Chapter 1037 — The Underground Arena's Conspiracy
This was a world apart from the fights Yang Maoling was used to! However good Yang Maoling might be at brawling, brawling was all it was — leaving a man bruised and bloodied. But this stocky brute was beating men to death! Every punch he threw was aimed at a vital spot, the head or the chest, every strike lethal!
Watching the stocky brute's opponent dragged off the stage like a dead dog, not a sound left in him, cold sweat came pouring down Yang Maoling's forehead!
He regretted it! He truly regretted it! He should never have trusted Little Mule's words and chased this pipe dream of easy money.
At last the stocky brute struck again. With a "bang," his fist slammed into his opponent's temple. In an instant the temple caved in sharply — then suddenly bulged back out, swelling into a great lump like some enormous tumor!
The bear-like opponent's body convulsed twice, then crashed to the ground, without the slightest hesitation.
The stocky brute had won again!
He raised both arms high, basking in the cheers of victory from the crowd below!
Two fights in, he had already pocketed a million yuan! After the third fight, he would walk away with one and a half million today — a fairly high purse for his career in underground fighting! Otherwise the stocky brute would never have come 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 to the underground arena! Many retired fighters only grew weaker with time, but the stocky brute was different — his current strength even surpassed the peak he had reached as a professional athlete!
Especially after learning some killer's finishing moves from a third-rate assassin, he had grown even more formidable!
Of course, that was not all. The reason he was so formidable was also that he had set foot on the path of a cultivator. He was an external-path cultivator, on the verge of reaching Yellow Rank strength, which was why his power was so overwhelming!
"Mule... I don't want to fight anymore..." Watching the live broadcast of the match in the arena, Yang Maoling was drenched in sweat. He loved money, yes, but he did not want to die!
"The life-and-death agreement is already signed. You have exactly one choice — get in the ring!" Little Mule looked at Yang Maoling coldly and said flatly.
"I'm not fighting, and what are you going to do about it? Life-and-death agreement? Don't think 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'm a dead man the moment I step up!" To stay alive, Yang Maoling no longer cared about falling out with Little Mule, though he knew full well that behind the underground arena there had to be a massive 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?!" Yang Maoling was startled to find the gun aimed at his head, and he began trembling all over with fright. "You... you people..."
"Fight, and you might live — and you get prize money!" Little Mule snorted. "Don't fight, and you get not a cent, and you die right now!"
Yang Maoling was dumbstruck. He was the lowest rung of small-time thug — where would he ever have seen a pistol? With the gun pointed at him, he shook from head to toe, and he did not doubt for a second that Little Mule would dare to shoot him dead! After all, he had seen with his own eyes the stocky brute kill two men!
In other words, this place did not fear death at all. If you died, you simply died!
So Yang Maoling caved. He dropped to his knees at once. "Mule, I really don't want to die, I'm begging you, I don't want to die, I haven't lived enough yet!"
"Don't want to die?" Little Mule mused for a moment, then put on a show of solemnity. "Then wait here. I'll go ask the boss."
"Yes, yes!" How would Yang Maoling dare to be slow about it? He nodded frantically.
In truth, Little Mule only stepped out the door, made a turn, and came back. There was nothing to discuss at all — it had all been planned in advance! The earlier live broadcast of the fight had been shown to Yang Maoling on purpose, to frighten him, to hook him! Otherwise, if they truly wanted Yang Maoling to go up and be beaten to death, there would have been no need to show him any of it — they could simply have told him to get ready and sent him into the ring!
"The boss says he can guarantee you victory, but of the five hundred thousand you're owed, you only get three hundred thousand. Any objections?" Little Mule asked, back in the room.
"Fine, fine!" When Yang Maoling heard that victory could be guaranteed and he would still get three hundred thousand, it seemed a stroke of enormous good fortune! His bottom line was simply staying alive; as far as he was concerned, he would have gone up for nothing at all. This three hundred thousand was practically a windfall!
"Before you go up, I'll give you an injection. It's similar to the old Strength Pills — it will give you incredibly 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 at the mercy of fate!"
"This... are the Strength Pills really that good?" Yang Maoling was half doubtful, afraid Little Mule had simply made up some drug to trick him into the ring.
"Is there any need to lie to you? This dose is quite expensive. If the boss didn't think that stocky brute winning two in a row had sent the betting on the third fight out of control — that if he won again the boss would lose a fortune — do you think you'd be worth a drug this expensive?" Little Mule snorted with some disdain. "After deducting your two hundred thousand, it wouldn't even cover the cost of this vial!"
"I see! Heh heh, got it!" Hearing Little Mule's explanation, Yang Maoling was suddenly filled with confidence!
What Little Mule said was not wrong. Besides the fights themselves, the boss of the underground arena also ran the betting book. As things stood, the stocky brute had won two in a row, and the betting on the third fight would likely spike to a peak! No one, surely, would bet on the long shot Yang Maoling — everyone would put their money on the stocky brute!
That way, if the stocky brute won again, the boss of the underground arena would lose a fortune!
At that thought, a quiet wariness rose in Yang Maoling's heart. He decided that once this fight was over, he would take the money and go, and never enter this kind of match again — not even with Strength Pills!
Otherwise, if he won too often, if too much money rode on him, the arena boss would still find a way to have him killed!
The stocky brute seemed not to have spent any stamina at all — the previous two fights had been nothing but a warm-up. He stood in the ring radiating dominance, looking with contempt at Yang Maoling, whose hair was dyed green!