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The audience mbers were originally about to leave, feeling unsatisfied, but upon hearing there was a new challenger, they all sat back down, discussing with laughter how this challenger would et his demise.
The host held the microphone energetically and said, "Now, let's welco the new challenger! Can he defeat our warrior and take the prize money? Let's wait and see!"
The gate leading to the octagonal iron cage opened, and Su Mo strode out.
His figure wasn't burly, it was even sowhat slim. Not to ntion compared to the host, even the referee's chest muscles were larger than his.
To be careful, Su Mo concealed his true appearance, wearing a headpiece similar to the "Bull Warrior" in "Jackie Chan Adventures", bought from the street.
And coincidentally, all the other headpieces were sold out at the ti, leaving only this one, with a bull embroidered on the forehead.
Seeing this, the audience began booing with thumbs pointed downward:
"This is hilarious, what a bull-headed man."
"Bull-headed man be gone, I am a pure-hearted warrior!"
"Skinny dog, sick of living and co here to find death?"
"Hurry up and die, don't waste everyone's ti!"
"If you can last more than half a minute, I'll call you daddy!"
In the Black Boxing Arena, the most annoying thing is a one-sided fight.
One-sided slaughter is no different from chicken killing in the eyes of the audience.
The host, having seen countless fights, felt the match was a foregone conclusion just by looking at Su Mo's figure.
But he maintained professionalism, not forgetting to make a joke to liven up the atmosphere before leaving, "I have to leave quickly to avoid this bull's blood splashing on ."
The host exited.
Su Mo entered the cage.
The cage door closed.
Referee: "Start!"
Su Mo's figure vanished instantly, transforming into a shadow that arrived before the host.
"Boom!!!" Su Mo's fist exploded the air, air currents rampaged and surged, his fist blasted towards the opponent's face like a heavy cannon.
The host flew backward, "Bang" hitting the iron cage, the iron sh created a human-shaped dent, the weight-bearing columns deford greatly, and the entire boxing ring trembled.
Su Mo didn't even look back, he kicked open the cage door and took the 5000 moon coin reward tied to the column.
The entire process took 5.3 seconds.
The whole scene fell into deathly silence.
The audience held their breath.
The only sound was the host hanging on the iron cage, the constant dripping of blood.
His neck had been broken by Su Mo's punch, his head twisted 180 degrees to his back, dead beyond dead.
The audience and host stared dumbfounded at the blood-soaked boxing ring, unable to recover from the shock.
Su Mo left the boxing ring with the money in big strides.
A mont later, he returned and pointed to the audience seating, asking, "Who just said they'd recognize as dad?"
Silence.
Then a timid voice ca from the audience, "Daddy..."
"Ah~ son, good boy!" Su Mo left satisfied.
...
For the next two days, Su Mo wore the bull headpiece to 7 black boxing arenas.
Each ti the process was very simple.
Enter the arena.
One punch knockout.
Take the money and leave.
The audience hadn't even found their seats before the match was over.
Over two days, he earned more than 30,000 moon coins in prize money.
For the next three days, Su Mo started fighting in more advanced boxing matches.
Prize money matches were just entry-level, with fixed rewards typically only a few thousand moon coins, serious black fighters wouldn't bother.
Moreover, if a challenger is defeated in a prize money match, they die, much like the Beast Fighting Arena, excessively barbaric, only naless mud fighters compete there.
Advanced boxing matches are different, with relatively civilized rules, not every match ends in death, and they involve odds, allowing audiences to bet on both fighters.
These matches add wealth stimulation on top of physical combat, like chemical products full of allure, attracting countless people to flock to them.
Of course, this involves many parties playing gas, ranging from scattered money, big accounts, to the bookmaker.
Black boxers often represent certain interests, making the final result unpredictable.
Although opponents in advanced boxing matches have beco stronger, for Su Mo, whose double blood codes have reached the "Middle Tier of Awakening", the difference is rely between "one punch" and "several punches".
He bet on himself to win each match, rapidly increasing his capital, quickly winning over a hundred thousand.
Within a few short days, Su Mo's incredibly exaggerated performance along with his amusing bull headpiece, spread the fa of "Bull Warrior" throughout half of the frontier black boxing scene.
On the sixth day, Su Mo arrived at the district controlled by the Red Blade Association.
Just as he entered the black boxing arena, before choosing a match, soone approached him and greeted quietly, "Brother Niu, can we talk sowhere?"
Su Mo followed the person to a deserted corner.
It was a punk with a Mohawk, and he showed an ingratiating smile, nodding and bowing to Su Mo, "Brother Niu, nice to et you."
Su Mo feigned confusion, "Who are you?"
The punk said proudly, "I'm from the Red Blade Association, heard of Scarface? He's my boss, I hang out with him, this area is under our control."
Su Mo pretended to be surprised, proactively extending his hand, "Nice to et you, I've heard a lot about the Red Blade Association."
The punk was flattered, hurriedly shook Su Mo's hand, then leaned in close and whispered, "Our boss has watched your match tapes, Brother Niu, and is very interested in you. Want to make so big money together?"
Su Mo feigned curiosity, "What do you an? What options do you have?"
The punk wrapped his arm around Su Mo's shoulder and whispered in his ear, "This boxing arena is run by the Red Blade Association. We have an ace fighter, you must've heard of him, he's called Simpson, nickna Beast."
"Your performance these days has been amazing, everyone thinks you have the capacity to challenge Simpson, and wants to watch your fight."
"Our boss's idea is this — arrange a match tomorrow where you face Simpson, many spectators will be fascinated, wagering their money on you."
"You just ease up a bit, fight Simpson until the 12th round, let him knock you out with one punch. Don't worry, we'll remind him to hold back, you won't be truly hurt."
Su Mo frowned, "You an you want to throw the fight?"
The punk patted Su Mo's back for reassurance, saying sincerely, "Brother Niu, once you've been in this business long enough you'll know, out of ten matches, nine are fixed."
"We all co out here to make money, not to play with our lives. If you like playing with lives, you might as well be a rcenary."
"So-called victory or defeat, is manipulated by the bookmakers behind the scenes. With your youth and talent, being a lone fighter is truly a waste, and dangerous."
"After all, no bookmaker wants to see instability in their arena, you wouldn't want to soday be shot in the back seven tis and ruled a suicide, right?"
Besides persuasion, there was a hint of threat in the speech.
Su Mo wore a resistant yet hesitant expression.
After finishing the tough talk, the punk switched to a softer tone, "Furthermore, losing to Simpson is nothing to be ashad of, not to ntion losing honorably in 12 rounds, your reputation won't be damaged, everyone will still respect you."
"Brother Niu, think carefully, to mix well in the boxing arenas, having a major bookmaker backing you is essential. The opportunity is right in front of you, what are you hesitating for?"
Su Mo hesitated for a long ti, then gritted his teeth and said, "Afterward, a 73% split, I want the majority."
The punk didn't bargain, evidently Su Mo's number was within expectations, "No problem! First-ti collaborators naturally let the fighter take the majority to show our sincerity. But future splits won't be like this."
Su Mo nodded, "Alright, then I'll hang out with Scarface!"
The punk, having accomplished a major task, anticipating rewards from the boss, bead with a smile, "Pleasant cooperation, from now on we're all family in the Red Blade Association! Co, let's discuss the specifics."
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