Dual-wielding! 100x proficiency, I'll grind my way to godhood!

Chen Mo leaned back on the sofa in the VIP room on the second floor, a cigarette between his fingers, his eyes indifferent as he looked into the cage, but his mind was already thinking about how much strength he should use later.

His punching power reaches over 6,000 jin (approximately 3,000 kg), and he can smash a normal person's head with a single punch even without using internal energy, although that would make him dirty.

Sam, who was standing nearby, immediately came over when he heard that Chen Mo was going to participate in the competition.

"Mr. Chen, this is the most brutal deathmatch cage in Los Angeles. Only the living ever come out, and the dead are always carried out. If something happens to you..."

His meaning was clear: he was reminding Chen Mo that boxing matches were not child's play and that he shouldn't forget about business.

Chen Mo flicked off his cigarette ash.

"Don't worry, Mr. Sam. If you want to make some money too, bet on me to win."

Sam's pupils contracted as he looked at the Asian man in front of him, whose build was not particularly burly, and he began to have doubts.

Although Chen Mo had just lifted the 200-pound fat man with one hand, the guys below were all desperate criminals.

He didn't think Chen Mo was a good candidate and planned to place a small bet on Chen Mo and a large bet on the other player to win.

"Okay! I'll place my bet!"

The people next to him exchanged glances, their lips curling into undisguised sneers.

Chen Mo's lips curled up. Now that he had the strength, he wanted to take this opportunity to unleash his violent emotions.

in the country, you're too restricted; the slightest move can lead to a brawl...

Now, this is a private underground boxing match in America, where killing someone won't cause any trouble or psychological burden.

As for what outsiders think?

Why worry about so much? Just enjoy yourself.

An overweight arms dealer chuckled and whispered to his companion.

"Has this Chinese guy gone mad? He'll be ground into mincemeat by the butcher!"

"He's practically asking for it! Harry's already killed over seventy people inside!"

"Idiot! He's giving us money."

"That kid's dead meat! Mr. Sam's business is going to fail."

The whispers reached his ears, but Chen Mo seemed not to hear them.

The ghost beside him bent down and asked in a low voice.

"Boss, how much?"

"All in! Go all in!"

Chen Mo spoke in a flat tone.

He has about fifty million US dollars in his account, and he's going to make a fortune this time.

Without saying a word, Ghost took the black card and walked straight downstairs.

Not long after, the Black host in the floral suit grabbed the microphone and screamed at the top of his lungs in an extremely frenzied tone:

"Ladies and gentlemen! Scream! Welcome the legend, the myth, the invincible beast among men!"

"Who wants to see bloodshed? Who wants to see killing?!"

The entire stadium erupted in deafening cheers. Everyone stood up, stomped their feet, and roared. The provocative shouts mixed with profanities almost lifted the roof off.

"We want blood!"

"Kill him! Kill! Kill! Kill!"

The host suddenly pointed the microphone at the entrance of the iron cage, his voice rising to a distorted pitch:

"Seventy-eight wins, never a single defeat! In every match, the opponent was utterly crushed in the cage."

"He is our Grim Reaper, Harry!"

With a loud bang!

The lights in the entire arena dimmed instantly, leaving only a spotlight shining on the entrance to the iron cage.

The next second, a muscular black man who was 2.03 meters tall walked out.

His bald head gleamed, his muscles were bulging, and his body was covered in scars. His 340-pound frame seemed to shake the ground as he walked over.

He reeked of a pungent stench of sweat and aged blood, the smell so strong it made people wrinkle their noses even through half a cage. As soon as he entered the cage, he grabbed the iron bars and roared wildly, his face contorted in a ferocious expression.

"Butcher! Butcher! Butcher!"

The entire arena erupted instantly. Everyone stood up and roared, their shouts almost lifting the roof off. Everyone was cheering for this ruthless behemoth.

His opponent was an old boxer nicknamed Iron Hammer, who looked quite strong, but when he stood in front of Harry, he looked a whole size smaller.

His face was pale, and his eyes were filled with fear.

As soon as the referee's bell rang, Harry charged forward like a wild beast that had gone out of control.

He gave his opponent no chance at all, grabbed Iron Hammer by the neck, lifted him into the air, and then slammed him down hard, while simultaneously kneeing him in the lower back!

"Click—"

A clear cracking sound of a spine breaking drowned out the cheers of the entire stadium.

Iron Hammer's body twisted at a ninety-degree angle and he instantly stopped breathing. He was dragged out of the cage by the staff like a dead dog.

Harry raised his hands high, roared with his head tilted back, enjoying the worship of the entire audience. His eyes swept across the crowd, full of bloodthirsty arrogance.

The host seized the opportunity and shouted into the microphone.

