Chapter 115: Insight

…He brushed the dust off his clothes.

That was an extremely arrogant statement.

The muscle-bound giant’s veins bulged on his head, and his rage meter had filled to the brim.

At the same time, in Fang Jing’s eyes, the flames around him grew stronger and more intense.

“You’ve got guts, but this is the Genbun Club’s turf. Not just anyone is qualified to cause trouble here…”

The muscle-bound giant flexed his fingers; his hands were hooked like claws, with freakish strength. Just a swipe earlier had twisted and snapped the steel wire.

Fang Jing also noticed this muscle-bound giant was no ordinary foe. In height, he was about the same as the white boxer named “Crazy Bull” Jack, but his shoulders were broader, showing a larger bone structure.

This wasn’t a typical Asian physique, and his build was excellent too—his Essence Qi was contained within, his muscle curves soft yet inwardly firm and powerful. He was likely a high-level boxer.

“Iron Fiend! It’s… it’s ‘Iron Fiend’ making an appearance!”

Someone in the audience screamed in surprise. Clearly, this was a well-known fighter.

His mere appearance caused an uproar. Trembling and excitement filled the air, and after a few seconds of pause, gamblers and spectators roared and shrieked.

Many in the crowd raised their arms, shouted, stomped, and yelled. The decibel level in the underground boxing arena kept rising.

Even Fang Jing, standing on the ring, felt the sound waves making the platform beneath his feet vibrate slightly.

(Strange! Teacher disappeared in an instant just now.)

He paid attention to Kume Nansho’s original seat, only to find that Teacher Kume was gone.

Fang Jing was quite stunned. He really couldn’t guess what plan his teacher had in mind.

Forget it. I just need to handle the current situation.

Bare-handed, one-on-one, there’s nothing for me to fear…

“Iron Fiend! Everyone, look—it’s Iron Fiend, unseen for so long. The man who dominates this Blood Altar has returned from hell once more to pass judgment on this pitiful challenger.”

The broadcaster’s voice stirred a chord in people’s hearts.

“Can this duel even be called fair? Is there any morality or ethics? Is martial art violence or not? Now, the answer is about to be revealed…”

“I’m not sure what gives you the nerve, but no one who comes here to pick a fight ends up well.”

Having reached the peak of anger, he instead calmed down. The man nicknamed “Iron Fiend” wore a cold expression.

Fang Jing could tell that the man named “Iron Fiend” hadn’t let go of his rage; it burned like a steady flame, a vibrant crimson light stably fueled by his will… He was truly angry, yet he hadn’t lost his cool, a stark contrast to everyone else in the venue.

“You seem a bit stronger than those two from earlier…”

Thinking this, the corner of Fang Jing’s mouth lifted slightly.

“Really unbearable. I actually got ranked on the same level as those two scumbags.”

Iron Fiend looked a bit annoyed. He twisted his lips and let out a cold laugh. “Kid, you’re going to regret saying that…”

He clenched his fists, settled into a stance, adopting a posture similar to a Karate stance.

“…Ryukyu Kenpo?”

Fang Jing had also studied various martial arts and fighting techniques. With just a glance at the movement, he guessed Iron Fiend was likely a practitioner of Ryukyu Kenpo.

“You’ve got a good eye, kid.”

Iron Fiend’s posture was simple and powerful; his feet were like tree trunks supporting a great tree, giving a sense of being grounded and rooted to the spot.

As Iron Fiend assumed his boxing stance, the crowd outside the ring turned red-faced, emitting sharp cheers, rising one after another, wildly cheering him on.

Unlike the treatment Fang Jing received—unpopular and despised—they were filled with a fanatical passion for Iron Fiend.

Outside the ring, the unusually excited spectators hurled all sorts of filthy taunts. They used this as a way to release their pent-up daily stress; standing outside, they felt a sense of control and superiority over others.

These people were just that absurd and ridiculous. As long as there was excitement and thrill to watch, their emotions would soar to indescribable heights.

“Damn, it’s Iron Fiend. This kid is done for.”

“Iron Fiend, you’re finally here. Beat this scum to death; he made me lose 500,000.”

“Go! Go! Finish him off!”

Unlike the frenzied audience and spectators, Iron Fiend began to move calmly, circling the ring with Fang Jing as his target.

Because of his movements, Fang Jing shifted his feet left and right, keeping face-to-face with him, adjusting as the other changed.

Iron Fiend calmly searched for openings on the young challenger, but he found none. This young martial artist had not a single flaw; every move was clean and precise, his responses almost impeccable.

“This guy… has a good teacher. Every move and stance of his is as standard as in a textbook.”

Standard!

Absolutely standard!

That was the first impression that surfaced in Iron Fiend’s mind, but soon, his eyes widened in disbelief, fixed on Fang Jing’s feet.

Just then… a thought flashed through his mind, and it made cold sweat break out on Iron Fiend’s forehead. He gasped sharply.

Damn! I actually didn’t notice until now.

This kid’s feet have been stuck firmly in place the whole time.

From the moment he entered the ring, whether fighting “Crazy Bull” Jack or “Maneater Beast” Saruwatari, his entire body only traced a circle on the ground. From start to finish, he merely stood in place without moving.

Only at this moment did Iron Fiend realize what a terrifying opponent he was facing.

A chill ran down his spine, and an unprecedented sense of crisis struck him.

…

Iron Fiend, that kid… seems to have finally noticed it.

A middle-aged man in a full black suit and sunglasses leaned against the corner by the entrance of the underground Boxing Dojo.

He had a scar on his forehead, exuding a sharp aura. His eyes studied the two fighters in the ring, a hint of depth in his gaze.

“Use your brain to assess the situation, not just muscles to solve problems.”

He lit a cigar for himself and exhaled a smoke ring slowly.

Even as a layman in martial arts, having been around the block for so many years, his experience in fights and brawls allowed him to see some clues. For instance, that kid had already, unknowingly, taken control of this ring.

Another noteworthy point was his feet… they hadn’t moved from the very beginning.

Yes, from the moment he entered, he stood firmly in place without shifting.

This wasn’t some amateur skill; it was the real deal from a true master.