After knocking down Fatty Zhang Dachong with a single punch, Bai Hao didn't pause for a moment. His body pivoted slightly, and he lunged toward a tall man to his left front. A step forward, and his left fist arced upward from below, aiming for his target.
The tall man stood around 1.9 meters, a full head taller than Bai Hao. Having just dodged the toppling Zhang Dachong, he saw Bai Hao's fist flying toward him, panic instantly flashing across his face. However, his reactions were quick. He immediately retreated a step, raising both hands to meet Bai Hao's incoming strike.
Thwack!The punch didn't land squarely as intended, only grazing the man's arm, causing no real harm.
Simultaneously, the other men, momentarily delayed by the falling Zhang Dachong, now regained their footing and surged toward Bai Hao, some using both fists and feet.
Seeing this, Bai Hao's expression shifted slightly, but a strategy formed instantly in his mind. He first took three or four rapid steps backward, avoiding the combined charge. Then, pausing his retreat, he let out a sharp exhale and charged towardthe group. Both fists shot out, hammering directly at two of them.
He was prepared to burn his bridges. Throwing both fists meant almost abandoning defense. While this left him vulnerable to their attacks, it allowed him to maximize his own offensive output—the choice he deemed most advantageous now. Facing seven or eight opponents at once, choosing pure defense might block most of their initial onslaught, but that would only be the first wave, followed by a second, a third... He would inevitably be forced into passivity. It was better to switch from defense to offense, using overwhelming force to intimidate them.
"Ah! Ah!"
Bai Hao's punches were fierce and swift, landing on his two targets almost instantaneously.
The two men cried out in pain almost simultaneously, stumbling backward.
Although Bai Hao's fists had found their marks, his body was also struck in that same moment—two punches and a kick. Fortunately, the force behind their blows was noticeably weaker than his own, and his body could just barely withstand the impact.
Close-quarters combat had begun, and what followed was pure chaos. Zhang Dachong and the others, leveraging their numerical advantage, launched a swarm attack on Bai Hao, a relentless barrage of fists and feet. To maximize his damage output, Bai Hao largely ignored attacks to non-vital areas, letting them land on his body while his own fists kept striking back. However, with each punch, he was careful, holding back from delivering lethal blows.
For a time, the cell descended into pandemonium, filled with cries of pain interspersed with low grunts.
The grunts came from Bai Hao.
Ding Wu, leaning against a wall, showed no hurry to join the fray. He greedily inhaled his cigarette, exhaling plumes of gray smoke, his eyes calmly observing Bai Hao, occasionally glinting with sharp light.
One minute, two minutes...
The chaotic brawl in the cell lasted nearly five minutes before subsiding. Bai Hao stood panting heavily on one side, one fist raised defensively, the other wiping blood from his face. After the fierce struggle, he had barely managed to withstand the combined assault of eight men and successfully put six of them on the ground. But he had paid a steep price. His body had been struck multiple times; his head alone had taken three punches. Sweat and blood mingled on his cheeks, dripping from his chin. His clothes were torn in several places from over a dozen blows to his torso.
The two remaining opponents stared at Bai Hao with palpable fear. One was Zhang Dachong, his face smeared with blood and grime. He had been clever; after the initial punch, he had avoided further hits, first lying on the ground groaning for two minutes, then hiding behind others, contributing little. The other was a burly, powerfully built man who had been knocked down twice by Bai Hao and was now dotted with bloodstains. Compared to the others, his skills were somewhat better.
Zhang Dachong took a half-step back, casting a pleading glance at Boss Ding Wu, who was still leisurely smoking behind him. "Boss..." he whined pitifully.
Ding Wu swept his eyes over the six men lying groaning on the floor. He gave a light chuckle, his tone cold. "What's the matter? Your brothers are all down. Don't you think you should show some spirit?"
Before Zhang Dachong could reply, the burly man beside him charged forward.
Seeing the oncoming hulk, Bai Hao's eyes narrowed slightly. He shifted his feet and met the charge head-on. His left hand intercepted the incoming fist, while his right shot out, striking the man at the junction of his right shoulder and neck.
