Chapter 45: Let My Guard Down, No Dodge

Zhang Shicheng had already noticed Song Ren looking eager to try, and his anxiety deepened.

However, on the surface, he remained calm and collected, not even knitting his brows in the slightest.

He was putting on a masterclass of composure!

At the same time, his tone was extremely frank, carrying even a hint of steadfast determination:

"Baron, you and I both know the Tyrant's strength. You alone are definitely no match for him."

"Considering the times we've fought side by side, let me test the waters for you this time."

With that, Zhang Shicheng pointed in Song Ren's direction: "As for this one over here, it's obvious he's already exhausted, to the point that he actively let the Tyrant share his pressure."

"This proves that his stamina is failing and he can't hold out much longer."

"Opportunities like this are rare. Go on, Baron."

Baron glanced at the lingering blotches of blood still staining Song Ren's body, and then at the three cold corpses not far away.

Then he looked at Song Ren's forehead, where not a single drop of sweat was to be seen.

For a moment, the black fighter Baron was filled with a mind-boggling array of question marks.

Zhang Shicheng wanted to say something more.

But Baron had already raised both hands toward him, sticking up two high middle fingers, and unceremoniously spat out: "F*** you!"

You son of a b****, do you take me for blind?!

The Tyrant's strength is formidable, sure, but if I lose, at worst I'll just break a few bones.

Yet you want me to fight that monster—are you trying to make him beat me to death just like he did to the others?!

Baron decisively expressed his utter contempt for Zhang Shicheng, then took the initiative to charge straight at the Tyrant, He Ping, radiating an unprecedented aura of fierce determination.

Meanwhile, Zhang Shicheng's face turned pale; he truly couldn't manage the feat of facing death unflinchingly.

Especially when he saw Song Ren begin to walk toward him on his own accord, Zhang Shicheng instantly felt his breath catch in his throat!

It was just like the Muay Thai fighter earlier, facing Song Ren's calm advance, feeling that crushing psychological pressure piling up heavier and heavier.

The Muay Thai fighter had chosen to attack proactively.

And then he had been sent flying by Song Ren in five kicks.

Zhang Shicheng's expression shifted uncontrollably.

After undergoing intense mental preparation, when he finally lifted his head again, he seemed like a completely changed man, utterly calm.

His dark pupils mirrored a fierce desire for battle, as if he were risking everything, and his voice became cold and unyielding:

"These iron fists of mine will never easily let anyone break my spirit!"

Song Ren raised an eyebrow slightly, transitioning from a walk to a jog, and then suddenly sprinted forward.

The next moment, Zhang Shicheng leaped violently backward.

With crisp and decisive neatness, he flopped flat on his back on the canvas, clutching his chest while coughing violently, and spoke in a weak, frail voice:

"Damn it, I, Iron Fist Zhang Shicheng, have never considered myself inferior to anyone in my life."

"This time... cough, cough, this time I was careless and didn't dodge!"

"You, cough, you win!"

Song Ren rushed eagerly to the spot, only to have his expression freeze right where he stood, his eye twitching uncontrollably.

I haven't even raised my fist yet, and you're already pulling a scam on me!

He turned his head to look at the equally dumbfounded referee outside the ring, pointed at the flat-lying Zhang Shicheng, and asked, "Does this count as flopping?"

The referee's forehead was covered in black lines: "..."

Flopping?

Coming all the way to the top-floor fighting ring of Fusheng Building just to pull a fake fall?

Damn it, who scouted this fighter? He's completely thrown away all his shame, hasn't he!

With a dark face, the referee climbed into the ring and walked over to Zhang Shicheng.

He gave him a nudge with his foot.

Not a single twitch—

The referee's complexion instantly darkened further. He squatted down directly, leaned over to Zhang Shicheng's ear, and cursed in a low voice:

"Zhang Shicheng, what the hell are you playing at!"

"The fact that you were able to advance from the middle-tier ring was unanimously approved by multiple referees."

"If you dare pull a stunt like this, don't ever think about coming back to fight at Fusheng Building again!"

Zhang Shicheng maintained his flat posture, stubbornly refusing to get up.

