Chapter 47: How Dare You Threaten Me

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The gladiatorial bout at Fusheng Building had begun circulating through certain circles.

Although most of the gamblers had been wiped out in one stroke by Song Ren, the enormous underdog, the exhilarating and bloody spectacle still made these elite patrons feel that their trip had been worthwhile.

It had even sent Fusheng Building’s reputation soaring to new heights.

In that single match, Song Ren had beaten three fighters to death and claimed five victories in one fell swoop.

It could be said that his name had been made on the top-tier fight circuit.

…

Three days later, at an ultra-luxurious private club.

Song Ren had managed to reserve a private room there only through Zhu Bao’er’s influence.

This time, he had come specifically to entertain a tycoon from Hong Kong.

As far as his status was concerned, Song Ren had already cast off the labels of death-row inmate at Stanley Prison and, indeed, criminal altogether.

The death-row identity had merely been a substitute for his true one.

As agreed, he had helped the warden win that highly publicized bout.

The warden had already made a fortune from it.

Though reluctant to let Song Ren go just like that, he had to keep his word. After all, Song Ren was clearly more than an ordinary criminal.

Moreover, after the match, Song Ren’s reputation had grown so prominent that most of the major backers had taken notice of him.

It was virtually impossible to exploit such a massive underdog again.

With Zhu Bao’er also invoking the name of Sir Zhu and mediating behind the scenes, the warden had simply gone along with the current and offered him this favor—one that did not really cost him anything.

Inside the private room—

Song Ren wore a well-tailored black suit with a crisp white shirt beneath it.

He sat quietly in his chair, eyes closed as he rested.

After a while, he lowered his gaze to the silver watch on his wrist. More than half an hour had passed since the appointed time.

The tea on the table had been replaced several times, yet the private room remained utterly silent.

Song Ren was extremely patient. Leaning back in his seat, he continued to doze with his eyes closed.

Another half hour or so passed before footsteps sounded outside the room.

Song Ren opened his eyes and turned toward the door.

It opened, and a group led by Huo Zhaotang entered under the obsequious guidance of a floor manager.

Huo Zhaotang wore a bespoke suit and a neatly knotted tie. He was of average height, with a slightly plump, medium build.

He was around fifty, with a high-receding hairline and the unmistakable Mediterranean hairstyle of a consummate elite.

Two black-clad bodyguards with wary eyes entered beside him.

Two others had been stationed outside the private-room door.

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Song Ren rose and walked over, extending his hand.

“Mr. Huo, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Huo Zhaotang glanced down at the hand Song Ren offered.

He merely smiled faintly, then brushed past Song Ren without taking it.

He went straight to the seat of honor at the tea table, while the two bodyguards quietly stood behind him.

Song Ren glanced at his hand, still suspended in midair, smiled, withdrew it naturally, and turned to sit opposite Huo Zhaotang.

Before Song Ren could speak, Huo Zhaotang said bluntly,

“I know about what happened at Fusheng Building, and I know about your relationship with Bao’er.”

“That’s why I agreed to meet you here at Bao’er’s request.”

“But as chairman of the Ho Bank, you should also understand that I’m genuinely very busy most days.”

“So whatever you have to say, you’d better get to the point.”

Song Ren nodded. “All right, then let’s keep it—”

“I think,” Huo Zhaotang interrupted before he could finish.

He glanced at his watch and asked in a tone of certainty, “I assume one minute should be enough?”

“…”

Song Ren raised an eyebrow at him.

Booking this private room had cost him most of his fortune.

He had only managed to secure it by borrowing Zhu Bao’er’s influence, and in the end, he had been granted no more than a minute?

The rich really were something else…

Song Ren gave a self-mocking smile, then raised his head. His voice grew calm.

“All right. One minute will be more than enough.”

Huo Zhaotang looked at him with mild surprise.

This young man had quite a remarkable composure.

I’ve made my attitude clear enough, haven’t I?

Perhaps I should make it even clearer.

Huo Zhaotang entertained the thought with a trace of malicious amusement.

He did not believe that a fighter from the very bottom of society was qualified to speak with him as an equal.

If his future daughter-in-law had not personally asked him to come, he would never have accepted this invitation.

One minute was already charity.

Song Ren was equally straightforward. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a photocopy of a handwritten booklet.

He pushed it across the table.

“Mr. Huo, would you care to take a look?”

Huo Zhaotang only glanced at the cover before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“One minute is almost up. I doubt I’ll be able to finish it. I think I’ll leave it for next time.”

Song Ren replied evenly, “You’ll finish it, Mr. Huo.”

Huo Zhaotang’s tone remained calm, even absolute.

“If I say I won’t finish it, then I certainly won’t finish it.”

With that, he rose and prepared to leave.

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Song Ren smiled and withdrew the booklet.

But as Huo Zhaotang brushed past him, he added in an utterly composed voice,

“Mr. Huo, Ah Lok asked me to send his regards.”

Huo Zhaotang’s unhurried steps halted.

The formulaic smile on his face stiffened.

He turned back and looked at Song Ren, who remained seated, motionless and imposing.

Then he looked at the white booklet lying on the table—the photocopy.

After a long pause, Huo Zhaotang sat back down without expression.

“Mr. Huo?” Song Ren said. “You haven’t left? Did you forget something?”

Huo Zhaotang stared deeply at him, then extended a hand.

“Give me the booklet.”

Song Ren raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you afraid you wouldn’t finish it?”

Huo Zhaotang’s face darkened. He kept his hand out, demanding the booklet in silence.

Song Ren let out a quiet scoff.

Then, in ringing words that struck the table like iron, he said,

“I told you. You’ll finish it.”

Even if you can’t finish it, you’ll sit down and read it to the end!

Huo Zhaotang’s expression grew even darker, but he continued holding out his hand.

Song Ren glanced at it.

Then he flung the photocopy across the table. It struck Huo Zhaotang squarely in the chest before dropping onto the tea table.

The two bodyguards behind Huo Zhaotang immediately frowned.

But without an order from their employer, they could not act rashly.

Huo Zhaotang looked grim, yet silently withdrew his hand, picked up the photocopy, and began turning through it page by page.

Before long, his expression grew increasingly complicated.

The pages contained fragments of important information that Ah Lok had casually copied down while carrying out tasks for Huo Zhaotang.

Though it was merely the tip of the iceberg, the existence of this booklet was nearly enough to establish that Ah Lok must have backups of other materials as well.

After a long while, Huo Zhaotang raised his head again.

The usually refined and dignified magnate lost control of his temper for the first time. Each word came through clenched teeth.

“You little bastard! How dare you threaten me!”

Song Ren lounged carelessly against the back of his chair, apparently amused by the outburst. He tipped back his head and laughed without restraint.

At last, he lowered it again. All traces of amusement had vanished from his eyes, and his features had grown razor-sharp.

“Damn it! Why else would I invite you out for tea?”