Unlimited Black Cards! A Mysterious and Wealthy Young Lady!

The fighting arena before them was completely different from the tranquility outside. It was bustling with noise, with shouts, yells, and betting calls all mixed together, making one's eardrums hurt.

In the center was a ring covered with black cushions, surrounded by excited spectators. The air was thick with the smells of alcohol, tobacco, and a faint stench of blood.

Manager Zhao led the way while explaining to Jiang Wenxi in a low voice: "Miss Jiang, this fighting arena was set up by some big shots, mainly for guests to place bets and have fun. Anyone can sign up to compete, and the winner can take all the chips on the stage; if you lose, you either choose to have a random match to rematch, and if you win, you can leave, or... you have to leave a finger as compensation."

These words struck Xiao Jie like a thunderbolt, instantly turning his face ashen and his blood seemingly freezing.

He was over twenty years old and had never set foot in such a savage and bloody place. Just listening to the roars from the ring made him shudder.

Jiang Wenxi's gaze slowly fell on his deathly pale face, her tone devoid of emotion: "Shall we have a match?"

Xiao Jie suddenly looked up and met her unfathomable eyes, his face a mixture of fear and disbelief.

He knew better than anyone that this was the only chance Jiang Wenxi was giving him—if he backed down now, there would be no hope for his mother's recovery.

With his teeth clenched so tightly they were grinding, Xiao Jie took a deep breath, as if using all his strength, and shouted to Manager Zhao, "Manager Zhao, I want to participate!"

Manager Zhao looked him up and down, his brows furrowing slightly, his tone uncertain: "Are you sure? Once you register and go on stage, there's no going back."

"I'm sure." Xiao Jie's voice trembled almost imperceptibly, yet remained unusually firm. "This is my only chance."

"Okay." Manager Zhao said no more. "Come with me, I'll take you to register."

Xiao Jie nodded, turned around and followed Manager Zhao's footsteps. His slender figure exuded a resolute determination.

"Wenxi," Fu Siya said softly, watching his retreating figure, "with his physique, his chances of winning against those people on the stage are probably extremely slim."

Jiang Wenxi gazed towards the arena, her eyes deep, and said calmly, "How will you know if you don't try?"

Upon hearing this, everyone was taken aback, exchanging bewildered glances, unable to fathom her thoughts.

"Alright." Jiang Wenxi withdrew her gaze and said calmly, "Now, let's enjoy the game."

The staff at the registration desk quickly checked the information and handed over a simple set of black protective gear. Xiao Jie hurriedly put it on. The hard shells of the wristbands and knee pads hurt his skin, but it was nothing compared to the heavy anxiety in his heart.

Manager Zhao led him to the side of the ring and patted him on the shoulder: "Come up on stage, your opponent is already up there."

Xiao Jie took a deep breath, raised his head, and looked through the boiling crowd to the towering man in the center of the arena.

The man was about thirty years old, shirtless, with his bronze skin covered in hideous scars, his muscles bulging like iron blocks, his hands wrapped in thick white bandages, grinning maliciously at the audience below the stage, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"That's 'Mad Tiger' Ali. He's won three matches in a row, and he's really ruthless!" someone whispered nearby. "This kid looks so delicate, he probably won't last a single round."

"I bet he'll be down in three minutes!"

"I bet he'll just back down and leave his finger!"

The whispers pierced Xiao Jie's ears like needles. He clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms, the stinging pain clearing his muddled mind somewhat.

He couldn't lose; his mother was still in the hospital waiting for life-saving money and the best doctors—this ring was his only way out.

At the referee's signal, Xiao Jie stepped onto the ring.

The cushion was soaked with sweat, sticky and slippery underfoot. In the instant my footing faltered, "Mad Tiger" Ali was already approaching with heavy steps, carrying a strong smell of sweat.

"Kid, if you know what's good for you, admit defeat and leave a finger behind so you don't have to be crippled by grandpa!" Ali's voice was rough and hoarse like sandpaper, and his eyes were full of contempt.

Xiao Jie didn't say anything, he just stared intently at his opponent's knees and shoulders—he had never learned martial arts, and all he could do was to fight with all his might and seize any opportunity.

The bell rang suddenly, and Ali took the initiative, his fist, as big as a casserole dish, smashing towards Xiao Jie's face with a whistling sound.

The speed was too fast, and Xiao Jie had no time to dodge. He could only subconsciously turn his head, and the fist grazed his cheek before slamming heavily onto the ropes of the ring, making the ropes vibrate.

A sharp pain shot through my cheek, burning like it had been branded with a hot iron.

Xiao Jie staggered back two steps, his chest heaving violently, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of his throat.

He knew he couldn't confront them head-on; he could only avoid their sharp edge.

Ali pressed his advantage, raising his leg to deliver a sweeping kick aimed directly at Xiao Jie's ankle.

Xiao Jie's pupils shrank suddenly. He jumped up with all his might and barely dodged the attack. However, when he landed, he lost his balance and fell heavily onto the soft mat, feeling a dull pain in his back.

"Hahaha, so weak!" Ali laughed wildly and kicked Xiao Jie in the chest.

In the nick of time, Xiao Jie's mind flashed to the image of his mother lying weakly on the hospital bed, to Jiang Wenxi's cold gaze, and to the vow he had made "even at the cost of his life."

An unprecedented power surged from the bottom of his heart. He suddenly rolled to the side, dodging the fatal kick, and at the same time stretched out his hands to hug Ali's calf tightly.

Ali's legs were as thick as pillars. Xiao Jie used all his strength to tighten his arms, his knuckles turning white from the force.

"Let go! You piece of trash!" Ali roared, kicking Xiao Jie's back repeatedly with his other foot. Each kick carried the force of a thousand pounds, making Xiao Jie's throat taste bloody and almost causing him to spit out a mouthful of blood.

But he did not let go.

He knew this was his only chance.

Xiao Jie gritted his teeth, enduring the sharp pain in his back, and with a sudden burst of strength, lifted Ali's leg upwards.

Ali lost his balance and staggered backward.

Xiao Jie pounced on him, pressing his hands firmly against Ali's shoulders and his knees against his chest. His mind went blank, with only one thought remaining—to win!

He clenched his fist and slammed it hard into Ali's cheek.

One punch, two punches, three punches... He didn't know how many punches he threw, only the dull thud of his fists hitting flesh, the bleeding from his knuckles, and how Ali's savage grin gradually turned into a painful roar.

The shouts from the audience grew louder and louder. Fu Siya covered her mouth, her eyes filled with shock, while Li Xirui leaned forward, staring intently at the ring.

No one expected that someone as thin as Xiao Jie could throw such a punch.

Jiang Wenxi stood still, her expression still aloof, but a barely perceptible ripple flickered deep in her eyes.