The surrounding crowd gradually dispersed, leaving the wide “river channel” to Zhang Shan and Qiao Jiajin.

The two men shifted their feet and slowly moved to the left and right sides of the “river channel,” forming a confrontational stance.

For them, whether it was the left or right side, there should be quite a few people coming and going at this moment, yet the “river channel” was exceptionally quiet—so quiet that only the breathing of two people could be heard.

Their breathing sounds were like welcoming applause and cheers, greeting this death match without rules, without restrictions, without protection, and without a referee.

The situation that normally existed on a regular ring, where locking one of the opponent’s arms would count as victory, no longer existed. Here, unless one side admitted defeat, it would continue until death.

Moreover, it wasn’t fair to regard this duel as a “ring match” because there was quite a difference in weight class between the two sides.

Qiao Jiajin felt that his current weight should be around seventy kilograms, less than one hundred sixty pounds, while Zhang Shan before him was at least over two hundred pounds.

Even on a ring with the protection of boxing gloves, rules, soft flooring, and a referee, cross-weight-class challenges wouldn’t necessarily be wise, let alone this death match taking place in this hard, narrow room.

Sitting at the edge of the viewing platform, Qinglong and Earth-Dragon also noticed the two men in the center of the “river channel.” They stood at the center of the entire chessboard, feet planted on the four characters “Chu River Han Boundary.” Though both were filled with fighting spirit, neither moved an inch.

“Magnificent,” Qinglong said.

After hearing this, the petite Earth-Dragon grinned: “They’re just standing there—how is that magnificent?”

“A kind of ambiguous magnificence,” Qinglong answered. “Neither of these two wants to fight here, after all, one careless moment could mean death. But the word ‘responsibility’ weighing on their shoulders forces them to make this determination. Humans are always like this—whether in large-scale wars or small-scale conflicts, they’ll say ‘I must kill you not because of what you did, but because certain reasons force me to kill you.’ This kind of ambiguous and self-contradictory rhetoric makes me find it exceptionally magnificent.”

“Simply put, they shouldn’t have to die,” Earth-Dragon chuckled with a “hehe.” “That they’ve been pushed to this point means someone else deserves to die instead.”

“Haha!” Qinglong laughed wantonly. “Interesting! You know you won’t survive, so now you don’t even have the most basic fear of me.”

“Does speaking the truth also deserve death?” Earth-Dragon replied. “You and Heavenly-Dragon are the same—the punishments you mete out to all the ‘Participants’ and ‘Zodiac’ here are like this. It’s not because everyone did something utterly wicked, but simply because you wanted to do it, and so you did it.”

In the “river channel,” Qiao Jiajin took a deep breath and slowly closed his eyes.

Under normal circumstances, how should a fight with such a huge weight disparity be fought?

—Yes, it shouldn’t be fought at all.

But now, if he didn’t topple this mountain, the situation ahead would become even more troublesome.

So to win this battle, there were three crucial points.

Technique, technique, and more technique.

With his build, height, reach, and strength all inferior to his opponent’s, once they started fighting he couldn’t even blink. In the time ahead, he not only needed to concentrate completely but also needed to display all his techniques at two hundred percent.

“A’Jin,” a voice echoed in his mind. “Don’t practice boxing this afternoon. Master Rong gave us two hundred dollars—let’s go play arcade games.”

This voice was both familiar and strange, as if he’d heard it just a few years ago, yet also as if he’d never heard it in his decades of life.

“Can’t do that, Jiu Zai,” he replied in his memory. “You go play arcade games. I’m really not good at them.”

“Practicing boxing like this is so tiring!” Jiu Zai said. “Boxing in the afternoon, fighting at night—you’re not tired but I’m getting tired for you! As a person, you still need to learn to rest!”

“But I can’t fall,” he said again. “If I fall, you’ll fall. If you fall, Master Rong will fall.”

“Don’t make it so exhausting!” Jiu Zai said to Qiao Jiajin with a smile. “Jin Ya Zai’s arcade has a new version of ‘Fatal Fury.’ Are you really not going to play it?”

“‘Fatal Fury’… Jiu Zai, it’s fine. If you’ve played it, it’s the same as if I’ve played it.”

Whether it was then or now, the situation wasn’t any different.

If he fell, Chen Junnan would fall. If Chen Junnan fell, Qi Xia would fall.

He himself was neither a mountain nor iron, merely an ordinary flesh and blood body. In order to use this flesh and blood body to shield everyone in front without falling, he could only polish this body into something resembling steel as much as possible.

Now, though muscle and strength had been lost, technique still remained. This was his only remaining weapon.

“Big guy…” Qiao Jiajin opened his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. “Are you ready for this death match?”

“I haven’t relaxed for a single moment,” Zhang Shan replied.

“Then I’m coming,” Qiao Jiajin said.

Before Zhang Shan could speak, Qiao Jiajin’s figure rushed forward like a powerful wind, arriving before his eyes. Before Zhang Shan could set up his stance, Qiao Jiajin’s right hand was already suspended in mid-air.

Zhang Shan steadied his mind and rapidly lifted one foot, preparing to use his knee to intercept the opponent’s attack, then immediately raised both hands to guard his chin.

Qiao Jiajin seemed to have anticipated this. He stepped on the opponent’s calf that was just about to rise, used it to spring into the air, then adjusted his center of gravity mid-air, swung both feet back, leaned his upper body forward, and threw a full-force flying punch.

This move in fighting techniques is called the “Superman Punch”—pressing all of one’s center of gravity and body weight to attack the opponent’s face. If successful, it could potentially achieve a one-hit KO, but one might also be attacked by the opponent due to an unstable center of gravity.

Though Zhang Shan’s build appeared massive, his reactions were extremely fast. Before his foot could touch the ground, his upper body had already protected his chin while dodging with a large movement. Qiao Jiajin’s sacrificial punch only grazed the opponent’s forearm.

But the next instant was rather difficult to endure. Just as Qiao Jiajin landed, Zhang Shan immediately adjusted his form and launched a horizontal elbow strike toward Qiao Jiajin’s face.

Qiao Jiajin also hurriedly protected his cheeks with both hands, but was still pushed back several meters by the opponent’s tremendous force.

After their brief exchange, both men’s expressions became even more serious.

Zhang Shan knew that the Flower-Arm Man before him was no ordinary thug. The fighting techniques he mastered were at least as much as his own, if not more. Moreover, ordinary fighting wasn’t like martial arts movies—the notion of going back and forth for dozens of rounds without determining victory or defeat was simply a pipe dream.

If that strike just now had truly landed on his chin, he would certainly have fallen into dizziness within a few seconds. If the opponent then seized the opportunity to execute a guillotine choke, from the start of the fight to being controlled would take at most twenty seconds, and victory would be decided.

Thinking of this, he could only reset his stance, using his arms to guard both sides of his cheeks.

Qiao Jiajin shook his arms that had been painfully jarred, moved his neck again, and similarly assumed a boxing stance.

At this moment, he narrowed his eyes and looked at Zhang Shan’s forearm. His fist had just grazed there, and a patch of skin had already been scraped away, with thin streams of blood beginning to flow.