Chapter 116: Victory
Chapter 116: Victory
“Cheers!”
Kume Nansho raised his glass and happily drank with an elderly, white-haired man sitting opposite him in a wheelchair.
“Wakabayashi, it has been so long. You’ve grown even older. Every time we meet, I feel like you’ll end up kicking the bucket within a few years… yet when I come back to see you, I find that besides becoming more and more like an old monster, you stubbornly cling to life, old but not dead.”
“Haha, Nansho, you’ve made me drink so much. How could I close my eyes for good before I drink my share back?”
The white-haired old man wore a high-quality tsukimon-bakama and sat peacefully on the wheelchair cushion. Behind him stood a beautiful woman in a kimono.
This was the only VIP room in the underground fighting arena. From the balcony’s one-way glass, one could look down at the rankings of the fighting school below.
Moreover, electronic screens were installed on all four sides of the VIP room, allowing a clear view of the ring up close.
“Speaking of which, Nansho, weren’t you always against taking disciples?”
“This isn’t a formal disciple, I just taught him a bit casually…”
“How unusual!”
The old man stroked his chin and said, “I’m not a martial artist, and I don’t know much about fist techniques, but even I can tell that his personality is nothing like yours. It’s rare for you to teach fist techniques to such a ‘person’.”
“The kid has good talent. It’d be a waste to leave him be. Sakaki Tetsuhei recommended him.”
Kume Nansho clicked his tongue in displeasure, as if something didn’t sit right with him.
“Talented but stinky disciples are the most annoying, so it’s best they face some setbacks. Through that, their immature aspects can be corrected?”
The old man shook his head and sighed, “If just any immature young guy could beat two of our fighters to the ground, then our Iwamoto Group might as well not stick around in this place.”
“Hahaha! Even if he’s just a kid I casually taught, he’s not someone ordinary people can handle…”
Kume Nansho downed the whiskey in his hand in one go.
“That kid called Iron Fiend you brought here is pretty good. He seems aware he’s no match for his opponent. Knowing the ‘gap’ is undoubtedly key for a fighter.”
“Hehe, even if there’s a gap, that kid Iron Fiend won’t give up so easily.”
“Oh! That’s somewhat interesting.”
“Let’s make a bet! Iron Fiend is one of my aces here. If even he loses, I’ll give you that bottle of wine I’ve treasured for years.”
“Then you’re definitely going to lose.”
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Everyone thought this would be a match with no contest.
Iron Fiend was the ace fighter here; he couldn’t lose. When he stepped into the ring, it meant the opponent would get beaten badly.
The only one who knew things weren’t that simple was Iron Fiend himself at the forefront.
He was extremely tense, his eyes fixed intently on Fang Jing as if facing a formidable enemy.
Standing opposite him, the young man was as steady as a mountain, his body as still as if cast from iron.
The spectators outside the cage shouted in dissatisfaction. They couldn’t tell who was stronger but were unhappy that Iron Fiend wasn’t rushing forward to beat up the young guy across from him.
Only Iron Fiend knew the truth. Beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead, and his breathing grew rapid.
He couldn’t wait any longer; it felt as though countless insects were crawling over his skin.
If this continued, he would be crushed by tension and pressure.
In that moment, the roaring noise from outside the arena faded from his ears as his attention fully focused.
“Give it your all!”
He knew well that holding back would do him no good. Only by going all out would he have a sliver of a chance to win.
A few incoherent sounds escaped his throat before he let out a loud shout, breaking free from the restraints in his body and taking a step forward.
This sudden step tore him loose from the chains of stiffness formed by pressure.
“Come on!”
Finally, at the last moment, he regained his composure. Fighting spirit swelled from within him.
In the eyes of outsiders, Iron Fiend looked like a massive bear pouncing on Fang Jing on the other side.
Bang!
The man shouted loudly, mustering all his strength to throw a jab.
His fist moved as fast as lightning, striking toward the opponent’s throat.
Fang Jing wore a faint smile and didn’t even glance at it. A leg shadow flashed, and the tip of his rising foot met the fist.
Crack!
The two exchanged blows with lightning speed; this was their initial probing.
A soft “pop” sounded as if the air had burst apart.
The brief lightning-fast exchange ended. The giant man retracted his fist, feeling as though his iron fists had been pricked by needles. The calluses on his fists were worn raw and bleeding.
So strong! So hard!
He had no time for other thoughts. He wanted to win; he wanted victory.
Immediately, his body abruptly crouched low, and he spun a kick toward Fang Jing’s lower body.
He refused to believe Fang Jing could remain standing still while continuing to fight him.
Besides, if he attacked his lower body, could Fang Jing still manage to stand motionless?
Yet his attack didn’t succeed. Fang Jing merely hooked his toe, lifted his foot, and lightly “blocked” with a floating motion.
Bang!
He hooked the opponent’s foot with his toe, raised his knee, flexed his calf muscles, and flipped upward. Iron Fiend felt a force spiraling from below, causing him to lose his balance and nearly flip over.
Iron Fiend had to leap back half a step to regain his stance.
The next second, he suddenly let out a strange cry and leaped into the air, kicking out.
Fang Jing raised an arm to block but felt a chill on his forearm.
His arm had been cut by something sharp, and a short blood mark clearly appeared.
