"Good evening, everyone!"
Adrian Li slept until the sun had completely set before finally making his way to the neon-lit bar at the iPartment complex.
Sure enough, the usual suspects from the apartment were all gathered around their designated leather booth, casually chatting away.
'Honestly, these people must be bored out of their minds,' Adrian mused internally. 'If you come down at literally any given hour, you're practically guaranteed to run into them wasting time. Doesn't the media constantly claim that the domestic job market is currently experiencing the most severe, cutthroat involution in modern history? Why the hell are they all so incredibly leisurely?'
"Landlord! You've finally arrived!"
Upon seeing him approach, Hu Yifei immediately jumped up and delivered a heavy, enthusiastic slap to his shoulder, making his arm genuinely ache.
"Didn't you promise you would take me to officially register for the UFC Asia Qualifiers? I called you twenty-eight times this morning and you didn't pick up once! I was seriously worried!"
For a martial artist like Hu Yifei, who was permanently addicted to extreme, violent challenges, the UFC was a world-class bloodsport tailor-made for her aggressive temperament. The sheer thrill of an unrestricted, professional cage match was like an unbearable, addictive itch in her heart.
But Adrian had been ruthlessly busy all night destroying Fan Shengmei's backside and had slept through the entire day. He hadn't answered a single call, which made the fiercely competitive tomboy suspect he had actually dared to stand her up.
"The regional selection tournament doesn't officially begin until next month. Why are you in such a hurry?" Adrian asked, rubbing his throbbing shoulder with a slightly exasperated expression.
'Hu Yifei really is far too fierce,' he calculated silently. Even with his massively enhanced, superhuman physique, he still felt the bone-deep sting of her casual slap—and she hadn't even been trying to exert any real force.
"We really have to wait until next month?! I can't wait that long!" Upon hearing the date, Yifei's fiery spirit instantly deflated, and she collapsed heavily back onto the leather sofa.
"Although the official bouts begin next month, you need to start heavily sparring and conditioning now," Adrian reminded her smoothly, seeing her slip back into a lazy slump. "After all, this is a ruthless, global fighting syndicate. If you don't condition your body in advance, it will be incredibly humiliating when you get brutally eliminated in the first round."
"What an absolute joke! Landlord, who exactly do you think I am?" Yifei erupted, immediately leaping off the sofa to shout defiantly in his face. "I am Hu Yifei! Do you actually think I could ever lose?!"
"Exactly! Yifei's underground nickname is the Invincible Superwoman! With her terrifying, monstrous strength, let alone the UFC, even if she participated in a galactic deathmatch, she could easily beat aliens to a bloody pulp!" Lu Ziqiao quickly chimed in from the corner, offering his support.
"Get the hell out of here with that nonsense!" Yifei spat at Ziqiao, though she sat back down next to him with a self-satisfied, fake smile.
"But seriously, Landlord, I actually do want to run through some heavy conditioning. The apartment is far too cramped; if I throw a full-power kick, I'll put a hole through the drywall. And there aren't any decent, professional martial arts gyms in this district. Do you happen to have a suitable facility you could recommend?"
Although Yifei possessed absolute, arrogant confidence in her lethality, the UFC was the apex of global combat sports; she couldn't definitively guarantee she would walk away with the championship belt.
'At the very least,' she admitted internally, 'I only managed to force a slight draw during my spar with the landlord the other day. If I enter the steel cage against genuine, hardened professional killers, I might not escape unscathed.'
For a violent tomboy like Yifei, sustaining broken bones or bleeding out was no big deal—but the sheer humiliation of losing a match would be a fate worse than death. However, unrestricted, high-intensity combat conditioning required a dedicated, reinforced space and professional-grade equipment. It wasn't something she could simply accomplish by jogging on a cheap treadmill at the local fitness center.
"I happen to own a private, fully equipped combat facility specifically designed for heavy sparring. It is strictly for my own personal use. Here is the address."
This was the exact, calculated opening Adrian had been patiently waiting for. He calmly retrieved a sleek black access card from his tailored jacket and handed it directly to her.
"Oh, Landlord... it's your own exclusive, private training ground. I would feel so incredibly embarrassed intruding on your space!" Yifei cooed, forcing a sickeningly sweet, artificial tone even as she eagerly snatched the access card from his fingers.
"Yifei, I am begging you, please stop acting cute. I am genuinely going to vomit my alcohol back up," Ziqiao groaned, dramatically pantomiming a gag reflex.
"You bastard! Believe me or not, I will slap you to death right now!" Yifei shoved the black card safely into her tight denim shorts, instantly dropping the sweet facade as she raised a threatening fist at the playboy.
"Boss, you have given our Yifei such premium, exclusive access," Ziqiao seamlessly pivoted, ignoring her violent threats entirely as he leaned shamelessly toward Adrian. "Can't you toss a little charity my way as well?"
"What exactly is your angle now, Ziqiao? Didn't I just grant you unlimited VIP bar credit to default on?" Adrian asked, raising an aristocratic eyebrow.
'Honestly, watching Lu Xiaobu run his sleazy cons on television used to be hilarious,' Adrian analyzed cynically. 'But actually interacting with this parasitic grifter in reality is a completely different, incredibly cursed experience. When Ziqiao locks onto a target to run a scam, he never hesitates, and he absolutely never considers the catastrophic consequences of his actions.'
"Well, you see, Boss... I recently met a tragically beautiful girl who is rapidly going blind. She wept and told me her absolute final wish was to see the majestic sunrise from the peak of Mount Tai before she loses her vision completely. But alas, I am currently destitute and lack the humanitarian funds to fulfill her dying wish!"
'Speak like a fucking human being, you sociopath,' Adrian sneered internally.
Catching Adrian's icy glare, Ziqiao immediately dropped the theatrical bullshit. "Okay, fine, Boss. I recently hooked up with a hot girl named Peipei. She is insisting that I buy her a lavish birthday present to prove my devotion, but I am entirely broke. Could you spot me some liquid cash to close the deal?"
"I am perfectly willing to lend you the capital," Adrian replied smoothly, his dark eyes fixed on the playboy with a heavy, calculating scrutiny. "But do you actually possess the means to ever pay me back?"
'Even now, I still haven't figured out exactly how this parasitic rat generates any actual income,' Adrian wondered.
"Do not worry for a second, Boss! I, Lu Xiaobu, possess an ironclad, sterling reputation in the treacherous underworld! If you ever require my unique, silver-tongued services for anything, I will gladly lend you a hand!"
'Peipei?' Adrian's mind instantly cross-referenced the chaotic timeline of the iPartment lore. 'If Ziqiao is currently running a scam on the flight attendant Peipei, then according to the canonical plot, the genius Lu Zhanbo and the banking heiress Lin Wanyu should be arriving back in the city right about now.'
"She is a premium, first-class flight attendant, Boss. If you fund this operation, I will have her introduce you to some of her tight, leggy colleagues later," Ziqiao offered with a sleazy, conspiratorial wink, completely misunderstanding Adrian's thoughtful silence.
"Hey! Lu Ziqiao, back the hell off! Stop trying to drag the Landlord down into your filthy, degenerate gutter!" Yifei snapped, deeply dissatisfied by the playboy's attempt to corrupt their sophisticated new friend.
After interacting with Adrian over the past few days, Yifei had genuinely come to respect the aristocratic landlord. She believed he was an honorable, high-society gentleman, and having him as a sparring partner and friend was an excellent dynamic.
Of course, in her mind, they were strictly platonic friends. Because deep down in her violently repressed subconscious, she still harbored a pathetic, lingering crush on the spineless, cheeky radio host, Zeng Xiaoxian.
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