Chapter 955: FIGHT TO THE DEATH

He Yuzhu turned his head and patted Tyson's thick shoulder, his tone carrying a hint of polite formality: "Mr. Tyson, I believe this trap wasn't set by you. However, I am still very unhappy with this kind of arrangement today..."

He Yuzhu was indeed angry. When they called him over this time, he had originally thought these people wanted to reconcile and play a friendly match. Now it seemed he had thought too highly of them... The last bit of warmth in his heart instantly faded away completely.

Fine. Since you all insist on my life, then I will turn this place upside down today.

Tyson didn't know what to do for a moment.

He Yuzhu continued to stare straight into Tyson's somewhat evasive eyes and said: "Tyson, you've seen it too; these people don't have good intentions. But I'm not afraid. You go over and ask clearly about the rules for me—if it's like boxing, where you can't hit here or touch there, then I'll turn around and leave, not staying for even a minute. If you open it up and let me use Chinese Kung Fu, I'll sign whatever you want, and I'll accompany you to the end."

Tyson's face burned with embarrassment; he nodded hurriedly and trotted over to negotiate.

Before long, a white man in a suit and tie walked over, explained for a long time, and then handed a thick stack of documents he was holding to He Yuzhu. It was covered in dense clauses, following the same style as the life-and-death contracts signed in ancient China.

He Yuzhu gave the clauses a simple scan and found they were about the same as what the man in the suit had said. He didn't even frown, grabbed a pen, and signed the two large characters "He Jian" with a flourish at the bottom.

In fact, these clauses were nearly cruel; as long as no weapons were used, there were no rules on how to fight or where to hit. Basically, it was a fight to the death.

As soon as the contract was signed, the host jumped onto the high platform as if he had been injected with chicken blood. His voice was as raspy as a broken gong, yelling and screaming to stir up the atmosphere of the entire venue.

A moment later, the heavy gate on the side of the iron cage slowly rose, and twenty figures filed in.

He Yuzhu squinted and scanned the group, immediately understanding—these people were completely different from legitimate boxers like Tyson and Holyfield. Their faces were layered with old scars; their brow bones, cheekbones, and chins were all covered in marks that had torn open after healing. At a glance, they were old hands who had spent who knows how many years rolling in life-and-death arenas.

The shortest among them was over one meter eighty-five, thick-limbed and broad-shouldered; standing there, they were like a wall.

Twenty gazes landed squarely on He Yuzhu, like a pack of wolves eyeing a deer that had wandered into their territory.

But within two minutes, the vigilance on those people's faces relaxed, and some even grinned, exchanging glances—the look clearly said: "This is it? This little guy?"

The iron stands in the spectator area were stacked layer by layer, like a giant circular coliseum.

The clinking of champagne glasses and the sound of laughter blended together; no one took the impending slaughter in the iron cage seriously.

On the big screen, the odds were jumping rapidly—He Yuzhu's win rate had been seventy percent at the start, but once those twenty menacing figures stepped into the iron cage, it plummeted directly to twenty-five percent.

The host's voice, straining to announce the odds, was intermittent amidst the clamor.

The men and women holding wine glasses couldn't even be bothered to lift their eyelids, as if the ones about to die in the iron cage weren't people, but a few fighting cocks.

He Yuzhu stretched his neck, giving it a light twist, and his joints emitted a crisp "click" sound.

He swept his gaze over those twenty ferocious faces, his mouth curling upward instead. Fear? That word didn't exist in He Yuzhu's dictionary. With his speed, let alone twenty, even sixty couldn't touch the hem of his clothes.

At this moment, the referee walked to the edge of the cage carrying a large brass key, inserted it into the lock, and with a "clatter," the heavy iron gate was pulled open.

The twenty people filed in, their iron boots thudding against the steel floor like beating drums.

He Yuzhu unhurriedly straightened his collar and stepped inside.

The iron gate slammed shut behind him with a "clang."

The group of fighters opposite him exploded instantly; twenty burly men charged over, howling, their eyes so red they could drip blood.

He Yuzhu's mind stirred, and the system in his head began to activate.