A muffled groan, and the burly man crumpled to the floor, instantly unconscious.
Bai Hao let out a heavy breath. In a one-on-one fight, this man was no match for him. Even if he and the fatty attacked together, Bai Hao could likely handle them with relative ease.
Witnessing the burly man's instantaneous defeat, Zhang Dachong's obese frame trembled with a cold shiver. He was now caught between a rock and a hard place. Ahead was the formidable Bai Hao; behind, the immovable Boss Ding Wu. Charging forward meant another beating. Retreating to cower would surely incur Ding Wu's wrath later, making his life miserable.
After a moment's calculation, Zhang Dachong made his decision. With a forced roar, he charged straight at Bai Hao.
A cold glint flashed in Bai Hao's eyes. He lashed out with a vicious kick aimed at the charging fatty. But in the next instant, he sensed danger sweeping toward him. The moment he moved, Ding Wu, who had been calmly observing from the rear, spat out his cigarette and flashed forward, closing in on Bai Hao.
Damn it!
Bai Hao's heart sank. He hadn't expected Ding Wu to choose this precise moment to strike. His kick was already committed; pulling back to defend was now too late.
Thud!
Bai Hao's foot connected squarely with Zhang Dachong's abdomen. But in the very next instant, he took Ding Wu's full-powered punch squarely on his body.
Zhang Dachong let out a pained groan, half-kneeling as he clutched his stomach.
Under the force of Ding Wu's powerful blow, Bai Hao was forced to stagger back several steps. Before he could steady himself, a foot swept toward him in a fierce arc.
In his frantic state, Bai Hao could only raise an arm to block.
Crack!Pain shot through his arm. Already off-balance, faced with Ding Wu's swift kick, his body was sent stumbling backward again.
Having landed two successful hits in succession, Ding Wu had no intention of giving Bai Hao a chance to recover. With a sharp cry, he pressed his advantage as Bai Hao retreated, his right fist shooting like a piston toward Bai Hao's face.
Bai Hao continued to stumble back. After the two consecutive blows, he was almost against the rear wall. Seeing Ding Wu's lightning-fast fist coming at him again, his still-unsteady heart sank further. He had barely withstood the first two attacks, but the window to react to this third strike was dangerously short. He had already faced Ding Wu before; the man's skill was formidable. The fight against Zhang Dachong and the others had drained much of Bai Hao's stamina, while Ding Wu had rested for nearly five minutes.
Nevertheless, Bai Hao strained with all his might to respond, transforming his left hand into a palm to shield his face.
Smack!
The fierce fist slammed into Bai Hao's palm with a crisp sound.
Ding Wu's punch was fast and brutal. With his underground boxing experience, he knew this blow packed serious force, and he was supremely confident in its impact.
The punch nearly dazed Bai Hao. Fortunately, his left palm had intercepted it, absorbing a significant portion of the force. A direct hit to the face would have been devastating—if not knocking him out, it would have certainly stunned him. Even so, Bai Hao was in bad shape. The punch's power was immense, impossible to fully dissipate in such a short time. His left palm, driven by the force of the blow, slammed into his own cheek. The residual shockwave jolted blood from his mouth, splattering onto his clothes.
Using the momentum from Ding Wu's punch, Bai Hao stumbled back several more steps, his back finally hitting the wall, which allowed him to steady himself at last.
Ding Wu's brow furrowed slightly. He had thought that final punch would end the fight, never expecting Bai Hao to deflect so much force with a simple palm block, barely neutralizing the attack. However, he wasn't worried. Though his three-hit combo hadn't finished Bai Hao, he now held an absolute advantage. All he needed was to press the attack to secure an easy victory.
Indeed, Ding Wu's strength was formidable. Compared to the battle-weary Bai Hao, he already held the upper hand. His three-strike combo, catching Bai Hao off-guard, had only widened that gap.
But Bai Hao had no intention of surrendering.
