Inheritance of Two Trillion
Chapter 451 Underground Fist Market_1

Chapter 451: Chapter 451 Underground Fist Market_1

Bai Xiaosheng pondered the degree of measures he should take for his counterattack.

Chen Changqing and Chen Jiuzheng rejoiced over the predicament Bai Xiaosheng was facing, eagerly anticipating what would follow.

The father and son, Yin Dongfeng and Yin Haoran, were considering how to act next to maximize their profits.

In Zhongjing, at a place called Sifeng Bridge in the northern part of the fourth ring.

Unlike other areas filled with towering skyscrapers, there were no signs of construction or rejuvenation.

As part of the planned relocation that hadn’t yet begun, the old district looked extremely dilapidated, seemingly carrying more marks of time than anywhere else.

However, this area saw an unusual number of luxury cars, whose presence in terms of both type and quantity was even more exaggerated than in the city center!

Many wealthy individuals frequented this place!

The reason was simple.

It housed the largest underground Black Fist market in Zhongjing, and even in Anjiang Province.

Simply called Fist Market.

The word "market" originates from ancient times when people referred to fixed places or intervals of time designed for trading as markets.

In this world, there are markets for fruits and vegetables, for clothing and utensils, and even for flowers, birds, fish, and insects.

But here, what was on sale were fists and feet!

Sifeng Bridge had one large and three small, four special markets.

Stalls selling vegetables would open in the morning and evenings, but at a certain time, they would close their doors and pull down the barriers, turning inside into a "performance arena" with multiple rings set up for no-holds-barred fights.

Sometimes, the rules allowed no limits on the number of fighters—three or five against one was quite common.

But even these rings had rules.

No use of iron weapons was allowed, no life-threatening or crippling injuries, the fight was to stop when one party was subdued, and there were referees.

Many real martial arts experts and returning mercenaries would show their skills here, the rich would come to watch the fights and place bets, and more affluent individuals would select their bodyguards.

At that moment, in the largest site of Sifeng Bridge, a densely-packed crowd surrounded ten spots.

Those were ten rings.

A "broker" in his forties, Yang, with a smile all over his face, accompanied someone—Yin Donglei—walking inside.

As it happened, the two could be considered drinking buddies.

"Brother Wang, this time, you’ve got to pick out a few masters for me!" Yin Donglei said.

"How skilled do you want them?" Yang asked with a smile, "Nowadays, everyone is fragile and weak. Some people look big and strong, but when it comes to fighting, they might not even withstand a single punch. An average person, no matter how strong, managing one against two is already not bad. Against three or four, that’s just asking to be a punching bag. So, you shouldn’t listen to others about picking masters. If you need people, just choose five or six with good physical fitness, and that’ll be enough! Quantity over quality!"

For every extra person he rented out, Yang naturally got an additional cut.

Yin Donglei glanced at him with a touch of annoyance and said, "Wu, that bastard, definitely didn’t tell you."

Wu was the thief who had stolen Bai Xiaosheng’s phone at Haobei International.

His half tooth was broken as a result.

"I haven’t seen him for days, what’s happened to him?" Yang asked in surprise.

"Including Wu, five people with wooden sticks and iron pipes went up against one guy. Five minutes later, when I went to check, what do you know, all were lying on the ground!" Yin Donglei said with a cold laugh, "The bastard on the other side, barehanded and empty-fisted, and seemingly a weak-looking pretty boy, was the only one standing!"

"You tell me there are no masters in this world? Bullshit! If your guys are no good, I’ll go look for someone else!" Yin Donglei huffed coldly and walked on ahead.

Yang was taken aback, then smiled and hurried after him.

"In this world, of course, there are masters, but using a master against ordinary people is asking for trouble, and masters always have the demeanor of a master and won’t make a move lightly!" Yang stroked his goatee, as if he himself was a hidden master.

"How much money!" Yin Donglei gave him a sidelong glance and snorted coldly.

After all this chatter, it’s still about negotiating the price.

"Starting at ten times the usual rate, it depends on the individual. Especially high-level masters, especially expensive," Yang said with a smile.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to introduce masters to his clients; rather, masters were proud and haughty, demanding high fees, had a temper, didn’t follow orders well, and were heavy-handed, making them quite unstable.

So unless they were regular customers, Yang wouldn’t recommend masters to them, as he also needed repeat business.

And real masters wouldn’t take jobs as hired thugs—it was beneath them.

Of course, if the money was right, that was another story...

"Take me to see them," Yin Donglei pursed his lips, "money is no object!"

"Good, good!" Yang hurriedly led the way.

There were ten arenas here, and one was his. The masters "under his banner" would accept challenges there and showcase their strength.

Yang’s people would also set up betting at the venue, hoping to win big.

With winnings at stake, and money involved, Yang would naturally bring out his strongest masters.

When Yang led Yin Donglei over, he was surprised to find that the crowd around his arena was several times larger than those of others, and nearby, two other arenas had hardly anyone?

Yang was startled, but also secretly pleased.

The larger the crowd, the larger the bets, and the more he earned.

And among these spectators, there were many wealthy patrons hidden; should a rich person take interest in one of the masters, Yang would earn a hefty finder’s fee.

"See that, my arena is the most popular, and what does that tell you? It says my masters are top-notch!" Yang pushed through the crowd, leading Yin Donglei to the entrance.

"Let me tell you, the masters who can step onto my stage can take on four or five opponents with no problem. They’ll definitely meet your requirements. The people you want to deal with are nothing compared to them—pah—" Yang bragged as they walked.

Yin Donglei, eager to see the masters, nodded absentmindedly.

When they arrived, what they saw on the stage left Yang dumbstruck and speechless.

Yin Donglei was also stunned and after a moment, pointed to the stage and asked, "Are these your so-called high-level masters?"

On the stage lay seven or eight men scattered about, some bare-chested, some in training uniforms, and others in ordinary attire. They all had one thing in common: a purple ribbon tied around their arm, signifying they belonged to this arena.

At that moment, without exception, they were lying on the ground, wailing and moaning.

Standing above them was a tall man, his face extremely cold and his eyes sharp as blades or swords. His clothes were neat, making him appear as if he hadn’t engaged in any fight.

"My God!" Yang couldn’t help but groan, eyes glued to those lying on the stage, "Taekwondo stylists, Muay Thai fighters, Sanda competitors, professional retired athletes, and returning mercenaries, all down. Did that guy do all this?!"

Someone in the audience glanced at Yang.

"You didn’t see it earlier; they all attacked together, ganging up on the big guy, but within two minutes, they were all down!"

"This big guy, he’s already challenged several arenas, telling them to come at him all at once!"

"Yeah, he’s just too fierce!"

Ongoing comments from various people continued to interrupt.

Yang was at a loss for words, shocked.

Yin Donglei’s eyes, however, gradually brightened like torches, "This is the master I’ve been looking for! With him, that Bai fellow, he’s as good as dead!"