"Good news! Last time that Guangxi guy scammed you out of money—don't you want to get it back?"
"You have a way?"
"Of course I do! If you really want your money back, come with me tonight."
…
Tie Xiong drove Cao Yang to the entrance of Nightingale Club. Jim told him to come upstairs, but he didn't dare.
He and Jim had always been rivals, never on good terms. Just last time, he brought his men to surround Jim's club, and today their underlings had another clash. He only brought five or six guys with him—going upstairs was basically asking to get killed.
But when dealing with a common enemy, even rivals could cooperate. And the Guangxi fellow from the Guangxi Gang was exactly such a shared enemy.
Since Tie Xiong wouldn't go up, Jim had to come down.
Tie Xiong greeted Cao Yang briefly, then walked over to the parking lot to talk with Jim. They stood too far for Cao Yang to hear the conversation, but it was definitely about him—Tie Xiong kept pointing toward him, and Jim kept glancing back at him.
"You know the kid's strength. If he fights that Guangxi guy, he'll probably win."
Jim shook his head. "That Guangxi guy is tough. They say his ancestors were masters of Southern Shaolin Buddhist Fist, a true lineage. He can take on ten men alone. This kid only beat four last time."
"I think he held back. When my brothers rushed him with blades, the look he gave me—made me feel fear. I've been in the streets for years. Not many people can make me feel fear. He's definitely hiding his strength."
Jim fell silent, thinking.
"And what if he loses? I'm not giving that Guangxi guy another cent."
"What the hell are you afraid of? If he loses, I'll skin him alive! But if he wins, we get our money back. And later, we can make him fight long-term—our money-making machine."
Jim scoffed. "Didn't you just say he's strong? You still dare skin him?"
"Pff! Stronger than a gun? If he dares lose, I'll put a bullet in him."
"…Fine. I'll trust you this time."
Jim took a few men, got into two cars, and drove off. Tie Xiong got back into his car and told his underlings to follow.
"You told him?" Cao Yang asked. What he cared about most was the slot machines in his convenience store.
Tie Xiong grinned. "Relax. As long as you win tonight, he'll never bother you again."
After half an hour, the four cars reached an abandoned factory in the suburbs.
The factory was large but had long since shut down. Strangely, luxury cars filled the place, and many guards stood at the entrance.
The guards checked Jim and Tie Xiong's identity before letting them in—they clearly came often.
Both groups got out and headed straight to the second floor.
The entire second and third floors were opened up—easily over five thousand square meters.
As soon as the door opened, noise exploded inside. The perimeter was packed with stands full of men and women smoking, drinking, eating.
In the center was a fenced octagon. Two shirtless men wearing only shorts were fighting fiercely inside.
"You brought me here… to fight underground?" Cao Yang had only seen this on TV.
"What, scared?" Tie Xiong smirked.
Cao Yang shook his head—not scared, just reluctant. His mother had warned him before he left home:Use your brain or your strength to earn money—but don't use violence.
Cao Yang knew he wasn't smart. But his mom had said brains get sharper the more you use them. So he was trying to earn money with his brain, avoiding violence whenever possible.
"Hahaha! Brother Jim! Brother Tie Xiong!"
A short, dark-skinned man speaking accented Guangxi Mandarin walked over, laughing loudly. He sat down next to them, overly friendly.
"You two haven't been here in a long time. My income's dropped like crazy!"
His tone was friendly, but his words were pure mockery. Jim and Tie Xiong both darkened.
"Fuck off, Sida! Tonight I'm here to bleed you dry!"
The Guangxi man, Sida, burst out laughing. "Tie Xiong, you say that every time. And every time, you're the one bleeding!"
Tie Xiong's face twisted with anger. Jim remained silent, smoking.
A long-legged waitress in a mini-skirt came over, placing fruit and beer on the table.
"Sir, that will be 1,980 yuan," she said politely, handing them a bill.
Places like this always made customers pay as soon as anything hit the table.
Cao Yang was stunned. Two thousand yuan for a fruit plate and two dozen beers? In a time when average monthly wages were only a few hundred? Outrageous.
"Are you new?!" Sida slapped the waitress's butt. "These two are VIPs. Nothing they order costs money. Put it on my tab."
The waitress, cheeks flushed, ran off.
"New girl, doesn't know the rules. Don't mind her."
Tie Xiong ignored him. Jim ignored him. Cao Yang ignored him.
All three stared at the octagon, where the fight was ending. A tall man was knocked out on the ground by a fighter barely 1.6 meters tall.
"Liang Feng! Liang Feng!"Cheers mixed with curses filled the place.
Tie Xiong pointed at the short fighter. "That's Liang Feng, Guangxi Gang's top fighter. Small but deadly. Think you can beat him?"
"I don't know," Cao Yang replied honestly.
"I already signed you up. He's your opponent. You CANNOT lose."
"Oh." Cao Yang nodded flatly.
Tie Xiong was furious at his attitude but needed him, so he held back.
Jim looked at Cao Yang. "Kid, are you confident or not? If not, say so now."
"And if I say no? Will we leave? Will you stop bothering my slot machines?"
Tie Xiong sneered. "If you say no, Jim will raid your house tonight!"
Cao Yang's eyes chilled. He stared at Jim.
Jim waved a hand. "Ignore him. If you lose, you lose. Don't stress."
Hearing this, Cao Yang looked away. But he knew the truth—these two only wanted to use him to make money. If he cost them money, they wouldn't let him go.
He looked at Liang Feng in the ring and sighed. He'd help them tonight. But never again.
A staff member approached, nodded to Jim and Tie Xiong, then gestured for Cao Yang to follow.
He changed into a pair of shorts—nothing else. Not even basic gloves.
"This place has no rules," the staff explained. "Any dirty trick is allowed. The match ends when someone admits defeat, loses the ability to fight, or dies."
Cao Yang nodded. Without rules, it suited him even better.
"Good luck, kid. When the lights flash, the fight begins."