Two hundred wealthy gamblers waved stacks of bearer drafts and shouted betting numbers into satellite phones around the blood-stained hexagonal cage of the Black-Tiger Underground Colosseum. The subterranean arena sat three levels beneath an abandoned industrial plant on the dark edge of Jiangcheng.
Rusted steel girders spanned the wide ceiling above the heavy steel mesh and barbed wire of the arena pit.
In the prime VIP box directly overlooking the red corner, Chairman Zhao Kun leaned back in an ivory armchair. His fingers tapped the mahogany rail. Behind him, Zhao Kai nursed a bruised jaw, his eyes bright with spite.
Beside Zhao Kun stood a massive fighter nearly seven feet tall, wearing a sleeveless vest of bull hide. His forearms were thick as pine trunks, scarred by jagged knife wounds. His knuckles were flat, callous slabs.
This was Iron-Palm Lei Hu. His Goodness Score hovered in deep, toxic crimson: -12/100.
“Uncle,” Zhao Kai whispered, his voice tense with venom. “Are you sure Lei Hu can rip Tie Niu apart? Lin Mo humiliated us at the auction. He smashed our river blockade. He took the three-hundred-year ginseng!”
Zhao Kun spat a mouthful of tea onto the polished floor.
“Shut your mouth,” Zhao Kun snapped. “The river was only an opening move. Huo was a fool who relied on mere brute strength. But Lei Hu has drilled the Iron-Sand Poison Palm for thirty years. His Internal Qi is at the peak of Rank Two. When he strikes, his poison qi rots bone within three breaths. Tonight, Tie Niu will leave that cage in pieces. And Lin Mo will sign over Taichu Hospital’s medicinal lines before dawn.”
Lei Hu cracked his neck, making a sound like snapping dry kindling.
“My younger brother Lei Bao sits in prison because of Lin Mo,” Lei Hu growled, his voice like grinding millstones. “Tonight, I will tear Tie Niu’s spine out through his ribs. Then I will mount Lin Mo’s skull on my bumper.”
Down at the arena entrance, the heavy iron security gates swung open with a harsh screech.
Lin Mo stepped through the doorway.
He wore his clean white linen shirt and dark trousers. Behind him walked Su Wan, carrying a slim briefcase, and Shen Qiaoqiao, holding a tablet with live market data.
Beside them walked Tie Niu. Tie Niu carried his eighty-pound Ancient Cold-Iron Heavy Sabre resting on his broad shoulder. His eyes were calm, but deep within his pupils burned a steady golden light.
Behind Tie Niu marched fifty elderly and disabled martial veterans. They were led by Veteran Sergeant Qin and several old soldiers who had served along the western border. Though many walked with canes or limped from old wounds, their backs were straight and their eyes were bright. Their Goodness Scores shone in clean greens between 88/100 and 94/100.
The arena announcer raised a brass microphone and yelled into the speakers:
“Ladies and gentlemen! The challenger has arrived! Chief of Security for Taichu Group, Tie Niu! Facing the undisputed ruler of the Jiangcheng underground, Iron-Palm Lei Hu!”
The crowd erupted into wild jeers and eager bets.
“Tie Niu? That farm boy thinks he can fight Lei Hu?”
“Lei Hu has crushed forty-one opponents in that cage! He breaks steel bars with his bare hands!”
“Ten to one odds on Lei Hu winning in round one! Put ten million on Lei Hu!”
Zhao Kun stood up in the VIP box, leaning over the brass railing with a mocking grin.
“Lin Mo!” Zhao Kun shouted across the pit. “You brought an eighty-pound iron cleaver to an unarmed cage match? The rules of the Black-Tiger Colosseum are bare hands only! No weapons! Are you too scared to let your dog fight like a man?”
Lin Mo stopped ten paces from the cage door. He looked up at Zhao Kun and smiled slightly.
Zhao Kun truly believes he has the upper hand, Lin Mo thought, amused by the man’s blind arrogance. He lost thirty-five million on a fake seal, lost forty million on rare herbs, and lost his river fleet. Yet he still plays the master planner.
Tie Niu did not wait for an order. He drove the tip of the cold-iron sabre two inches into the concrete floor beside the gate.
“No weapon needed,” Tie Niu said, his voice deep and calm. “Against a bully who hurts innocent people, two fists are plenty.”
“Hahaha!” Zhao Kun threw his head back and laughed. “Good! Then enter the cage and die!”
Lei Hu vaulted over the top railing of the VIP box. He dropped twenty feet, landing inside the cage with a heavy thud that shook the concrete floor. The chain-link fences rattled violently.
