Chapter 113: Let’s Go!
On the third floor, Fang Ziming stared intently at Lin Mu, his hand tightening around his wine glass.
CRACK!
The glass shattered. Crimson, blood-like wine mixed with fresh blood flowed down his hand. Paying the injury no mind, he turned to Hai Feng in the ring and uttered three words.
"Kill him!"
Hai Feng nodded silently, his face filled with murderous intent as he looked at Lin Mu.
"Fine, since you’ve decided, have it your way," the referee announced. "Now, the match begins!"
After speaking, the referee stepped aside, his expression indifferent. He had already warned Lin Mu, after all. If the man stubbornly sought death, he couldn’t blame anyone but himself.
Hai Feng, though only 1.6 meters tall and slim, possessed explosive strength. As the champion with a hundred consecutive wins, his skill was beyond doubt.
After putting on his boxing gloves, he sneered dismissively at Lin Mu, waving his fist. "Kid, I’ll make you realize that daring to challenge me will have a dire outcome..."
He didn’t finish his words. All he saw was a blur as someone appeared before him. An intense pain shot through his neck, and his vision began to spin. He saw the frozen smiles on the faces of the crowd below, which then twisted into expressions of shock and terror. He even saw his own body slowly collapsing onto the ring.
Dead? I’m dead!
That was Hai Feng’s last thought.
BANG!
A blood-drenched head dropped heavily. Before it even hit the ground, Lin Mu kicked it, sending it flying straight toward Fang Ziming on the third floor.
Fang Ziming hadn’t recovered from his earlier shock when he saw a dark shadow whistling toward him and subconsciously reached out to catch it.
"Ah!"
Seeing Hai Feng’s head, his eyes wide and unblinking in death, Fang Ziming screamed in terror and frantically threw it away.
Utter silence fell over the entire arena.
Everyone’s eyes widened, their mouths agape, staring in disbelief at the headless corpse on the stage.
Hai Feng, the champion with one hundred consecutive wins, was dead just like that? What was most eerie was that from beginning to end, none of them had clearly seen how he had died.
Someone started retching, and soon everyone else joined in. They enjoyed gore and excitement and had seen plenty of bloody scenes. They hadn’t reacted this way when Wu Hao died, but they had never witnessed anything like this—a man’s head knocked clean off, his blood spraying across the ring.
"This is the first time I’ve ever encountered such a weak champion with a hundred consecutive wins," Lin Mu said, slowly shaking his head. He looked up toward the third floor where Fang Ziming’s face was incredibly grim as he stared back. Lin Mu offered an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, I went a bit overboard and killed your man. You aren’t angry, are you?"
Meeting Lin Mu’s gaze, Fang Ziming felt a chill run down his spine. "How is this possible?" he said incredulously.
Experts who could achieve a hundred consecutive wins in his club were exceedingly rare, and Hai Feng’s total number of fights was far beyond a hundred. Even Wu Hao had been no match for him! But Lin Mu had just killed him. And it was an instant kill!
Hearing Lin Mu’s words, the shocked crowd finally came to their senses. The gazes directed at Lin Mu were now a complex mixture of shock, fear, and admiration. Previously, they had thought he was a reckless fool courting death. Now, it was clear he had real skill.
Liu Zijian clenched his jaw, a fierce look on his face.
Elder Brother Mu is amazing!
On the stage, Lin Mu seemed to ignore everyone’s gazes. Instead, he looked at Fang Ziming and said, "Young Master Fang, is there anyone else who wants to challenge me? If not, I’ll pick my next opponent myself."
What? He was going to continue?
Everyone’s hearts leaped, and their mouths went dry. Was this guy overconfident? Suppressing their shock, they remembered Lin Mu’s earlier vow to destroy the club. Even if he couldn’t actually do that, he was clearly intent on thoroughly humiliating Fang Ziming.
Fang Ziming’s face grew so dark it looked as if water could drip from it. He gripped the third-floor railing tightly and snarled, "Kid, I underestimated you. But do you think killing Hai Feng makes you invincible? I’ll show you the consequences of causing trouble on my turf!"
To him, Hai Feng was among the weakest of his fighters. Of course, a club had to use certain methods to generate hype and make money. Hai Feng’s hundred-win streak was heavily padded. The same went for Wu Hao, whom Hai Feng had killed. Both were merely champions packaged by the club for show. For Lin Mu to think he could destroy his club just by killing Hai Feng was delusional.
Fang Ziming’s gaze shifted to a corner near the stage, where a dozen of the club’s true experts were seated.
He pointed to the tallest, most muscular man among them. "Zhou Peng, you’re up. Kill him, and I’ll give you a million!"
Zhou Peng’s face lit up with joy. He stood with a powerful motion and walked toward the stage.
A million! No one better try to take this from me!
As he stepped onto the stage, the crowd below erupted in shocked murmurs.
"It’s him! Zhou Peng, ranked twenty-first in the club! They say he once took on two opponents at the same time and won. His punches are incredibly fast!"
"Sigh, this Lin Mu guy got cocky. He’s way too overconfident."
"Who cares? As long as we get a good show!"
Zhou Peng was a head taller than Lin Mu and built like a bull. He slowly walked toward his opponent, pulling on his gloves as he spoke. "Kid, I won’t take advantage of you. Go find yourself a pair of gloves."
Lin Mu slowly shook his head. "I don’t need them."
Zhou Peng looked at Lin Mu with a hint of pity and said no more. After putting on his gloves and warming up, he beckoned to Lin Mu with a crooked finger.
A faint smile touched Lin Mu’s lips as he stepped forward, slowly walking toward Zhou Peng.
BOOM!
Zhou Peng stomped on the stage and shot forward like a ferocious tiger, his fist suddenly smashing toward Lin Mu’s temple.
"So fast!" the crowd gasped, many holding their breath.
Fang Ziming slowly lit a cigar for himself.
It’s settled!
But in the next moment, a collective gasp erupted from the crowd. Fang Ziming mechanically turned his gaze back to the ring. His whole body trembled, and the cigar dropped from his lips.
On the stage, two figures stood facing each other. Zhou Peng was frozen in his punching stance, a fierce smile still on his face.
Lin Mu had raised a single hand, catching Zhou Peng’s fist.
"He... caught it?"
The whole place was in an uproar. Countless people stood up, shocked at the scene, feeling as if their entire worldview had been shattered.
"And you thought this pathetic speed was worth showing off?" Lin Mu grinned. His palm suddenly tightened, twisting Zhou Peng’s fist in his grip. "Off you go!"