Chapter 114: Let’s Go Together!
WHOOSH! The moment Lin Mu finished speaking, he flexed his arm and effortlessly hoisted the six-foot-three Zhou Peng into the air, launching him toward the third floor.
Spinning through the air, Zhou Peng let out a scream of pure terror. Lin Mu had instantly shattered his arms, body, and every bone in his frame. His opponent’s strength had reached an absolute peak, a level that so-called boxers like them could never hope to contend with.
SPLAT!
Zhou Peng crashed heavily in front of Fang Ziming, a mangled heap of flesh and blood, like a side of ruined meat. The sight was as tragic as it was brutally gruesome.
URGH!
Fang Ziming felt his gorge rise and immediately bent over, vomiting on the ground until nothing but stomach acid came up. He then leaped to his feet like a madman, pounding his chest. His face darkened as he glanced down at the burn mark left by a cigarette butt.
But that was nothing. What he truly hated was that Lin Mu had now killed two of his men.
After all, training a boxer like Zhou Peng was no easy feat. It required a massive investment of time and money, not to mention promotion by the club. Each one was a money-making asset. A fighter like Zhou Peng could earn him at least five hundred thousand in a single match. On a good day, he could easily clear several million. But now, Lin Mu had killed him, and so brutally.
"Lin Mu, you’re courting death!" Fang Ziming snarled, his eyes dark. "Do you have any idea who you’ve provoked? I guarantee you won’t be walking out of here today!"
His voice was thick with a hatred so intense he looked ready to tear Lin Mu apart with his bare hands.
Lin Mu said slowly, "What’s the matter? Can’t Young Master Fang take a loss? If that’s the case, how about I give you another chance?"
This time, the crowd fell silent. Lin Mu had fought twice, and both times he had won with devastating ease. If they opened their mouths again, they would just be setting themselves up for humiliation. It was better to just watch the show.
"Good!" Fang Ziming said, taking a long, hard look at Lin Mu. "Zhou Tong, you’re up!"
Zhou Tong was Zhou Peng’s older brother, and his strength ranked among the top three fighters in the entire club. He was more than enough to deal with Lin Mu.
"Kill him, and I’ll give you five million!" Fang Ziming said coldly. "Add that to your brother’s one million, and it’s six million total!"
The man named Zhou Tong nodded. He looked so much like Zhou Peng they could have been twins—exceptionally tall and with a frame that seemed to burst with explosive power. He stood up, his cold gaze locking onto Lin Mu, full of murderous intent.
"Wait."
Just as Zhou Tong was about to step onto the stage, Lin Mu suddenly spoke.
What’s this? Is he getting cold feet? Surely the kid has some self-awareness. He must know that winning two in a row is enough; if he keeps going, he’ll never leave this club alive.
"What, are you scared?" Fang Ziming stared fiercely at Lin Mu. Regretting it now? Is that supposed to help? This young master won’t allow it!
"You misunderstand," Lin Mu said nonchalantly. "Fighting you one by one is no fun. Why don’t you all just come at me at once? Against a bunch of trash like you, what do I, Lin Mu, possibly have to fear? Let’s get this over with so I can go back to my drink."
His words sent the entire venue into an uproar.
All at once? There are twenty experts in the club! Besides Hai Feng and Zhou Peng, that leaves eighteen men! Is he trying to defy the heavens?
Even those who had some faith in Lin Mu couldn’t help but curse him now. One against eighteen? Who does he think he is, Bruce Lee? Ip Man? He’s completely out of his depth! What a reckless fool!
Liu Zijian’s face fell, and he shouted desperately, "Elder Brother Mu, don’t be reckless!" Every single one of these eighteen fighters is tougher than Zhou Peng! If it were one-on-one, I’d still have some confidence. But fighting eighteen at once? That’s impossible! It’s no different from suicide!
Lin Mu ignored the crowd’s outcry, turning his gaze back to Fang Ziming. "Well?" he asked, his tone dismissive. "Do you dare let all your useless subordinates come at me together?"
"Good. Very good. Excellent!" Fang Ziming snarled, his face a twisted mask of fury. "Since you’re so determined to die, fine! I’ll grant your wish! Zhou Cheng, Li Wan, Zhang Du... all of you, get up there together! If you kill him, I’ll give each and every one of you five million!"
As he finished speaking, over a dozen fighters from their designated area stepped onto the stage together, their gazes fixed on Lin Mu with either coldness or mockery.
Five million... That’s a huge sum of money. Enough to buy a house in River City!
The spectators below couldn’t help but shake their heads. Facing so many opponents, Lin Mu would probably die if each of them just landed a single punch.
"Young Master Fang, how about another wager?" Lin Mu asked, completely unconcerned by the fighters now surrounding him. He looked directly at Fang Ziming.
"What do you want to bet?" Fang Ziming replied coldly, looking at Lin Mu as if he were already a corpse.
"If I win, you hand someone over to me," Lin Mu said calmly.
"Who?"
"Fang Yongnian."
"Lin Mu, you’re courting death!" Fang Ziming roared.
"What, you don’t dare?" Lin Mu said flatly. "You can always refuse. But after I kill all of them, and then kill you, I’ll just go find Fang Yongnian myself." He was referring to the man they knew as Steward Fang.
"Attack! Kill him for me!"
At Fang Ziming’s command, the eighteen fighters on the stage lunged at Lin Mu all at once.
「In a private room on the third floor.」
A man and two women were seated on a sofa. The man, around fifty years old, wore a Tang suit. He had a detached demeanor and exuded an air of sharp competence. Most importantly, his temples bulged prominently, and his abdomen undulated in a steady rhythm with each breath. This man was a master of the Martial Way.
The two women beside him were exceptionally beautiful and, quite remarkably, identical twins. Dressed in black training uniforms, their skin was as white as snow, and they possessed an extraordinary air.
All three watched the ring below with calm expressions. After seeing Lin Mu challenge eighteen men, the woman on the left chuckled. "Peng Shi, don’t you think that guy is crazy? He wins two matches and suddenly becomes this blindly arrogant?"
The woman on the right giggled. "Or maybe he really has the skill for it. What do you think, Peng Shi?"
The man they called Peng Shi said nothing. He kept his eyes closed, engaged in slow, meditative breathing. A minor spectacle like this was beneath his notice. To him, they were just a pack of brutes obsessed with brawling, a matter in which he had no interest.
In the very next moment, however, Peng Shi’s eyes snapped open. He glanced down at the ring, only to shake his head in utter disappointment. A waste of time.
「Meanwhile, downstairs, the atmosphere had reached a fever pitch.」
Fang Ziming’s face contorted viciously as he roared, "Kill him!"