Before Tie Niu could step through the gate, the master of ceremonies stepped onto the raised platform beside the ring.
“Before the main bout begins,” the announcer shouted, “we present our premier pre-fight relic auction! An imperial treasure retrieved from the northern border tombs: the Millennium Tiger-Bone Tempering Paste! Distilled from the marrow of an ancient spirit-beast! Starting bid: ten million yuan!”
Two attendants wheeled out a small glass pedestal. On top sat a sealed jar of white mutton-fat jade. Even through the sealed wax, a rich, sharp scent of wild musk and fiery medicinal herbs drifted through the arena.
The martial veterans behind Lin Mo inhaled sharply.
“That paste...” an old veteran with an amputated left arm whispered. “My old squad leader told me about it. It can mend shattered bones and ignite internal qi like wildfire. But its medicinal heat is so violent that an ordinary martial artist will burn their meridians if they swallow it!”
Zhao Kun raised his auction paddle from the VIP box.
“Fifteen million yuan!” Zhao Kun shouted. “I’ll buy it for Lei Hu to drink as a victory soup after he tears Tie Niu’s arms off!”
Lei Hu grinned, his yellowed teeth flashing in the harsh ring lights.
Lin Mo did not hesitate for a second. He took the matte Black-Gold Benevolence Card from his pocket and held it up toward the auctioneer’s scanner.
“Fifty million yuan,” Lin Mo said clearly.
The arena went completely silent.
The announcer froze with his mouth open. The high-rolling gamblers in the booths set down their drinks.
“F-Fifty million?!” the announcer stammered. “Did you say fifty million yuan?”
Zhao Kun gripped the mahogany railing so hard his knuckles turned white.
“Lin Mo, are you out of your mind?!” Zhao Kun yelled. “Fifty million for a jar of bone paste? Even if you buy it, neither you nor your dog can use it! An external brute like Tie Niu will explode from the heat in ten seconds!”
Lin Mo did not even glance at Zhao Kun. He looked directly at the auctioneer.
“Fifty million yuan, cleared immediately from my personal card,” Lin Mo said, his tone casual and flat. “Deliver the jar to the cage door right now. It is a warm-up snack for my brother Tie Niu.”
Fifty million for a snack, Lin Mo thought with a quiet grin. The more Zhao Kun yells, the more my bank balance multiplies.
BEEP.
The auction house POS terminal on the stage flashed a brilliant emerald green:
[Ding! Payment Cleared: ¥50,000,000.00 RMB!]
[Transaction Type: Benevolence Pure Spending on Loyal Subordinate!]
[Target: Tie Niu (Goodness: 93/100, Chief of Security & Righteous Protector)!]
[Purpose: Millennium Spirit-Herb Body-Tempering Paste to repair bodily fatigue and spark internal martial evolution!]
[System Verification: Host is spending entirely on another person with zero selfish intent!]
[Triggering 100x Pure Benevolence System Refund!]
[Refund Amount: +¥5,000,000,000.00 RMB!]
[Funds deposited directly into Host Personal Liquid Vault!]
[Personal Liquid Vault: ¥80,000,000,000.00 RMB!]
[Personal Wealth Milestone Achieved: Liquid Vault Reaches ¥80,000,000,000.00 RMB!]
[Benevolence Merit Points: +5,000,000 BMP | Total BMP: 172,949,528 BMP!]
Five billion yuan added in three seconds, Lin Mo thought, feeling the immense numeric weight settling into his personal account. Eighty billion in cleared cash. Zhao Kun thinks he is playing a great game, but he cannot even afford the pieces.
The trembling attendants hurried forward, carrying the white jade jar down the steps and handing it to Lin Mo.
Lin Mo took the jar, stepped up to Tie Niu, and snapped the red wax seal with a light touch of his fingers.
Instantly, a column of crimson medicinal vapor rose into the air, smelling of pine resins, wild thunder, and ancient bone essence. The fifty veterans behind them breathed deeply, their faces flushing with renewed vigor just from the scent.
“Tie Niu,” Lin Mo said, holding out the jar. “Drink it all.”
Tie Niu looked at the white jade jar. He knew how much money Lin Mo had just spent. Fifty million yuan. In his home village, fifty million yuan could pave every road, build ten schools, and feed thousands of farming families for years.
“Chairman Lin,” Tie Niu said, his voice thick with emotion. “This is too precious. My body is rough. I do not deserve—”
“Drink it,” Lin Mo interrupted gently. “You stood in front of poison needles for me. You bled on the mountain road. You protect the people who have no voice in this city. A jar of tiger-bone paste is nothing compared to your life. Drink.”