“Toes.”
Indeed, Iron Fiend had been barefoot on the ground. At the moment of his flying kick, his toes acted like chisels or sharp claws, slicing a blood mark on Fang Jing’s skin.
Iron Fiend flipped in mid-air and landed on the ground.
“Again!”
He realized his attack had worked.
Standing on the ground, he felt the cold chill of the ring floor through his feet and the surging fighting spirit deep within him.
“Is this the ‘toe kick’ from Ryukyu Kenpo?”
Fang Jing knew that Ryukyu Kenpo was closely related to Tang Hand and Southern Chinese martial arts, preserving training methods quite different from typical Japanese martial arts… Among them, the more famous were basic drills for toughness, almost self-mutilating practices like hardening exercises, stabbing sandbags, practicing Iron Sand Palm to increase tissue hardness and pain tolerance.
Techniques like the toe kick and tiger claw largely stemmed from such hardening training.
Swish!
Iron Fiend, filled with tension and excitement that almost made him tremble, knew his hidden move had worked.
Without stopping, he strode forward and attacked again, his left hand fingers together sweeping like a bird’s beak.
Fang Jing also felt a slight thrill rising within him, seizing all his cells.
“If the opponent were too weak, that wouldn’t be interesting at all.”
He raised his hand and easily deflected the attack. Iron Fiend took advantage of the close range to produce a forceful sound, clawing fiercely toward Fang Jing’s face.
The claw was fast and fierce, instantly exuding an unstoppable fierceness.
Just the force behind this claw was like an iron hook or steel file, carrying a fierce and menacing aura.
Iron Fiend was confident that his hardened tiger claw could tear off half of someone’s face.
Fang Jing didn’t move, merely smirked coldly, turned his elbow outward, and met the attack head-on, deflecting the tiger claw.
In a flash, several bangs echoed as their legs and fists exchanged multiple blows in an instant, with no clear advantage for either.
Iron Fiend shouted, instantly closed the distance, and threw a fist that followed like a shadow, starting from his ribs and spiraling outward.
The fist force erupted within a small space, making the air seem torn as it whistled.
Fang Jing transformed his elbow into a palm, blocking the punch while subtly exerting force through his legs. He drew upon the power generation techniques he’d grasped from the Dragon Division’s Cloud Dragon Willow and the Water Division’s Torrent Skill, unleashing it naturally as if water finding its course.
His body sank slightly. No one could clearly see the change in his movement, but in that instant, he channeled force through his waist, legs, abdomen, and spine, rotating power transmitted from his heels. His joints cracked one by one, his whole body shook slightly, and Iron Fiend felt something erupt from within Fang Jing.
Fang Jing, close to him, seemed to transform into a revved-up truck, crashing head-on into him.
What happened next, Iron Fiend couldn’t see afterward.
He didn’t even know what kind of attack had hit him. That volcanic force exploded, instantly striking him and causing him to collapse unconscious on the ground.
All the spectators present stiffened, their mouths agape. They didn’t want to see this and were unwilling to believe it.
In their eyes, after Iron Fiend failed his close-range assault, he seemed completely “stunned.”
He stood there dazedly while Fang Jing, in the underground fighting ring, threw countless chaotic punches forming a blur of fist shadows, beating Iron Fiend like a sandbag.
Iron Fiend, unmoving like a wooden stake, was knocked out by a simple barrage of punches.
Seconds later, his head hit the ground with a “thud,” his large body making a heavy sound.
The spectators were dumbfounded.
The host was also stunned and only announced his victory after a long pause.
People in the stands roared in displeasure; some even threw cans or cigarette butts toward the ring.
Fang Jing coldly turned around, glanced at these frenzied spectators, and made a “throat-slitting” gesture at everyone.
This caused an uproar—shouts, curses—and meanwhile, some kept trying to rush the cage.
The cage door opened then, and Fang Jing saw his teacher Kume Nansho waving to him from the stands.
“Mr. Nishizuka, please come out!”
Several thuggish-looking guys didn’t look too pleased, but since their boss had ordered them to treat him well, they had to bow respectfully.
“Please forgive our earlier offense!”
“Hmph!”
Fang Jing didn’t say much, merely guessing that the change in situation probably had something to do with Kume Nansho.
Kume Nansho looked him up and down and said lazily, “Hey, Nishizuka kid, I told you before, didn’t I… In a fight, you’re not allowed to use what I taught you.”
“Yes, I didn’t use the moves you taught me.”
“But that move just now was ‘Iron Blood Torrent,’ combining the Dragon and Water Divisions. Hah, did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“But teacher, you never taught me. I always thought it was a technique I figured out on my own.”
Fang Jing also suspected that among the Eight Divisions of Hidden Secrets, there might indeed be combined techniques. But he truly hadn’t heard of anything like “Iron Blood Torrent.”
Indeed, this wasn’t something Kume Nansho had taught him.
“The Dragon and Water Divisions have combined techniques, divided into the ‘High Dragon’ and ‘Dark Dragon’ force methods. The principle comes from the qi and blood circulation of Chinese internal martial arts. Very few can grasp such an attack method without a teacher like you did.”
Kume Nansho was also full of doubt, unable to figure out how Fang Jing had managed it.