"Heh, salmon."
"I'm going to smash all your teeth in, so you can eat through a tube for the rest of your life."
Mayweather roared and closed the distance with Power in a flash. Power hastily raised both hands to protect her head, swaying back and forth.
Thwack, thwack, thwack!!
Every one of his rapid-fire punches was blocked by Power's forearms. Seeing this, the surrounding audience couldn't help but marvel at Power's hidden strength.
"This girl is actually pretty good!"
"I thought she'd be KO'd in a second by Mayweather, but she's actually dodging and blocking him."
"She's tougher than us men!"
"Is it too late to bet on the girl now?"
Hearing the discussion below, Mayweather just gave a faint smile. He stopped testing her and abruptly changed his offensive style. After feinting a punch to distract Power, he raised his massive foot and kicked her squarely in the chest, sending her flying. Power's body slammed heavily against the cage wall.
In the process, she dropped a piece of "equipment." A pad fell right into the center of the ring.
"What is that thing?"
A sharp-eyed spectator squinted at the item. Others followed his gaze.
"Looks like a bowl."
"What kind of pink bowl is that?"
"She got hit so hard, maybe her lung got kicked out?"
"I know what that is... because I've used one too."
"Wait, a grown man like you has used one?"
"Yes, I have, but I'm not telling you what it is."
"It's obviously a breast pad. You can tell at a glance," another man stated bluntly.
"A breast pad!" The crowd realized the truth.
"Even breasts are fake these days? Seriously, I give up."
Inside the octagonal cage, Power noticed that her chest had suddenly become lopsided—one side big, one side small. She finally realized she had "dropped her gear." Just as she lunged to pick it up, Mayweather stomped his foot down on the pad.
"Get your foot off it!!"
Power charged at him, but Mayweather saw the opening and landed a heavy punch on her chin. She went airborne again, and Mayweather casually kicked the chest pad out of the cage.
The moment the pad flew out of the cage, thousands of eyes tracked it through the air. As it landed, it immediately sparked a chaotic scramble among the spectators. Some even started fighting over it.
"Master, what was that thing that got thrown out?" Denji asked.
"Power-brand chest pads."
"Chest pads?"
"It's an artifact that lets a woman go from an A-cup to a D-cup."
"You mean Power's chest is fake?!!"
"Exactly. Since Power refuses to eat papaya or vegetables, she has to rely on padding."
"I think Miss Makima's are better."
"True. Makima is the real deal, and she's an E-cup." Arata nodded meaningfully.
Down below, the crowd kept gossiping about Power's "gear," but very few cared that she was being beaten to a pulp. That was the outcome they had all expected from the start.
"Are you alright?" the referee inside the cage asked.
"The Great Me is fine!"
"Get out of here. The two of us are enough for the rest of this match," Mayweather said, grabbing the referee by the hair and tossing him aside. The referee didn't dare refuse and scurried out of the cage.
Now, only Power and Mayweather remained. The lack of a referee meant the fight had escalated. Power was about to face even more brutal abuse.
"Still want to eat salmon now?" Mayweather looked down at Power, who was sitting on the floor, and taunted her.
"Of course. If I don't eat salmon, what else do you expect the Great Me to eat?"
"Eat my fist instead!!"
"ORA!! ORA!!"
Mayweather's punch speed suddenly increased. Countless iron fists hammered into Power like a machine gun. Power was beaten into a state where she had absolutely no room to counterattack.
Looking at Mayweather mercilessly pounding a girl, the crowd below began to feel revulsion. He might have the skill of a "Boxing King," but his conduct was that of a perverted scumbag. Everyone Mayweather fought ended up either beaten to death or reduced to a vegetable. He loved to torment his opponents in the cage, never stopping until he was satisfied—there were even rumors of him beating people until their heads exploded.
Because of Mayweather's brutality, no one wanted to fight him. People only came for the one-night championship title; as for the $1 million prize for challenging him, only suicidal daredevils with inflated egos bothered.
"Poor girl, I told her not to challenge the Boxing King," the kind-hearted man from earlier cried out, watching Power's miserable state.
"Mayweather is such a bastard!!"
"Keep your voice down, do you want to die?"
"But he's right, Mayweather is a bastard."
The bouncers in the arena heard them, but instead of stopping them, they joined in the cursing. Clearly, Mayweather was a hated man by everyone.
"STOP IT!!!"
A wealthy man on the second floor couldn't sit still anymore. He liked the blood and violence of underground boxing, but this was no longer a match; this was a psychopathic sadist beating a girl to death.
Mayweather stopped his fists at the rich man's shout. His hands were drenched in Power's blood. He smiled and looked up at the second floor. "What's the matter? You want to come down and try your luck?"
The rich man froze, visibly terrified, but he still tried to stop the abuse.
"Spare her, and I'll give you $10 million."
"Hahaha, $10 million." Mayweather burst into laughter.
"What? Do you think that's not enough?"
"Ten million isn't enough to buy her life," Mayweather roared.
"Then what do you want?"
"One hundred million dollars."
Hearing Mayweather demand $100 million for Power's life, the men surrounding the cage tightened their fists. They no longer had the expressions of casual onlookers; their eyes were filled with rage.
"What!!"
"$100 million!!"
"Is he even human??"
"I can't take it, I really want to kill him."
"Just keep dreaming. Even if we all jumped him together, we might not be able to take Mayweather down."
"Why is Mayweather so strong? That power doesn't look human."
"I don't know, but I know he never fights in legitimate matches—only underground. He's the champion of the entire island nation's underground circuit."
"That strong? I thought he was just the champion of this one club."
"I should have stopped that girl earlier..."
The rich man on the second floor fell silent. Only the men on the ground floor were whispering among themselves.
Suddenly, a woman on the third floor stood up. "I'll put up $20 million. Everyone else, let's pool the rest."
The woman's words had an effect. Someone on the second floor spoke up: "I didn't bring cash today, but I'll pledge $5 million."
"I'll put up $15 million," someone from the third floor added.
"I'll contribute $10 million too."
Listening to the wealthy patrons increasing their bids, the men on the ground floor decided for the first time that these rich folks weren't so bad after all.
"We have $100 million now. Can you let her go?" the rich man called out.
But then, Mayweather suddenly burst into laughter. His laughter made everyone feel both confused and terrified.
"I was just kidding. You guys actually took it seriously?"
"What do you mean?"
"I finally found a woman I can torture to death—I'm not giving that up for money!!" Mayweather's face turned hideous.
"You..."
His words sparked universal outrage.
"Th-the Great Me... isn't dead yet, you know?"
Power, catching Mayweather off guard, stood up and swung a fist. But Mayweather easily blocked it and grabbed her by the throat, hoisting her into the air.
Just then, an unremarkable mosquito landed on Mayweather's arm.
Mayweather felt a sting and instantly let go. Power fell to the floor.
At that moment, a man appeared in the ring, unseen and unheard by anyone.
The crowd was shocked by Arata's sudden appearance. No one had seen the cage door open, yet there he was, standing right inside the octagonal cage.
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