Tycoon War God

Chapter 112: My Words Are As Weighty As the Nine Cauldrons!


"Elder Brother Mu, what did you say?"

The club was noisy, and Liu Zijian hadn't heard Lin Mu clearly.

Lin Mu said, "The shorter one is going to win."

Liu Zijian looked up at the stage. A tall fighter and a short one were trading blows, their movements incredibly fast. The tall man was at least two meters tall and powerfully built, his punches carrying immense force. In contrast, the other fighter was barely 1.6 meters tall and quite frail; he was already injured.

"Pfft, what do you know, kid? Although that Hai Feng is also a champion with ninety-nine consecutive wins, how can he compare to Wu Hao? Forget physique and strength; Wu Hao has defeated countless experts. Betting on him is a guaranteed win."

"This kid doesn't know a thing. Let's just watch the match."

A few people nearby scoffed at Lin Mu's remark.

Lin Mu didn't bother to explain; he just smiled.

Liu Zijian, however, trusted Lin Mu completely.

On the third floor, a cold smirk played on Fang Ziming's lips.

Trying to win money in my territory? Not if I have anything to say about it.

On the stage, the large man named Wu Hao landed a punch. Hai Feng failed to dodge in time and was struck in the chest.

"PFFT!"

Hai Feng spat a mouthful of blood, his movements slowing.

The entire arena erupted in cheers, chanting Wu Hao's name.

"See that, kid? That's Wu Hao's strength! Hai Feng is nothing. If you want to win money, you have to follow us."

The wealthy businessman who had ridiculed Lin Mu earlier laughed heartily. He had bet heavily on Wu Hao today. If Wu Hao won, he wouldn't just recoup his previous losses; he'd make a huge profit on top of it.

"Boss Zhang, when you win, you have to remember to take me on that trip. You've been promising me for so long," the alluring woman in the businessman's arms purred.

"You worthless tramp, have I ever broken a promise to you?" the businessman snarled, grabbing the woman. He laughed loudly. "Just take good care of me tonight, and I'll take you to the Maldives for a month."

"Oh, Boss Zhang, you're terrible," the woman said, wincing in pain before giving another flirtatious smile. She glanced disdainfully at Lin Mu.

So what if he's handsome? He isn't rich like Boss Zhang, and he has no sense. He's clearly just some poor loser.

On the stage, Wu Hao roared with laughter. "It's over! The title of King of Thunder is mine!"

As his laughter faded, Wu Hao lunged forward with both fists, aiming straight for Hai Feng's head.

Just as the punches were about to land, a grin that showed his treacherous plan had succeeded spread across Hai Feng's face. In the next instant, Hai Feng dropped to his knees and threw a punch straight up into Wu Hao's groin.

Wu Hao was in mid-air and couldn't generate any leverage, leaving him completely vulnerable to Hai Feng's blow.

"AARGH!"

At that moment, every man in the audience instinctively crossed his legs, his face turning pale.

THUD!

Wu Hao's body fell limply to the stage floor. His eyes rolled back as his body convulsed in excruciating pain.

Hai Feng slowly rose to his feet. With a vicious grin, he walked over to Wu Hao, grabbed him by the collar, and raised his other fist high, glancing toward the stands.

Every eye in the arena was fixed on his raised fist.

CRACK!

In the next moment, Hai Feng's fist slammed down, snapping Wu Hao's neck.

A dead silence fell over the arena. It was broken by a wave of curses, mixed with a few scattered cheers. Most people had lost their bets on this fight, but the few who had bet on Hai Feng had won big.

"Damn it!"

The wealthy businessman near Lin Mu cursed loudly, got up angrily, and stormed outside.

"Boss Zhang, wait for me! Didn't you say you were taking me to the Maldives?" the woman cried, hurrying after him.

"Maldives, my ass! Get lost!" Enraged from losing a huge sum of money, the businessman slapped the woman, sending her sprawling.

Lying on the ground, the woman wailed, calling him a heartless bastard.

Lin Mu slowly shook his head without a shred of pity.

"Haha! Congratulations to Hai Feng on becoming our club's new champion!" a referee announced as he walked onto the stage. He raised Hai Feng's hand high and smiled down at the crowd. "Next up, we will begin the Champion's Challenge Match! Is there anyone who wishes to come to the stage and challenge him?"

As for Wu Hao's body, it had already been carried away. The dead had no rights here.

"If there's no one..." The referee glanced toward the third floor, gave a subtle nod, and continued, "Then, according to club rules, we will randomly draw one of the contestants from the upcoming matches."

"Of course, this is just a regular challenge, not a fight to the death. The chosen contestant can surrender if they know they are no match."

The crowd below cheered. This was a rare spectacle. The upcoming contestants were mostly weak—certainly no match for Hai Feng. With a random draw, they could still place bets. This was clearly the club's way of giving them free money. It would be foolish not to take it.

Just then, a staff member brought a box onto the stage. The referee reached in, casually drew out a slip of paper, and announced with a small smile, "The chosen contestant is... Lin Mu."

"Will contestant Lin Mu please prepare for the match." As he spoke, the referee shot a meaningful glance in Lin Mu's direction.

"Elder Brother Mu, they're cheating! This is deliberate!" Liu Zijian said indignantly.

Lin Mu nodded. "Of course, I know."

The cheating was blatant, but the audience didn't care. They just wanted a good show and a chance to win money—a perfect combination.

"Is contestant Lin Mu ready?" the referee called out. "If you don't wish to come up, you can also forfeit."

"Elder Brother Mu, just forfeit," Liu Zijian urged. "That guy has won a hundred fights in a row. He must be incredibly strong."

Lin Mu smiled faintly, slowly stood up, and started walking toward the stage.

"Elder Brother Mu..." Liu Zijian looked terrified. It wasn't that he lacked faith in Lin Mu; it was that the man named Hai Feng had won a hundred consecutive matches and was utterly ruthless. If anything happened to Lin Mu, Liu Zijian would be tormented by guilt for the rest of his life.

"Do you have the money?" Lin Mu paused and asked Liu Zijian.

"Ah? Yes, I do," Liu Zijian replied, quickly nodding. He assumed Lin Mu wanted to pay his way out of the trouble. He had brought all the money Lin Mu had given him.

"Good. Go bet it all on me to win."

Lin Mu grinned and continued his slow walk toward the ring.

When the crowd saw a contestant emerging from the spectator stands, a wave of scornful gasps and uproar spread through the arena.

"This kid is a contestant?"

"Is he looking for a death wish?"

Ignoring the crowd's comments, Lin Mu remained perfectly calm as he stepped onto the stage.

"I am Lin Mu."

The referee looked at him and said, "You can forfeit, you know. There's no need to fight." He was trying to be kind; after all, Lin Mu didn't look like a fighter.

Lin Mu smiled faintly. "Forfeit? 'Surrender' is not in my vocabulary."

He then looked up toward the third floor and added with a smile, "Besides, I've said it before: I'm going to destroy this foul and corrupt Ghost Land."

"I always do as I say. My word is as binding as the Nine Cauldrons!"

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