“Sure, your body might be a bit on the weak side, but I’m a guy who’s watched over three hundred martial arts films. It’s not about brute strength—it’s about technique.”
Gu Wan’er couldn’t really argue with that. After all, how could her physical fitness possibly compare to Yu Xiaoduo’s? “Let’s just watch and see how it goes first.”
“Fine by me.”
Just as the two were chatting, Gao Jian had already stepped into the steel cage. Another white beam of light shot out, this time revealing a man with slightly darker skin. You could tell at a glance that he was probably from Southeast Asia—especially since he was wearing traditional Thai headbands and armbands.
“He looks pretty tough,” Gu Wan’er murmured.
“He is pretty tough. Muay Thai has ten ranks, and you can tell a fighter’s level from the headbands and armbands they wear. This guy’s wearing red—that means he’s a top-tier tenth-rank fighter. No wonder he’s been on a winning streak.”
Gu Wan’er looked at Yu Xiaoduo curiously. “How do you know all that?”
“Don’t you watch TV? And you call yourself a heiress of a conglomerate.” Yu Xiaoduo immediately seized the chance to tease her, leaving Gu Wan’er with no comeback. One day, she’d definitely fire back. But for now, she’d let it slide—no point making him upset and messing with his performance later.
“Fine, fine, I’m worthless, okay?”
Yu Xiaoduo paused, then grinned. “Boss Gu, don’t say that. That’s kind of an insult to garbage.”
Gu Wan’er’s composure completely crumbled. She gave an inch, and he took a mile. If this guy ever got a girlfriend, she’d write her own name backwards.
“Just kidding, just kidding. Don’t take it seriously.” Seeing Gu Wan’er’s expression shift, Yu Xiaoduo quickly hugged his own arm and tried to smooth things over.
Beside them, Lu Zhengzhi was green with envy. The brilliant and accomplished Miss Gu, reduced to a meek little woman in front of my brother Yu. And just look at that casual, unfazed attitude of his! And look at the way she’s acting! God, why did I have to witness this?
Fu Quan adjusted his glasses and chuckled. “Don’t be jealous. Some things money just can’t buy.”
“Man, if I had a girlfriend like that, I’d give up my current status in a heartbeat.”
Fu Quan’s eyes narrowed into slits, his expression clearly saying, Yeah, right, I don’t believe that for a second.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the next fighter is also very familiar to all of you—known as ‘Rocket Leg,’ Marcher. He’s currently on a fifteen-fight winning streak. If he wins tonight, he’ll break the record with sixteen consecutive victories!”
Marcher stepped out and raised both arms high. There was no cheering, but plenty of people were betting on him to win.
Even though they looked down on him, they still had to put their money on him. Tenth rank was nothing to mess with—who would say no to easy cash?
Both fighters were now inside the steel cage. The iron door was bound with heavy chains. There wasn’t even a referee inside. Faint traces of blood were still visible on the floor.
“The final bout of tonight—begin!”
At the sound of an announcer’s voice from somewhere unseen, the two men inside the cage began to stir.
Gao Jian stayed steady and cautious, throwing out a few probing punches. Marcher remained calm, but his right leg was twitching with barely contained energy.
The big shots in the audience dropped their usual composure, shouting things like, “Kill him! Beat him to death!”
“You’ve watched so many martial arts films—who do you think will win?” Gu Wan’er asked curiously.
Yu Xiaoduo shrugged. “You think I’m some kind of god? In a fight between masters, everything can change in an instant. One move can end it all.”
“And you? If you went up there, could you win?”
“I’m not going to brag, but—three moves. Three moves and I’ll have him calling me ‘Daddy.'”
Gu Wan’er squinted and fired back mercilessly, “Yu Xiaoduo, you look so funny when you’re showing off~”
“Hehe, well, you did call me Daddy that one day, remember?”
Gu Wan’er: “…”
Gu Wan’er felt like if this kept up, she’d end up with internal injuries from all the frustration.
Suddenly, the whole crowd gasped. The two who had been bickering turned their attention to the cage. There was Marcher, his cheek slightly twisted, as if he’d just taken a punch.
But he didn’t go down. In fact, he rolled his neck, hopped in place a couple of times, and gave Gao Jian a thumbs-up—pointed straight down at the floor.
The audience wasn’t having it.
“What the hell? This is ‘One-Punch Man’? I bet a million on you, and this is what I get?! Damn it!”
“What are you even doing? You’re tickling him? How embarrassing!”
A wave of jeers erupted instantly. Gao Jian inside the cage could hear every word, and it definitely shook his confidence. He’d hit him with his full power—and the guy didn’t even flinch! How was that possible!
Surrounded by the insults, Gao Jian desperately needed to prove himself.
With that thought in mind, his approach became far more aggressive. No—in Yu Xiaoduo’s eyes, it was more like reckless.
Then, Gao Jian spotted a perfect opening and threw a brutal right hook, aiming to crush his opponent in one blow. Marcher’s eyes went cold. He tilted his entire body, planted his left foot, and sent a kick like a cannonball straight into Gao Jian’s jaw.
Crack. The sound was crisp and sharp.
Gao Jian froze for a split second, then collapsed like a falling log. His body began to twitch, blood trickling from his nose.
Marcher raised both arms in victory. Only a small portion of the crowd cheered—everyone else was busy cursing the loser as worthless.
Medical staff rushed into the cage, and Gao Jian was quickly carried out on a stretcher. Pieces of fruit peel were thrown at him as he passed.
The sight made Gu Wan’er uncomfortable. “They fought for them, and when they lose, they get humiliated like this.”
“The people who come here are all chasing thrills. They care about face and money. Who cares if you’re hurt or not? Haven’t you heard ‘the victor takes all’? If you lost, who’d pity you?”
Gu Wan’er knew the logic, but it still bothered her. “It’s too cruel.”
“There are even crueler things,” Yu Xiaoduo said with a sly grin.
Gu Wan’er pouted. “Yeah, yeah. I suppose you’ve watched three hundred horror films too, right?”
“Oh wow, look at my Boss Gu—now you’re connecting the dots all on your own.”
“Hmph.”
At that moment, Marcher inside the cage was strutting around arrogantly, shouting in broken Mandarin, “Nong ha xi ji mo de ya ge neng ta di ma?” (Roughly: “Is there anyone here who can actually fight?”)
Yu Xiaoduo snorted. “Boss Gu, here’s our chance to make some money.”
“Be careful. If you can’t win, just surrender.”
Yu Xiaoduo gave a wry smile. “Boss Gu, can’t you wish me well for once?”
“I’m worried about you. Forget it if you don’t want it.”
In just those few seconds of banter, a massive figure stepped into the steel cage—it was Ye Xiang. Under his imposing build, Marcher suddenly looked almost “petite.”
Seeing this, Scarface immediately reported the situation to Bai Ji. Bai Ji had been watching the whole time and had no intention of stopping Ye Xiang. After all, who would turn down someone volunteering to challenge?
The staff quickly chained the door shut. The entire venue fell eerily quiet. Standing inside the cage was the fourth son of the Ye family. Though he rarely appeared in public, everyone remembered that face.
“See? Now you’ve delayed our money-making opportunity,” Yu Xiaoduo said helplessly. Someone had beaten him to the punch.
“You’re blaming me for this?”
“It’s your fault anyway.” Hehe, I’m a woman—I’ll beat you using a woman’s methods.
