pjbooks Chapter 106 Pile~ Pile~ Pile~ Ta-ta-ta
Chapter 106 Pile~ Pile~ Pile~ Ta-ta-ta
Chapter 106 Pile~ Pile~ Pile~ Ta-ta-ta
Unfortunately, the severe abdominal pain and swelling made it difficult for her to even stand up.
Someone strode forward, showing no mercy, and slammed her head against the ground, pinning her down.
But this seemingly brutal action did not actually cause any harm.
"Stop struggling, girl, you're no match for me. Just slam your fist on the floor."
Ma Jieke knew very well that she was no longer capable of resisting, so she wouldn't do what Cui Donghao did—intentionally injuring her opponent for the sake of the performance, such as breaking their joints or shattering their jaw.
That wasn't fighting; it was intentional injury, merely to satisfy the perverted psychology of a certain segment of the audience. That was all.
Donya was surprised because she had a premonition of what would happen next.
After all, this wasn't a legitimate competition; it was just an illegal underground fight.
Therefore, boxers are neither covered by commercial insurance nor protected by complicated rules.
From the club's perspective, they naturally hope the match is as intense as possible, ideally with blood splattering in the ring, so that the audience feels they got their money's worth.
And the audience is the same. Everyone comes here to find excitement. If you play too conservatively, why should I watch you? I'd rather go watch the main event. Isn't that more appealing?
Given this background and objective reality, fighters like Choi Dong-ho emerged, using cruelty and bloodshed as their selling point, and gained a large number of fans and viewers.
The club made money, and the audience enjoyed themselves, but the boxers suffered.
Lacking medical insurance and unable to afford exorbitant medical bills, he was unable to return to the boxing ring to continue fighting after his body was damaged.
So what can these people do? Those with no ambition become homeless, while those who still want to have some fun become henchmen for gangs.
Since they're all consumables anyway, if their average lifespan exceeds 5 years, that's considered a miracle.
After hearing Majeke's reminder, Donya whispered a thank you and executed Tap0ut. (She slapped the ground in defeat)
The bell rang, and the game ended.
"How are you feeling? Should you go to the hospital for a check-up?"
After confirming the end of the match, Ma Jie asked with a hint of guilt, after all, those who know, know what that place is like.
But this is a boxing ring; there's no room for sentimentality. If you go easy on someone, you'll end up lying on the ground.
"It's alright." Donya took two deep breaths and forced a smile. "My resilience is stronger than you think. You might not believe it, but I once fought an adult brown bear with a dagger."
Damn... a dagger against a bear? Are you even human? That thing has thick skin and flesh. If you don't manage to stab its eyes and throat, it probably won't even bleed.
Ma Jieke couldn't help but give a thumbs up and silently applaud.
"By the way, Jack, let's exchange contact information after we get off the stage. I'd like to ask you a few questions about combat. Is that a convenient time for you?"
Donya's biggest question right now is that her headbutt didn't cause any damage, which she just can't figure out no matter how she thinks about it.
"OK, no problem, I'll contact you after the show." Of course, you shouldn't refuse any girl who comes your way.
To be honest, this foreign woman is really something else; she inspires a strong desire to conquer.
After the referee announced the winner, Ma Jie returned to the preparation area.
"My god, that Russian girl is really fierce. If I were to go up against her, I'm afraid I'd get sat on and killed."
Max, holding a massage gun, helped him relax his muscles while expressing his lingering fear.
Jimmy chuckled to himself, "That's a real Valkyrie. You have no chance at all."
"What are you saying, you brat?" A slap landed on the back of his head. "Don't you have any eyes, you coconut water?"
"Oh." Jimmy quickly took out the coconut water and unscrewed the cap. Ma Jie took it and drank it in small sips to quickly replenish his water and electrolytes.
We still have two more matches to play, with a ten-minute break in between. The core skills haven't been triggered yet, and the [Explosive Shield] cooldown will end before we go on stage.
Taking advantage of this break, Ma Jieke chose to close his eyes and rest. After all, it was impossible for his physical strength to recover much in a short time, but he had to keep his mind calm.
According to the rules, the matches will become increasingly difficult. From a strategic point of view, it is definitely better to trigger skills as late as possible, especially the core combat skill [Fake Boxer], which should ideally be triggered in the very late game.
In the commentary booth, Kevin said casually, "Old man, while everyone's in the bathroom, let me give you a brief review of this game."
"OK." Quilin continued, "It's obvious that Donya is no less physically strong than Po, but her technique is a bit lacking. Po had a chance to end the match, but he chose to hold back. He thought it was cool to do so and would get screams from the audience. But for a boxer, this is a big no-no. It can easily turn a favorable situation into a bad one."
"As everyone saw later, A Bao suffered a great loss because of this, and was almost killed by Donya."
"As a senior, I would like to give him a piece of advice: there are many ways to respect your opponent, but the most commendable one is to do everything possible to kill the game. I hope he can take this to heart."
