stocky brute!
In that case, if the stocky brute won again, the boss of the underground arena would be looking at a massive loss!
At that thought, a quiet wariness stirred in Yang Maoling's heart. He made up his mind: once this fight was over, he would take the money and go, and never enter a match like this again—not even with the Strength Pill!
Otherwise, the more he won and the more money rode on him, the more the arena boss would find some way to wipe him out!
The stocky brute seemed to have expended no stamina at all; the previous two matches had been mere warm-ups. He stood on the ring radiating dominance, looking with contempt at Yang Maoling, whose hair was dyed green!