Ever since his system upgraded, it had gained a new function: he could use gold to purchase the duration of his peak state.

In the past, he could only maintain his peak state for three to five minutes, but now he could pay to extend it.

Without hesitation, he spent two hundred kilograms of gold. Instantly, a scalding hot current flooded his limbs and bones, and his body felt like it had inexhaustible strength.

Charging at the very front was a bald giant over two meters tall, with a knife scar on his left cheek running from his brow bone straight to his chin, like a centipede crawling there.

He swung a fist the size of a sand pot, bringing a gust of wind as he smashed it toward He Yuzhu's head, with the intent of smashing his brains out in one blow.

He Yuzhu didn't dodge.

He stomped his right foot violently, his entire body springing up over two meters high like a cannonball, and delivered a whip kick with the force of a thousand jun, slamming it fiercely into the giant's chest.

"Crack—" The sound of ribs shattering was dull and clear.

"Pfft!" The giant opened his mouth, and a spray of blood shot out, nearly splashing onto He Yuzhu.

He flew backward off the ground, knocking over three or four companions behind him. The floor of the iron cage instantly became a tangled mess, with screams and curses erupting in a chaotic uproar.

But these people were all desperadoes who had licked blood off the edge of a knife; seeing blood only made them crazier.

As soon as the giant fell, the rest not only didn't retreat, but howled and pounced from all directions.

He Yuzhu caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, and his heart skipped a beat—at least a dozen of them were wearing brass knuckles, the cold steel teeth glinting under the lights.

If one of those grazed him, it would mean five bloody holes.

He exerted force with his feet, his left leg sweeping out like a whirlwind, accurately kicking the man on the left in the temple; the man's facial bone caved in, and his body spun as he smashed into the person next to him. His right foot followed almost simultaneously, nailing the man on the right in the chin; the man was kicked into the air, spitting out a mouthful of blood mixed with broken teeth, his head slamming directly into the iron cage before he tumbled twice and fell heavily to the ground.

Two kicks, two people, lying there like two bags of rotten mud, motionless.

The remaining people paused for a moment, but the murderous glint in their eyes grew even more intense.

They pounced recklessly, trying to grab He Yuzhu to fight.

He Yuzhu knew clearly—he must not let them surround him.

He suddenly lowered his body, sliding across the ground like a loach between a giant's legs, and as he rose, he hooked his foot into the man's joint.

"Crack!" The knee snapped backward, and the man's lower leg dangled limply, connected only by a layer of skin.

He collapsed to the ground clutching his broken leg, emitting a scream that didn't sound human.

Having broken through the encirclement, He Yuzhu immediately began attacking their rear, his punches striking like lightning as he knocked down two more big guys in succession.

Those people immediately turned around and started chasing He Yuzhu again.

He Yuzhu then charged into the crowd, thrusting and dodging. Wherever his fists and feet passed, arms were dislocated or leg bones were fractured.

In the blink of an eye, a dozen people were already lying scattered on the ground—some were knocked unconscious, blood bubbling from their mouths and noses; some were curled into a ball clutching broken arms, white bone shards piercing through skin and flesh; others had their shoulders dislocated, their entire arms hanging like dead snakes, swinging back and forth.

Yet, the remaining men, their eyes red enough to drip blood, didn't retreat a single step.

They trampled over their companions' blood as they charged, like a pack of wild dogs smelling raw meat.

He Yuzhu ultimately suffered a loss. He had just dodged one person's fist, but failed to dodge the iron chain whipping toward him.

He felt a sudden numbness in his back as his skin was torn open, and warm, viscous liquid instantly soaked half his back.

He gritted his teeth, locked his gaze onto the iron chain still stained with his blood, and threw a punch with a sudden side-step, slamming it right into the temple of the man opposite him.

The moment the punch landed, the man's eyes bulged, blood from his nose and ears erupted simultaneously, and he fell straight backward, his head hitting the iron cage railing, splashing red and white everywhere.

He Yuzhu took advantage of the momentum to snatch the iron chain from the hands of that pile of soft flesh, his wrist flicking violently.

The entire chain instantly came to life, spinning around his body into a whistling circle of light.