Courtyard House: Drunk and tipsy, the whole courtyard exposed at the start.

Little did they know that Zhang Dabiao's physique wasn't something he trained for, but rather a freakish constitution brought about by his time travel.

Yang Weihong had served in the army and was considered to be in top physical condition, roughly equivalent to 1.5 Sha Zhu.

But Zhang Dabiao is the fusion of two people's souls and bodies, his physique is equivalent to two silly pillars that have taken a detour.

Recovery ability and resilience are completely different in the same respect.

Time passed second by second.

In the fifth minute, the situation on the field underwent a subtle change.

Yang Weihong's breathing became erratic.

His chest heaved violently as he gasped for breath.

The veins on his arms were bulging, and sweat mixed with blood dripped down.

His combination punches became slower and weaker.

The worst part was that he found his hands were visibly trembling.

It wasn't because I was scared, it was because I really couldn't fight anymore.

The skin on my knuckles was completely broken, and the back of my hand was swollen.

He punched Zhang Dabiao ten times, but Zhang Dabiao remained as steady as a mountain, while his own hand bones were shaken and ached.

Forces act in pairs.

The reaction force traveled from his fist to his arm, causing his muscles to twitch.

But as soon as he took five punches from Zhang Dabiao, his internal organs would churn.

A deep sense of powerlessness rose in Yang Weihong's heart.

What is this son of a bitch made of?

Zhang Dabiao remained standing in the same spot.

His face was covered in bruises, and blood was still flowing from the corner of his mouth, but his feet never left that area.

He looked at Yang Weihong, who was panting heavily, and his eyes lit up.

He was constantly on the defensive, not that he couldn't fight back. He occasionally managed to retaliate, but he couldn't unleash 100% of his strength, so the damage was limited.

Instead, they are waiting.

Wait until Yang Weihong is exhausted, then wait for an opportunity to strike a fatal blow.

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Yang Weihong's offensive finally came to a standstill.

His hands were in excruciating pain. He shook them, gasped for breath, and sweat stung his eyes.

Zhang Dabiao's expression changed completely at that moment.

His previous lazy and carefree attitude has vanished.

Instead, it was replaced by a highly aggressive sense of oppression.

It was a hunter lurking in the grass, finally revealing its fangs.

Mu Wanqing, standing outside the arena, immediately noticed Zhang Dabiao's change.

She knew Zhang Dabiao all too well.

Every time Zhang Dabiao showed this expression, it meant he was about to get serious.

Mu Wanqing covered her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes.

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Yang Weihong gritted her teeth and straightened up.

He knew in his heart that he had reached his physical limit, and if he dragged it out any longer, he would surely lose.

We must act swiftly and decisively.

Yang Weihong roared and used the last bit of strength in his body to send his right fist flying straight for Zhang Dabiao's face.

This punch was devoid of any fancy moves; it was a desperate, all-out effort.

However, he was a little exhausted, which made his punches slightly unsteady.

Zhang Dabiao did not dodge.

This was the moment he had been waiting for.

He lowered his body slightly to make sure he could dodge the punch, then stomped his left foot forward and landed heavily on the ground.

"boom!"

The ground beneath the bridge arch shook slightly.

Zhang Dabiao quickly turned his body to the side, exerting force from his waist, transmitting power from the soles of his feet to his waist, and then down his spine to his right shoulder.

Blow out your breath, exert your strength.

"snort!"

Zhang Dabiao exhaled a rough breath from his nostrils.

With immense force, his right shoulder slammed into Yang Weihong's chest.

Bajiquan, Tieshan Kao.

"Bang—"

A deafening thud.

The sound of bones colliding reached the ears of everyone present clearly.

Yang Weihong was sent flying backwards.

Both feet left the ground, tracing an arc in the air.

It flew five or six meters away, directly over the circle drawn with white lime.

His back slammed heavily onto the sandy ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The audience was silent.

There was not a sound.

Everyone was so shocked by the scene that they were speechless.

On the side of the children of the compound, several girls covered their eyes in fright.

Yang Yibai stood there, stunned, her mind buzzing.

Several seconds passed.

Yang Weihong lay on the ground, her body convulsing violently.

He turned his head to the side and, with a "whoosh," spat out a mouthful of sour water mixed with blood and foam.

The referee stood frozen in place, whistle in hand, unsure whether he should blow the whistle to end the game.

According to the previously established rules, going outside the circle results in a loss.

Yang Weihong has already lost.

But just as the referee was about to raise his hand to announce Zhang Dabiao's victory.

Yang Weihong supported herself on the ground with both hands and shakily got up.

His chest heaved violently, each breath accompanied by a bellowing roar.

His face was covered in blood, and his white tank top was stained red.

He stared intently at Zhang Dabiao, his voice terribly hoarse.

"I haven't lost yet... let's go again!"

Yang Yibai finally reacted and let out a piercing scream.

"Brother! You're crazy! You're spitting blood! Stop hitting him!"

She tried to rush into the arena, but Zhao Weiguo held her back tightly.

On the other side of the alleyway kids, Sha Zhu suddenly stood up and slapped his thigh hard.

"That's what you call a real man! Da Biao, get him! Don't hold back!"

Chief Chen stood next to the police car, his brows furrowed, and lit a cigarette.

"These two kids really don't value their lives."

The referee turned to look at Zhang Dabiao, his face full of questions.

Zhang Dabiao stood in the center of the circle, shaking his slightly numb right shoulder.

He looked at Yang Weihong, who was teetering on the brink of collapse but still full of fighting spirit, and nodded slightly.

"Let him come."

A good beating can prevent a hundred more; this matter isn't over until he's completely subdued.

Yang Weihong wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, staggered to his feet, and his white undershirt was now completely stained dark red. He gasped for breath, each breath accompanied by a wheezing roar like a broken bellows.

There were no fancy opening moves, nor any unnecessary probing.

"Again!"

He suddenly pushed off with his feet, and like a derailed locomotive, he crashed straight into Zhang Dabiao.

Zhang Dabiao stood still, without dodging. He spat out a mouthful of blood, stomped his left foot forward heavily, lowered his right shoulder, and slammed into Yang Weihong.

At this moment, both of them had lost all their skills and were left with only the most primitive and savage struggle.

"Bang!"

Shoulder to shoulder.

The sound was even more muffled than the previous punches and kicks.

The enormous force of the impact sent Yang Weihong staggering back three to five meters, nearly causing him to fall flat on his backside. He turned his head and spat out another mouthful of blood, but gritted his teeth and managed to regain his footing.

"Again!" Yang Weihong roared, her eyes filled with madness.

Zhang Dabiao was also in bad shape. His internal organs were churning violently, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth again. He took two or three meters back to dissipate the force, raised his hand to wipe his chin, and grinned.

"Again!"

As soon as they finished speaking, the two charged at each other again.

There was no defense, no dodging.

The second collision.

The two bodies crashed together violently.

The immense impact caused both of them to lose their balance simultaneously, flying backward and crashing heavily onto the gravel-covered ground.

The audience was silent.

It's too bloody, too brutal, and too exciting!