After the combo, Ding Wu only paused briefly before swiftly closing the distance again, his right fist launching a sharp hook.
Bai Hao's pupils contracted. Now braced against the wall, his body stable, he showed no panic at the incoming hook. With a sharp exhale, his right hand shot out like lightning. Using his wrist, he struck from the inside against Ding Wu's forearm, deflecting the punch's trajectory. Then, his hand顺势一抓, seizing Ding Wu's wrist.
Ding Wu's expression shifted, a look of gravity flashing in his eyes. Frankly, he hadn't anticipated Bai Hao's reaction to be so swift, almost instantaneous. But his own reflexes were equally sharp. His right fist immediately drove toward Bai Hao's body.
Bai Hao seemed prepared. The moment Ding Wu threw the punch, his left hand transformed into a palm, meeting the rapidly incoming fist.
Thud!
The fist struck the palm with a muffled sound.
Ding Wu felt as if his right fist had plunged into a sea of mud. The force behind his punch was rapidly dissipating. Inner shock gripped him—he had never encountered such a situation before.
Simultaneously, a faint smile appeared on Bai Hao's blood-streaked face. His right hand abruptly clenched, firmly gripping Ding Wu's right fist. Then, one foot planted firmly against the wall behind him and pushed off hard.
Thump!
The foot struck the wall, causing it to tremble slightly with a dull thud. Using the reactive force from the wall, Bai Hao propelled his entire body forward in a collision.
Crunch!
Bai Hao's forehead smashed squarely into Ding Wu's face.
Ding Wu felt a sharp, sour pain explode in his mouth and nose; his nose bridge seemed to collapse instantly. His heart plummeted. He never imagined Bai Hao would use his headas a weapon. By the time he realized it, it was too late. Even if he had known, there was little he could have done. At that moment, both his hands were restrained by Bai Hao; pulling back to defend in time was nearly impossible.
Bai Hao had decided on this head-butt the moment Ding Wu threw his right punch—a premeditated move. The unique fist technique he practiced granted him a special ability: force redirection. It was this ability that allowed his palm to swiftly dissipate the power of Ding Wu's punch, creating the prerequisite for the head-butt attack. And the force behind this head-butt was substantial. Only about half came from his own bodily strength; the other half was converted from the force of his kick against the wall. The combined impact force can being imagine.
Under the tremendous collision force, Ding Wu's body was immediately thrown backward out of control. Blood sprayed from his mouth and nose—clearly, Bai Hao's head-butt was no light blow.
Seizing the advantage, Bai Hao naturally pressed forward. His entire body slammed down, pinning Ding Wu to the ground. He hooked one leg over Ding Wu's neck while his hands maintained their iron grip on Ding Wu's wrists.
Pinned by the neck, Ding Wu's first instinct was to struggle. But with his hands immobilized and his strength slightly inferior to Bai Hao's, his resistance was futile.
Bai Hao gasped for ragged breaths, holding his opponent down with everything he had.
After a dozen seconds, Ding Wu's face, pressed by Bai Hao's shin, turned crimson. Struggling to breathe, he forced out a few choked words, "I... I... yield."
Hearing this, Bai Hao's expression relaxed slightly. He first removed his leg from Ding Wu's neck, then released his grip on the man's hands. Staggering slightly, he stood up, wiping the blood and grime from the corner of his mouth and his face. A faint, weary smile touched his lips.
Ding Wu lay sprawled on his back, gasping for air, blood still trickling from his nose and mouth. Inside, he laughed at himself mockingly. A victory he had been ninety percent sure of had been reversed by a single, simple move from his opponent. He had lost. All nine men in the cell had lost, defeated by a single individual.
Zhang Dachong, still half-kneeling, one hand clutching his aching abdomen, the other wiping blood from his mouth, stared dumbfounded, disbelief etched on his face as he gazed at Bai Hao standing defiantly less than three meters away. In the brief span of about thirty seconds, the seemingly invincible Boss Ding Wu of the detention center had also fallen.