Tie Niu’s eyes shone with absolute devotion. He took the jar in both hands, threw his head back, and poured the thick crimson liquid down his throat.
GULP.
The entire jar emptied in three seconds.
Up in the VIP box, Zhao Kun burst out laughing.
“Fool! Total fool!” Zhao Kun crowed. “The Millennium Tiger-Bone Paste contains the searing fire of a thousand-year beast! Even an Internal Martial Master must dilute it with thirty bowls of snow-water over seven weeks! Drinking it raw will tear his stomach to shreds! Watch him bleed from his ears and nose!”
Zhao Kai laughed along with his uncle, clapping his hands in glee.
“He is finished! Lin Mo just poisoned his own dog for fifty million yuan!”
Inside the ring, Lei Hu crossed his arms, smirking with cold disdain.
“Stupid ox,” Lei Hu sneered. “Now I do not even have to dirty my hands.”
Tie Niu stood motionless in front of the cage door.
For five seconds, nothing happened.
Then, Tie Niu’s skin turned bright crimson.
A deep, rolling roar like thunder vibrated from the center of Tie Niu’s chest. His shirt ripped down the center as his back muscles expanded, knotting into thick bands of bronze cord.
HISS!
Pillars of white and golden steam hissed outward from every pore on Tie Niu’s shoulders. The steam swirled around his frame, twisting into the faint, magnificent shape of a roaring golden tiger!
The concrete floor beneath Tie Niu’s combat boots cracked, spiderweb fractures spreading four feet in every direction.
[Ding! Target Tie Niu assimilating Millennium Tiger-Bone Essence!]
[Martial Evolution Triggered: Bone marrow completely cleansed!]
[Breakthrough Achieved: Tie Niu advances from Rank 2 Early Martial to Rank 2 High External Martial Artist!]
[Ancestral Physique Awoken: Perfected Bronze-Bell Iron Body!]
Tie Niu exhaled a long breath of searing steam. The steam blew across the floor like an exhaust jet, pushing away empty cans and loose gravel.
His eyes opened. They were no longer merely calm; they held the terrifying weight of an ancient mountain. His bronze skin had taken on a faint, metallic sheen, as if cast from molten brass.
The fifty martial veterans on the benches erupted into wild, thunderous roars.
“Look at that aura!”
“That is the ancient Bronze-Bell Body! He did not explode—he absorbed every drop!”
“Commander Tie! Show that butcher what real strength looks like!”
Tie Niu rolled his broad shoulders. The joints in his spine cracked in a rapid series of sharp, rhythmic snaps, sounding like a string of firecrackers.
He stepped through the cage door. The iron latch slammed shut behind him.
“You are done laughing, Zhao Kun?” Tie Niu asked. His voice did not sound loud, but it echoed off every steel beam in the ceiling, rattling the teeth of every gambler in the front rows.
Lei Hu’s smirk vanished. A drop of cold sweat ran down the side of his neck.
As an experienced killer who had fought in border death-matches, Lei Hu’s combat instincts were razor-sharp. The man standing ten feet in front of him did not feel like an ordinary external brawler anymore. He felt like an iron wall that had stood for ten thousand years.
“Do not get cocky, boy!” Lei Hu snarled, trying to banish the chill in his gut.
Lei Hu dropped into a low horse stance. He rubbed his palms together with a harsh, grating sound. His hands turned an unnatural, pitch-black color, exuding a faint smell of rotting leaves and sulfur.
“Iron-Sand Poison Palm!” a veteran in the front row warned loudly. “Tie Niu, watch his hands! That black qi can corrode flesh and rot veins!”
Lei Hu’s eyes flashed with murderous intent.
“Die, brat!”
With a savage kick off the concrete, Lei Hu shot forward like a black cannonball. The air shrieked as his right palm tore through the space between them, aimed with pinpoint precision straight at Tie Niu’s throat!
It was a killing strike designed to crush the windpipe, sever the carotid artery, and inject toxic internal qi directly into the brain.
In the VIP box, Zhao Kun raised his wine glass in anticipation.
“Kill him!” Zhao Kun roared.
Tie Niu did not dodge. He did not raise his hands to block.
He simply stood there, his chin lifted slightly, meeting Lei Hu’s venomous glare with stone-cold indifference.
CLANG!
A sound like an iron battering ram striking a ten-ton temple bell exploded through the underground colosseum.
A visible shockwave of golden qi blasted outward from Tie Niu’s neck, blowing the dust off the canvas floor in a perfect circle!