Who else?

Of course, no one dared to reply.

Liu Zijian watched the figure, his eyes burning with admiration, not envy. Because that was the best brother he'd ever had!

CLAP, CLAP, CLAP!

Just then, a burst of applause erupted.

"Spectacular, truly spectacular!"

From the club's main entrance, three people walked out slowly. The man in the lead was the one clapping. He was dressed in a suit and an overcoat, with a cigar in his mouth. Looking to be about thirty years old, he exuded a powerful presence.

"Young Master Fang!"

When this person appeared, the club's bouncers were slightly startled and hurriedly greeted him respectfully.

"You know the rules," Young Master Fang said, a faint smile on his face, though his eyes flickered with indifference. "Go accept your punishment."

The others' faces changed, because they knew the club's rules: failure in their duties meant severing a finger.

"Young Master Fang, we..."

Just as a bouncer began to speak, Young Master Fang waved his hand. A man in sunglasses behind him dashed out, seized the bouncer's neck, and twisted with force.

CRACK!

The man's neck was snapped.

"Since you've taken the money, you must follow the rules," Fang Ziming said indifferently. "Our club doesn't harbor idlers."

The remaining men looked at the body on the ground, their faces pale. Compared to losing their lives, they would rather lose a finger.

With a hardened expression, the security guard who had been on patrol grabbed a steel pipe, stuck his finger inside, and snapped it.

CRACK!

The agonizing pain from the broken finger turned his face ghostly white as cold sweat beaded on his forehead. He glared at Lin Mu, his teeth grinding in anger.

"What? Do you think one finger is enough?" Fang Ziming looked at the man. "You worthless dog, with your eyes that look down on people, you nearly offended an esteemed guest of the club. You won't be needing them anymore."

"Young Master Fang, please, no!" The man dropped to his knees, kowtowing repeatedly. "Young Master Fang, I've been loyal to the club! Please, spare me this one time!"

Fang Ziming waved his hand impatiently. Another man behind him reached into his coat.

Realizing things were going south, the security guard's face hardened. He scrambled to his feet and bolted for the exit.

WHOOSH!

A streak of light whizzed past, piercing straight through the man's neck.

"Ugh..."

He clutched his neck and turned around, the tip of a blade protruding from his throat.

Fang Ziming tossed his cigar butt to the ground, viciously stamped it out, and waved his hand in disgust. "Take these two to feed the dogs. Don't pollute my sight."

Several men stepped forward and took the two corpses away, apparently to be fed to the dogs.

Liu Zijian watched as the two were carried away, his face paling slightly. This guy is ruthless.

Fang Ziming dusted off his hands and smiled at Lin Mu. "I didn't scare you, did I?" After speaking, he laughed heartily. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Fang Ziming, and this club is just a place to pass the time when I'm bored."

Lin Mu looked at him without saying a word.

Fang Ziming laughed. "Brother, I see you've got some skills. How about going up for a couple of rounds? It's really exhilarating."

"How exhilarating?" Lin Mu asked.

Fang Ziming's smile remained. "Don't worry, it definitely won't disappoint you."

Lin Mu nodded. "Then let's play a couple of rounds?"

"Hahaha, brother, you really are a straightforward person!" Fang Ziming laughed heartily and nodded toward a corner.

There, a well-hidden camera was mounted.

The group walked into the club, a three-story establishment renovated from an abandoned parking garage. The first floor served as a general activity area. The second and third floors had been combined, with a large ring in the center where two men were currently engaged in a duel. In the surrounding stands, at least a hundred spectators shouted and cheered. Private rooms, presumably for watching the matches, lined the perimeter of the third floor.

"Brother, though we call it a club, we're all about the thrills here." Fang Ziming gestured to the ring and explained, "See that ring? Those two are in a Life-Death Fist match. You know what that is, right? It means only one person can walk away alive."

"Of course, sometimes, neither of them makes it out alive."

Fang Ziming pointed to the stands. "These are the spectators, and they're also the gamblers. They can place bets on who wins and get paid out according to the odds." He watched Lin Mu with a grin. "Little brother, want to give it a try?"

Liu Zijian wanted to urge Lin Mu not to be impulsive, but Lin Mu just asked, "How does it work?"

Fang Ziming snapped his fingers. "Simple. Pay the registration fee, get a number, and we'll arrange an opponent for you. If you win, you get a share of the winnings based on the bets. If you lose, you forfeit your deposit, of course."

"Do you die if you lose?" Liu Zijian asked.

Fang Ziming smiled. "Of course. If you die, there's no need to refund the deposit."

Liu Zijian's face changed slightly. "Elder Brother Mu?"

Lin Mu glanced at a private room on the third floor. "Then arrange the next match for me."

"What?" Fang Ziming was somewhat surprised. He said in a 'kind-hearted' manner, "Brother, it's not that I look down on you, but those two up there have each won ninety-nine consecutive matches. People have placed heavy bets on them tonight. Anyone who can win one hundred consecutive matches will receive a huge cash prize. If a newcomer beats them, the prize money is doubled."

"Of course, if you can't win," Fang Ziming's eyes narrowed, "then your life is forfeit."

"Go, pay the fee, and bet the rest on me to win," Lin Mu said, handing a card to Fang Ziming.

Fang Ziming looked at Lin Mu for a moment, then nodded slightly. "Impressive courage. As for the one-hundred-thousand deposit, I'll make an exception and waive it for you."

A man behind Fang Ziming took the card and checked it, his expression changing slightly. The amount was five hundred thousand! He'd seen that much money before, but he'd never seen a newcomer bet five hundred thousand on himself to win.

He glanced at Fang Ziming, who nodded slightly in return.

"Little brother, may I have your name for the registration? No offense intended." Fang Ziming's smile was now incredibly warm.

"Lin Mu."

Having said his name, Lin Mu found himself a seat.

Fang Ziming smiled faintly and nodded slightly in a certain direction. Then, he gave Lin Mu a deep look before turning and heading toward the third floor.

"Is that kid here to cause trouble?" On the third floor, Elder Cang's voice sounded.

Staring at the figure on the floor below, Fang Ziming chuckled. "Cause trouble? Does he really think my club is some bar?" His smile was no longer genial; instead, it became exceedingly sinister. "Since he's here, he can forget about leaving!"

On the ring, the two fighters exchanged a flurry of spectacular blows as the surrounding crowd roared.

Liu Zijian was on pins and needles. "Elder Brother Mu, are you really going to fight?"

Lin Mu smiled faintly. "It's free money. It'd be a waste not to take it."

Liu Zijian sighed, not knowing what else to say.

At that moment, the battle on the ring reached a fever pitch. A winner was about to be decided.

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