February 16th, cloudy.
Jiangdong District, Global Elite Fighting Club.
The spacious and bright training hall has several gigantic spotlights hanging from the ceiling in the center.
Like follow spots on a stage, they make the arena below, slick with sweat, gleam brilliantly.
At this mont, two fighters are fiercely engaged in combat on the arena.
They are clad in professional fighting shorts and gloves, their bodies agile and nimble, muscles taut yet streamlined.
Every punch and kick slices through the air with a whoosh, like a heavy cannon strike. When their bodies collide, a muffled "bang bang" sound echoes.
The elaborate offensive and defensive maneuvers and the fierce intensity of their every strike astonish the surrounding group of trainees, who keep cheering and shouting.
Suddenly, one fighter in red fighting shorts, after taking a swing punch, quickly retreated two steps, raised his arms, and shouted:
"Stop, stop!"
As soon as he finished, he couldn’t wait to bend down, supporting himself on his knees, gasping for air.
The fighter in blue fighting shorts stopped abruptly, imdiately retracting his hand, standing in place watching him.
The fighter with red shorts puffed out his cheeks and, gasping for breath, said:
"Fang, you... you cheated. There’s definitely sothing wrong with this arena. Did you wet the floor on purpose while cleaning this morning, causing my footing to be unstable and almost sprain my ankle? This round doesn’t count!"
His shaless words imdiately caused an uproar among the surrounding onlookers under the arena, erupting in boos.
"Xu Hao, you shaless guy! Raising your hand on the arena ans conceding; as a mixed martial arts fighter, don’t you even know that?"
"Exactly, if the fight continues, the one getting KO’d would definitely be you. Look how cowardly you look! I think you almost didn’t sprain your foot, you almost got scared silly!"
"Oh, Hao, where’s the bravado from the other day? Still finding excuses, why don’t you say the wind’s too strong today and softened your punches?"
However, the fighter nad "Xu Hao" sneered with no sha and replied:
"With his skills, to go toe-to-toe with a champion level fighter like , in the future, participating in KFC and getting a gold belt would be effortless. How could he just be a re sparring partner?"
"I really want to ask you bunch of scaredy-cats, where did you find this professional fighter to deal with ? Co on, tell , how much did you pay?"
The boos from below grew louder, everyone shouting that he was bragging without thought, losing and trying to get away with it.
Soone even mocked, "Talking about winning in KFC, why don’t you go up to the sky and fight fried chicken?"
And the fighter in the blue shorts, standing opposite, was Fang Cheng.
Today’s arena match stemd from an incident known as the "kicking up a storm".
In the morning when classes started, a group of trainees and coaches saw Fang Cheng, who was back on the first day of work after the New Year, swarming around him like seeing a savior, urging him one after another to accept an arena match.
It turned out that a few days before, an outsider troublemaker had co to the Global Elite Fighting Club, intending to train here before participating in professional matches.
He claid to be looking for a place to train, yet it was no different from causing a scene.
As soon as that guy walked in the door, he bragged about being invincible throughout the club with overwhelming arrogance.
Then he caused chaos, no matter if they were professional fighters who had trained here for years or battle-hardened sparring partners, he knocked them all down one by one.
Even more infuriating, after each victory, that troublemaker would mock the club as having a reputation that doesn’t match reality, calling it fancy on the outside but hollow within, making everyone furious yet helpless.
Had it not been for the fact that most coaches were relatively old, bearing the responsibility of guiding trainees in class, they might have also stepped onto the arena to personally prove the club’s reputation and strength.
When Fang Cheng was inford about this, Xu Hao happened to co to the venue for training.
He seed to have already heard about a special character like Fang Cheng among the club’s sparring partners, so he voluntarily stepped forward to challenge.
Fang Cheng had no objections, opening for business on the first day of the New Year, he had no complaints.
Whether it was sparring or arena matches, as long as he was paid enough in lesson fees.
At this mont, listening quietly to everyone’s words, Fang Cheng imdiately pretended to be breathless, constantly waving his hands, saying:
"No way... I can barely hold on too. If we keep fighting, we’ll both end up hurt. Let’s just call it a draw."
He also had sweat dripping down his face, his face red.
It wasn’t because the opponent’s skill was too formidable, requiring him to exert full effort to remain undefeated.
Rather, to avoid a disaster of smashing his opponent with a punch, leaving blood and flesh splattered, he had to focus more on controlling the power of each attack.
The muscles in his whole body remained in a contracted state for a long ti without full release, like shackles binding them, appearing particularly stiff, naturally consuming much physical strength.
To be honest, this sparring session was also a unique skill training, specifically to hone his precision control over strength.
The entire process was like walking a tightrope, or hamring an eggshell with an iron hamr.
He had to be cautious at all tis, maintaining a balanced state, truly a "boxing is easy, being human is hard" situation.
In terms of difficulty level, it wasn’t much easier than fighting with those experintal body monsters.
After all, when facing an experintal body, he could unleash full strength without fear, venting his destructive desires.
However, this arena match did yield unexpectedly pleasant outcos.
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