"F*ck, hurry up, you motherf*cker." John swore as he lunged forward, like the last one standing in a back-alley brawl with blood streaming down his face. The fighter furrowed his brows severely. He threw several punches, all of which were blocked by John, who staggered as if in a dying struggle. It looked weak, yet felt strangely off. The fighter swung a side kick, trying to knock him down. John suddenly got energized, shifted direction, grabbed the entire leg, and used his weight to bring the opponent down. The fighter’s eyes widened, his view constantly changing before he was pinned to the ground in a blink. He didn’t finish speaking before his teeth flew out. John endured the damage to close the distance, just to take advantage of the high-end chip’s technology. The fighter was beaten until his spit flew everywhere. John cursed inwardly as well. Why are the enemies in the ring all so tough? Under-skin armor maxed out on toughness, with pain inhibitors and nerve modulation making it hard to knock them out. John, nearly out of stamina, said helplessly. The fighter, mouth full of blood, couldn’t hear John clearly. He was pulled up by John and, before he could steady himself, was kicked flying again. Crashing into the edge electric grid. In an instant, searing pain and numbness shot through his body. The fighter convulsed while letting out a miserable scream. John frowned as he watched, waited a few seconds, and when he still showed no signs of passing out, raised his foot to kick toward his throat. The fighter curled up. He got away from the electric grid, but suffocation and severe pain turned his face beet red before his mind blurred, making a gesture of surrender. John breathed a sigh of relief. Didn’t expect the third opponent to be the weakest. He called the organizers to come in for emergency aid, saving the guy’s sorry life. [Bolago Club - Black Fist Corridor] "Shark Coin stuff, no skills but still come around, haven’t tasted suffering and think the ring is cool." Macao folded his arms, frowning, seemingly disliking these cocky kids. "Every year some bold ones come to try their luck, only to leave themselves on the ring." He just sat there watching as the opponent was carried away. Macao transferred the prize money and bets to him, taking up half a day’s time to save up a quarter’s rent for the Dan Street Apartment. Fair enough for physical labor. Moreover, the emotional value counted too. "Feel better now?" Macao asked. "It’s a bit simpler than contract killings, a good break from a mercenary’s life," John didn’t show much emotion. Macao hesitated a moment, then said, "You’ve already qualified for the invitational, don’t bother with the ring matches anymore. If you want, I’ll set you up with some well-known street black fights." John was a bit surprised, smiling as he fist-bumped him. "So thoughtful? You must be a great coach; your fighters must be happy." "F*ck you, John, you know how it is with the fighters under me... Street black fights can earn commissions too. I don’t lose anything, and it makes you happier." Macao shook his head helplessly. "Lend me your butterfly knife." The rookie ring matches also have tangible prizes; you can choose some melee weapons or fighting chips based on your winning streak. But those things for John... The quality was questionable, their origins unclear. Macao has been mixed in fight matches for a long time, with internal channels in the Black Gold Gang. Plus, John is a member of Bolago Club, so using custom services is most cost-effective. Used points to make an SOCP knife sheath. Isaac Military Industry’s butterfly knife uses a standard size, with universal accessories available, so production was quick. John packed up and went to the stands to watch a few matches, then got the message that his product was ready. Much more textured than the original leather version. John tried drawing and sheathing—it was very smooth. Whatever technology they used, the friction sound was very light, suitable for stealth assassinations. "It has interchangeable components inside, and built-in honing grooves to maintain sharpness. Of course, if your blade surface has a special coating, remember to remove the honing grooves... And here is a slot for adding neurotoxins. Whether you use it or not is up to your needs." Macao explained the internal design, handing over the sheath’s components and a sealed dropper filled with neurotoxins. John was a bit taken aback. "You can change this much stuff?" "Dream on, it’s internal connections, you’ve made a bit of a name for yourself in Eden City West District, reputation on the streets can be converted to cash." [Street Reputation Increase↑] [More Services Unlocked at the Black Market] John and Macao returned to Tipsy Bikini, chatting over the new black beer that Angelica mixed. The fight matches had indeed been rewarding. Real combat does sharpen close-quarter skills. John’s sense of technique, distance, rhythm, and stamina was becoming clearer. [Series Task Ring: Street Nova (Completed)] Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝✦𝘧𝙞𝙧𝙚✦𝕟𝕖𝕥 [Reward: Prize Money, Weapon Accessory [Alloy Knife Sheath]] The bar was very lively. Amber-lit long counters, red leather matched with dazzling neon halos, drinks and curses flowed in and out of metal-modified organs. Macao didn’t stay long. John drank alone, a bit distracted: Today was almost over, and his tie clip hadn’t contacted him proactively. Based on the intelligence from Kuang Xin... This guy had already checked the employee file’s info, could something have gone wrong in the follow-up? John was lost in thought. At this moment, a disheveled middle-aged man in the bar’s corner suddenly stood up, as if mustering courage, and jogged over to his table, asking:
