Cai Jun fixed his gaze on Bai Ze, the murderous intent in his eyes as sharp as a dagger, undisguised and menacing. The scar that slashed across his face only heightened the savage aura that clung to him like a dark shroud.

“Kid, I didn’t think you’d have the guts to show yourself. Hand over the keys now, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll let you live after I’ve had my fun.” His lips twisted into a cruel sneer.

Bai Ze let out a bitter laugh, his voice calm yet laced with chilling confidence. “Oh? If I were you, I’d start kneeling now. Perhaps I’ll be kind enough to leave your corpse intact.”

Cai Jun’s face darkened, his expression a storm of fury and disbelief. Never before had anyone dared to provoke him so brazenly.

“Do you even know who you’re talking to?” he growled through gritted teeth.

Bai Ze’s eyes gleamed with mockery. “What’s that? Gone deaf so young? Should I repeat myself for you?”

“You’re courting death!” Cai Jun roared, his voice echoing with rage.

The surrounding underlings, ever eager to please, sprang into action before he could even issue an order. They surged toward Bai Ze, their loyalty driven more by fear than courage.

But Bai Ze didn’t flinch. With a flick of his wrist, he launched several poison-tipped needles in quick succession.

Swish, swish, swish!

In mere moments, three of Cai Jun’s men collapsed to the ground, their bodies rendered lifelessly limp by the potent tranquilizer. The remaining underlings froze in their tracks, glancing at each other in terror before hastily retreating.

“Useless fools!” Cai Jun’s fury erupted like a volcano. He glared at the retreating men, his body trembling with unspent rage.

As his anger ebbed, a sinister smile spread across his scarred face. “You think that little toy of yours scares me?” With a swift motion, Cai Jun drew a pistol from his waistband and aimed it at Bai Ze.

Bai Ze’s expression shifted, his brows knitting together in a slight frown. Instinctively, he ducked behind a nearby tree just as the first shot rang out.

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Bang!

The bark splintered where the bullet struck, sending fragments flying. Cai Jun’s underlings burst into mocking laughter.

“What happened to all that bravado?” one jeered. “Hiding behind a tree like a scared turtle now, eh?”

Another shot echoed through the air, the bullet thudding into the trunk mere inches from Bai Ze’s position.

Bang!

Despite their jeers and laughter, Bai Ze remained calm, refusing to be lured into rash action. He understood all too well that Cai Jun was trying to bait him, to draw him out into the open where the gun could end things swiftly.

Cai Jun, however, seemed to tire of his own game. His laughter faded, and a calculating look replaced the mockery in his eyes. He held up a hand to silence his men and then called out, his tone suddenly more composed. “Alright, kid. How about we settle this like men? A one-on-one fight. No weapons, just fists. Winner takes it all.”

Bai Ze snorted quietly. Bai Ze didn’t trust Cai Jun; his cunning was plain to see. But he stayed silent, observing his opponent’s next move.

To Bai Ze’s surprise, Cai Jun took a step back and began ejecting the bullets from his pistol, letting them clatter to the ground. “See? I’ve unloaded the gun. Fair fight, no tricks. What do you say?”

After a moment’s pause, Bai Ze gave a curt nod. “Fine.”

He stepped forward, visibly setting down his weapon—a deliberate display for Cai Jun and his men. Yet, inwardly, Bai Ze was already calculating the odds. His opponent’s muscled frame and scars spoke of a fighter’s history, likely one accustomed to violence. But Bai Ze wasn’t worried. His own strength far surpassed that of an ordinary human, and he knew Cai Jun’s overconfidence would be his downfall.

As the two men squared off, the atmosphere grew electric with tension. Cai Jun’s underlings whispered among themselves, their voices brimming with cruel anticipation.

“Boss is gonna crush him,” one muttered. “Back in the day, he killed two men with a single punch in the championship ring. This kid’s toast.”

“Can’t wait to celebrate with those girls once he’s out of the way,” another added, a lecherous grin spreading across his face.

Cai Jun flexed his fists, his eyes narrowing as he assessed Bai Ze. “Kid, you’ve just signed your death warrant.”

With a guttural roar, he lunged forward, his massive fist arcing through the air with deadly intent. Bai Ze, unfazed, raised his own hand to meet the blow.

Thud!

The impact reverberated through both men, but it was Cai Jun who staggered back, his face twisting in agony. A sharp crack had echoed faintly—a sound Bai Ze recognized instantly. Cai Jun fractured his fingers.

Not wasting a second, Bai Ze launched his counterattack. His fist flew straight toward Cai Jun’s temple, landing with unerring precision. The blow sent a shockwave through Cai Jun’s skull, shattering his equilibrium. His eyes widened in disbelief as he crumpled to the ground, lifeless, before his body hit the dirt.

The underlings, once so full of bravado, stood frozen in horror. Their fear was palpable as they stared at their fallen leader. Only two strikes defeated Cai Jun, the infamous “Death of God of the Ring.”

When Bai Ze turned his cold, unrelenting gaze upon them, they dropped to their knees in unison, their voices trembling with desperation.

“Please, spare us, big brother!”