However, he cracked open a sliver of an eye, parted his lips just a fraction, and whispered in a tiny voice:

"It's easy for you to talk, you coward. If you've got the guts, you fight him."

"I'd rather forfeit the money than throw my life away here!"

The referee was instantly left speechless.

It was simply because Song Ren's ferocity earlier had been too absurdly terrifying.

Although it had thrilled the audience outside the ropes to no end.

If one were actually in the ring, standing on the opposite side of him, just thinking about that scenario made one's scalp tingle.

In the end, seeing that Zhang Shicheng was dead-set on not moving an inch, the referee didn't say anything more, merely muttering:

"Consider yourself lucky, kid. The first match after advancing doesn't have such strict requirements yet."

"Otherwise, even with a big backer protecting you, you'd be dead for sure this time."

"Still, after this, you can forget about ever having a place on the top floor again."

Dragging the motionless, flat-lying Zhang Shicheng along, the referee left the ring directly.

The official explanation left behind was that Zhang Shicheng had suffered a sudden myocardial infarction during the match, leaving him with no choice but to forfeit this deer-hunting tournament showdown.

Although there was quite a bit of buzzing discussion in the audience, most didn't care all that much.

Compared to Zhang Shicheng and Baron, the person most spectators had originally focused on was the heavy favorite to win this tournament—the Tyrant, He Ping.

At this moment, everyone was undoubtedly looking forward even more to the ultimate showdown between these two remaining competitors.

And unsurprisingly, relying on himself alone, Baron couldn't even last two minutes under the Tyrant He Ping's hands before being beaten flat onto the canvas, unable to rise.

He Ping stared straight at Song Ren, his clenched fists cracking and popping, his face already brimming with excitement:

"Now nobody else can interfere with us."

"Let's put on a breathtaking, thoroughly satisfying show together!"

With those words, he lunged forward, sprinting straight toward Song Ren with remarkable speed.

The moment he closed the distance, He Ping took a fierce, aggressive stride forward.

Dropping his stance, raising his arms, drawing his bow-like fists—

He thrust his elbow forward!

Baji Quan, Iron Mountain Elbow!

Although Song Ren could tell that He Ping had a foundation in martial arts, up until now He Ping had relied entirely on brute force to aggressively break open the situation, making his moves heavily deceptive.

Only now, as He Ping closed in and unleashed his strike with the speed of a thunderbolt, did Song Ren finally recognize it as the style of Baji Quan.

His brow knitted sharply together.

Once closed in upon by Baji Quan, a style exceptionally lethal in close-quarter combat, retreating at that moment was already a fraction too late.

Song Ren twisted his torso to evade this ferocious elbow strike.

However, He Ping's follow-up pursuit came hard on its heels; his right leg stepped forward to hook and obstruct, while his matching elbow struck horizontally toward Song Ren's side shoulder.

Fortunately, He Ping's leg hook was neatly intercepted by Song Ren's intentionally raised knee.

The subsequent elbow strike was also skillfully parried aside, accompanied by a casual counter-palm strike delivered straight to He Ping's armpit.

He Ping possessed remarkably solid lower-body stability. Enduring the palm strike without flinching, he abruptly spun his back around to close the distance once more, then whipped back with a counter-elbow strike, only to be blocked yet again.

He Ping smoothly lowered his center of gravity, and his hooking foot slammed once more against Song Ren's knee.

Failing to gain any advantage in the low-line engagement, the subsequent Tie Shan Kao (Iron Mountain Lean) hastily unleashed by He Ping only managed to shove Song Ren back two steps, failing to generate any effective offensive breakthrough.

Even though that was the outcome, the spectators outside the ring couldn't help but stir into an uproar upon seeing Song Ren driven backward.

This was the very first time since the tournament began that they had ever seen anyone force Song Ren back in a direct head-on clash.

It was as if they saw a glimmer of possibility in He Ping.

Yet He Ping's expression only grew slightly darker.

Baji Quan was all about close-quarters melee combat. This ineffective Tie Shan Kao couldn't really be said to have pushed the opponent back; rather, the opponent had actively used the momentum to widen the distance.

This guy really was a master unlike any he had ever seen before!

At that moment, instead of feeling fear, He Ping grew even more excited, closing in to engage in hand-to-hand combat once again.