"Who's next? Who else dares to challenge the Grim Reaper!"

"Boss, it's your turn to appear."

The ghost leaned down and whispered in his ear.

In the VIP room on the second floor, Chen Mo stood up, casually placed his wine glass on the table, straightened his clothes, and walked down the stairs step by step amidst the astonished gazes of everyone present.

The silence lasted only a second.

Immediately afterwards, a deluge of boos, curses, and laughter came crashing down like a tidal wave!

"Yellow-skinned monkey, get off here right now!"

"You'll die in there. This isn't a place for you!"

"This is a man's battlefield, not a place for a weakling like you!"

"Harry will crush you into mincemeat like he's crushing worms!"

Whistles and profanities filled the entire stadium.

The odds and betting odds were outrageously absurd.

Bet on Chen Mo to win, payout is 100; bet on Harry to win, payout is 50 to 1.

With billions of dollars in bets placed, everyone was betting on Harry to win; not a single person thought Chen Mo could survive.

Sam hesitated for a moment.

He gritted his teeth and bet 30 million Harry, but not Chen Mo.

At this moment, Chen Mo remained calm and bent down to crawl into the iron cage.

As soon as you enter, the stench emanating from Harry—a mixture of blood and sweat—is overwhelming, as thick as swill, and makes you feel nauseous.

Chen Mo immediately frowned, subconsciously took half a step back, raised his hand and fanned his nose, his face full of undisguised disgust.

Then he took out another cigarette and lit it.

This action completely enraged Harry.

Harry lowered his head, staring down at Chen Mo, grinning to reveal a set of uneven, yellowed teeth. His voice was rough and hoarse, like sandpaper scraping, full of mockery and murderous intent.

"Fuck you! Kid, I'm going to break all your bones one by one, and then I'll fuck your ass!"

"You'll regret being here. I'm going to torture you to death!"

Harry pounded his chest and roared at Chen Mo. The audience below the stage joined in the commotion, shouting "Kill him!" The violent atmosphere at the scene reached its peak.

Chen Mo raised his eyes, glanced at him coldly, and didn't say a word. The indifference in his eyes showed that he didn't take this so-called invincible butcher seriously at all.

The referee glanced at the two players, stepped back, and rang the opening bell!

"clang!"

As soon as the bell rang, Harry moved!

He unleashed all his strength, stomping his legs hard against the ground, charging straight towards Chen Mo like a raging beast.

He swung his right fist fiercely, the wind whistling as it flew straight towards Chen Mo's head.

With that one punch, he had already killed more than a dozen opponents!

Everyone in the audience stared wide-eyed, waiting to see Chen Mo get smashed to pieces by a single punch!

Sam clenched his fists on the second floor, his heart pounding in his chest; the arms dealers wore expressions of anticipation, waiting to mock Chen Mo for overestimating himself.

At the critical moment!

Chen Mo casually moved to the side, his figure so fast that it left an afterimage, easily avoiding the fatal punch.

Harry slammed his fist into the iron cage with a loud clang, causing the cage to tremble violently and the mesh to dent!

But he didn't even touch the hem of Chen Mo's clothes.

Before Harry could retract his fist and turn around, Chen Mo made his move!

With a sharp tap of his left toes, he spun at an astonishing speed, while his right leg straightened like a steel whip, drawing a sharp, full-moon arc in the air!

360-degree spinning kick!

"Bang!"

The massive 340-pound body was actually sent flying by this kick!

It slammed hard against the wire mesh of the cage, producing a dull, loud thud.

The entire venue fell into a deathly silence!

You could hear a pin drop!

Harry slid down the iron cage to the ground, motionless, his chest deeply caved in, broken ribs piercing his skin, white bone fragments stained with blood exposed, a horrifying sight.

From the moment the bell rang to the moment Harry collapsed, the entire process took less than a second!

There were no unnecessary movements, no entanglement, and no probing!

Just one kick!

Chen Mo pulled his legs back and stood still, a cigarette still dangling from his mouth.

He glanced down at his leather shoes, noticing a trace of blood on them, and his brow furrowed even more.

Turning his head, he waved to the ghost, who quickly walked over, took out a tissue from his pocket, and slowly wiped Harry's face without glancing at him again.

He was completely won over by Chen Mo!

The audience froze!

The person who had just been yelling at Chen Mo to get out of there had his mouth agape, wide enough to fit an egg, and couldn't close it for a long time.

The wealthy man holding a wine glass stopped in mid-air, completely unaware that he had spilled wine all over himself.

The person pouring the whiskey didn't even notice that it had spilled all over the table.

The entire stadium was eerily quiet, save for the heavy, incredulous breathing.

In the VIP area on the second floor, Sam slapped his thigh in exasperation!

"Fuck! My thirty million dollars!"