"Okay, thank you for your insightful commentary, Quillin Nelson." After he finished speaking, Kevin raised his voice noticeably: "I'll keep the identity of the next contestant a secret for now, but I can reveal that he won the Rookie of the Year title two years ago, and then entered the Street Fighter Challenger Tournament, where he rose all the way to the Platinum rank."
"Although our Abao has achieved a four-game winning streak and remains undefeated, in my opinion, and just in my opinion, my chances of winning against him are probably no more than 20%."
"Alright, enough chit-chat, please welcome our second challenger tonight, the Black Prince from India—Singh Bungis!"
Upon hearing the name, Ma Jieke frowned slightly.
He was quite familiar with India, especially the caste system, having previously watched educational videos about it.
Singh is a commonly used name in common parlance, meaning lion, and belongs to a higher caste group, but some lower caste people also use it.
As for bangis, in the Hindi context, it means "to clean the toilet".
This is precisely the essence of the racial system; in addition to "toilet cleaning," there are also surnames such as garbage collector, leatherworker, shepherd, butcher, and potter.
In other words, if you are of a lower caste, your surname will be determined by what your family does from birth, and you will be instilled with the idea that you are inferior from a young age.
As for the high castes, those are awesome.
Brahmins are generally known as protectors, scholars, priests, learned individuals, ritual experts, etc., and represent divine authority.
The Kshatriya clan, including royalty, rulers, nobles, landowners, and military leaders, represented the ruling class.
The third-ranked Vaishyas are surnamed wealthy merchants, traders, bankers, etc., representing wealth and trade.
The last group, the Shudras, are associated with planters, gatherers, brewers, boatmen, and fishermen, representing agriculture and labor.
His opponent, Singh Bungis, did not even belong to the four castes, but to the fifth caste, known as the untouchables or Dalits (the oppressed).
Dalits have no civil rights, no social status, and are prohibited from entering temples and schools. They make up about 16.2% of the total population, numbering as many as 1.67 million.
These people are not considered ordinary citizens in India and can only do the dirtiest and most tiring jobs such as shoveling latrines, cleaning sewers, and slaughtering chickens and sheep. According to ancient Indian tradition, people of all castes cannot have contact with Dalits or accept things they have used, so as not to be defiled.
In some traditional and conservative rural areas of India, you will see people walking carefully, avoiding others, because they do not want their shadows to fall on passersby.
Even worse, some would carry brooms with them, sweeping away their footprints as they walked to avoid leaving filth on other people's land. Although Mahatma Gandhi called them "sons of God," the reality was that as long as you didn't leave the country, you would never have a chance to rise above others.
Ma Jie once read a report about a Dalit girl who went to a village to fetch water because she was thirsty. A group of high-caste men grabbed her by the hair, slapped her, and beat her with sticks.
The girl didn't dare fight back from beginning to end, and she didn't dare call the police afterwards either, so the matter was left unresolved.
With this in mind, Ma Jieke became extremely focused.
After all, this guy dared to come all the way to America and survive in the underground fighting scene for so long. If he didn't have some ruthless skills and unique abilities, he would have been carried off long ago.
The process is exactly the same as before: first, set up the lighting, then play the exclusive background music, highlighting an industrialized process.
Several Indian girls in saris naturally appeared beside Prince Singh, surrounding him as he entered the octagon.
The catchy, brainwashing misheard lyrics started playing again, giving people a strange sense of amusement.
"Pile up~ pile up~ pile up~ clatter clatter..."
"Pile up~ pile up~ pile up~ da da da..."
"It's so cold, I'm playing in the mud in Northeast China."
"Although Northeast China isn't very big, I don't have a home in Dalian."
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Ma Jie almost burst out laughing; that was just too perfect pronunciation!
However, unlike when Donya appeared earlier, the audience mostly sat in their seats, completely unable to understand what was so good about the song. Some even frowned and covered their ears.
The sound engineer noticed that the sound quality was indeed poor, so he forcibly pressed the pause button before the music finished playing. It seems there won't be any chicken legs for tonight's midnight snack.
"Pile up~ pile up~ pile up~ clatter clatter..."
The female host, microphone in hand, reappeared on stage with her signature gait, clumsily imitating the singing from before, eliciting laughter from the entire audience.
The same lyrics, played on the original song, went unheard, but her copying of it had an excellent effect, saving the day.
This club is absolutely brimming with talent.
"Haha, I'm almost brainwashed. It feels like a million men are shouting in my ears."
The female host grumbled, then looked at Singh Bungis: "Alright, time is precious, let's get down to business. Your Highness, do you have anything to say to your opponent before the match?"
"An opponent?" Singh looked disdainful. "If this kind of trash can be called an opponent, then the Old Silver Club is really too low-class. I've been fighting here for more than two years and I've never seen a Chinese person win five games in a row. That's absolutely impossible."
"On a side note, although I have left my country, as far as I know, the gap between China and India is still quite large. We are far ahead of China in many fields."
"And combat is one of them. The Kalalipayat martial arts I practice have a history of over 3000 years. For that alone, no one can defeat me."