Chapter 009

Time passed unknowingly, and Abins suddenly pushed the door open: "Liefeng, it's time, you need to make your entrance!" I was momentarily stunned, mechanically standing up as my assistant draped a robe over me. Abins walked over and we stepped outside together. The shouts outside were deafening, and the aisles were filled with gamblers who had placed their bets on me, each one craning their necks to yell at me, urging me to quickly finish off my opponent. Some shouted that if I lost, they would hire a hitman to kill me. I walked expressionlessly down the aisle; in the eyes of these people, I was not a human being, but merely a "die" in their hands. To me, these people were nothing more than a pile of parasitic maggots.

In this ring, there are no referees, only the sound of the bell. Once the bell rings, the match officially begins, and it only ends when one side falls. Jin Nanjing and I stand facing each other; he looks at me, and I look at him, both of us wearing the same expressionless gaze. After the host arranged for us to stand properly, he left the ring. Just as he walked away, the bell rang with a resounding "Ding!" The match begins!

Returning from Huajin Street, I felt surprisingly calm. As I reached the door, I saw Abins and Canela. I curiously asked, "What are you doing here?" Abins replied, "We are just about to head out..." He winked at me and said, "Canela is taking me to a nice place. Do you want to join us? It's on me!" Upon seeing his suggestive look, I immediately knew he was heading to a place of ill repute. I shook my head, saying, "No, I have a match tomorrow, so I won't go!" Abins nodded repeatedly, saying, "Right, right, you should rest well... By the way, how's your condition?" I looked around. In front of Canela's training hall, there was a steel pipe as thick as an arm, which seemed to serve no purpose other than decoration. I walked over and kicked it. With a loud clang, the upper half of the pipe flew off. Canela gaped for a moment before stammering, "Oh my God, Hunter, did you do this? You are the strongest fighter I've seen besides Marcus; even Hogan can't compare to you!" Abins laughed proudly, saying, "Of course, the fighters I, Abins, choose are never wrong!" Canela immediately grabbed Abins and said, "Hurry, hurry! Abins, let's not go to the 'Returning Goose Teahouse' first..." Abins complained, "Then where are we going?" Canela replied, "First, accompany me to get some money; I want to bet everything on Hunter!" Abins was pulled away by Canela. I smiled slightly; this was for the best, as Canela had forgotten to hold me accountable for breaking the steel pipe in front of his door.

My opponent in the ring was already warming up, and Abins tapped me on the shoulder, prompting me to jump in. The host, seeing that the fighters had all entered the arena, began to loudly announce the fighters' basic information: "Jin Nanjing, nickname 'Fire Tiger', height 1.81 meters, weight 85 kilograms, squat 360 kilograms, bench press 180 kilograms, kicks six times per second, with 130 matches and 30 victories by knockout!" The bettors in the audience who had placed their bets on him erupted in cheers, shouting their support for him. Those who bet on him likely had confidence in his competition experience. Jin Nanjing raised his hands and walked around the ring, throwing punches and kicking several times. "Lie Feng, nickname 'Iron Crocodile', height 1.83 meters, weight 89 kilograms, squat 610 kilograms, bench press 300 kilograms, kicks seven times per second, hailing from the Mallorca Training Camp, he directly knocked out Vaughan the Python to qualify for high-level boxing matches; this is his first fight." The bettors who had placed their bets on me cheered, as they were impressed by the statistics on my profile. Immediately, some bettors who had wagered on Jin Nanjing began to whistle, and soon after, insults were exchanged, clearly indicating a clash between two factions of bettors. I noticed Canela at the side of the ring shaking his head; the several burly men standing behind him walked over to the arguing bettors, and the chaos quickly subsided.

My boxing match will take place at 8:00 PM. This afternoon, Canelo instructed the staff to set up the boxing ring in the center of the training hall using synthetic plastic, and to arrange five rows of chairs one meter away from the ring. I counted a total of 180 seats, all prepared for the wealthy individuals who are genuinely coming to watch the match. The chairs are luxurious seats from Dynasty Furniture Company, the largest furniture company in the universe. The ticket price for such a seat is around 200,000, which is extremely expensive, but for these affluent individuals who own vast interstellar companies, it is merely a trifle. Calculating this, the ticket sales alone could generate over 36 million, yet I, the one fighting in the ring, can only receive 50,000. I silently cursed, how unfair! Behind these seats are the positions for the gamblers; they do not have seats and the ticket price is lower, only 50,000. However, these individuals are also quite wealthy; they do not need to sit to watch the match because they are only concerned with the outcome, not the process.

The next day, in preparation for the evening's competition, I did not engage in high-intensity training to conserve my energy. I merely warmed up a bit to maintain my condition. I felt somewhat excited, as this was my first match, and I was full of confidence. That Jin Nanjing was indeed no match for me; I believed I could end the fight with just one kick—just as easily as dealing with the Mallorca Wolves. I jumped a few times quickly and kicked the nearby force gauge and the synthetic plastic mat with a sound of "beep beep beep..." A series of sounds followed, and I felt a surge of excitement. The red numbers on the force gauge skyrocketed, swiftly surpassing my previous limit and stopping at 1,611 kilograms. I smiled with satisfaction, draped a towel over my shoulders, and walked out.

My opponent, Jin Nanjing, arrived the day before yesterday. He has come to adapt to the venue a few times over the past few days. I have deliberately avoided meeting him, as this will allow me to be more ruthless in the ring. According to Canelo, who spoke to me this morning, that guy is simply trash compared to me. Although he has quick leg speed, he lacks power; when he kicks the striking pad, it doesn't even shake. He is even more convinced than I am that as long as he can land a kick on me, I will be finished. I smiled and thanked him for his trust before walking away. I do not like him; although he treats me well, that is only as long as I can bring him income. If another fighter can defeat me and bring him a lot of money, he would treat that person well too—my manager is the same. I am very clear about this.

I returned to my room, lying on the bed with my arms resting under my head, gazing at the ceiling. The ceiling in the Canela household is made of the latest hollow-carved materials. While it cannot be described as breathtakingly beautiful, it is certainly not something an average family can afford. Suddenly, I felt a bit disoriented. Once upon a time, I too looked up at a ceiling made of rough stones. Just a month has passed, yet it feels like a long-ago experience. Is it true that people are so forgetful? I reflected on my life in the training camp, recalling the purpose for which I entered it. I seemed to have already envisioned the pirate ship described by Captain Seven Fingers. Tomorrow marks the first step towards realizing my dream. I want to take this step beautifully, so that everyone will know me: I am "Iron Crocodile" Hunting Wind, one of the best boxers, second only to Marcus!