In America, my cousin, Supergirl Kara...

After climbing the stairs for nearly six or seven minutes, we finally reached the underground area.

The red-lacquered iron gate in the center was wide open, and several people walked in.

The room was suddenly brightened, and it looked like a players' lounge. A metal cabinet with its doors wide open leaned against the wall, and a flat-screen TV was playing extremely explicit pornographic videos in the corner.

In the very center was an iron table with lubricant, balloons, and several syringes on it.

Two tattooed contestants lay on the sofa next to them, while a naked Jamaican girl straddled their waists, her body undulating, making the whole scene look more like a chicken coop.

Quesser's face darkened. He stepped forward and kicked the girl off the boxer, while another person tumbled off the sofa in a panic, clutching his clothes and huddling in a corner.

"You damn bastard, still thinking about sex at a time like this!" Quese grabbed the fighter's filthy braid and kept punching his stomach. "If you lose in the ring, I'll skin you alive."

The boxer was curled up like a fried shrimp, begging for mercy, "Boss Queser, I guarantee we can win! This time it's just some Indian and Korean trash, we can beat them with our eyes closed!"

"Hmph, you better pray you didn't turn out like a coward." Quess slapped them twice more, angrily throwing them aside and roaring at the two trembling women on the ground, "Damn bitches, get the hell out of here!"

The two girls felt as if they had been granted a pardon, picked up their clothes, and scrambled out the door.

No wonder Queser was so eager to find someone to fight in underground boxing matches. These two unreliable guys probably came here to make a living off drugs because they didn't have the money. Li Xiao glanced at them quickly and saw that they had no less than twenty needle marks on their arms and looked like they had indulged in excessive sex. It made people doubt their level of skill.

"Haha, Connor, please excuse the embarrassment. These good-for-nothings, not one of them is easy to deal with." Queser smoothed his disheveled hair, and the underling next to him took out a tissue to wipe it clean. Queser sat down and snapped his fingers, and a member next to him took out some paper from his bag and handed it to him.

"Sit down," Queser patted the empty seat next to him. Looking at the few white marks on it, Li Xiao was a little disgusted and pulled up a folding chair to sit down.

Quesser didn't say anything. He pushed the stack of papers in front of Li Xiao and took out a pen from his pocket and placed it on top of them.

"Conor, I won't stand on ceremony. Basically, you fight for me, and I'll help you earn US dollars. It's fair. You'd better put on a good show in today's main event. Watch this."

Li Xiao picked up the papers on the table and carefully examined them. It was a contract with very standard English and a seal.

The gist of the agreement is that Conor Kenway will fight under the name of the Cripples Gang, with a minimum appearance fee of $800 per match. The match will be based on betting profits, with an additional 0.8% commission for each win. If he wins three consecutive matches, the commission will increase to 1%. He will be responsible for his own medical expenses. After signing the contract, the player can only terminate the contract without liability after playing 30 matches; otherwise, he will have to pay a penalty of $30.

The match has no rules, no scoring, and no weight classes. The two boxers fight bare-knuckle. If they are lucky, they will encounter someone shorter than themselves and have an easier time winning. If they are unlucky, they may encounter a muscular behemoth weighing more than 200 pounds.

In short, it is full of uncertainty.

Good heavens, if an ordinary person signed this treaty, they would definitely be brutally exploited and their marrow sucked dry. After thirty rounds, they would be crippled if not dead.

"Ten percent?" Li Xiao put down the contract. "Isn't that a bit too low? After all, I'm risking my life for this."

"That's how Connors' market price is." Quese crossed his legs, his leather shoes gleaming. "Chicago and Los Angeles are even lower. If you don't have the strength, you can't even hold onto the courts. There's also the annual cut on the venue fees. Seattle's starting point is already quite high at 10%. How about this, if you can win five games, I'll raise it to 1.1."

"I want 20%." Li Xiao was too lazy to argue with him any longer. "As long as the stakes are high enough, you won't lose out."

"Heh heh kid," Quese almost laughed in exasperation. "Do you think this is Pike Place Market? A place where you can haggle? I've put up with you the whole way here."

As soon as he finished speaking, several gang members around him touched their lower backs, ready to fire wildly at Queser's command.

"The penalty clause needs to be changed." Li Xiao leaned back in his folding chair and started the conversation. "If we win all 15 games, you'll give me an extra $15; if we lose even one game, I'll pay you three times the penalty."

The technical skill required for underground boxing is actually not high; it mainly relies on ruthlessness and various underhanded tactics. His reaction speed is just right to avoid these. It's impossible for someone to illegally pull out a gun in the first match, which is why Li Xiao dared to make such a boast.

This kid has gone mad. Queser's eyelids twitched. No one has ever achieved a perfect 15-game winning streak. The highest record is only five consecutive wins, and the last time he won, most of his face was cut off. According to this kid, it would be comfortable for him to make $90 without lifting a finger. Even if he gets 2%, he would have to be capable of taking it.

Thinking of this, Quesser's eyes lit up, and a smile spread across his face: "Haha, Connor, it's a deal, 2% or 2%... Ah, what can I do, I admire you." Quesser stubbed out his cigar. "Of course, if you can't afford the penalty for breach of contract, don't blame me for sending you to sell your ass."

Li Xiao smiled coldly to himself, regretting that he was definitely not going to be dragged into being a gigolo.

Quesser waved his hand, and his henchman went to the next room. The sound of a printer came from inside, and a moment later a new contract was placed on the table.

After checking and confirming there were no problems, Li Xiao removed the pen cap and signed his pseudonym.

"Let's go, I'll take you to familiarize yourself with the venue first. These two idiots will be on stage soon." Quese turned and walked towards the other door. The two contestants glanced at Li Xiao with a slightly provocative look.

As Li Xiao walked through a narrow passageway, the peeling paint on the walls around him inevitably covered his arms in dust.

Posters of Tyson and Ali were pinned to the wall at the end of the corridor, along with some odds tables. A faint commotion could be heard as the Crippled Gang members pushed open the door at the end of the corridor.

The entire underground boxing arena suddenly appeared before us. The arena was about the size of two football fields, with several high-brightness spotlights shining on the central steel octagonal cage.

Li Xiao thought it would be like those makeshift troupes with just a haystack around the ring, but to his surprise, it was surprisingly professional, complete with a ring, audience seating, and a large screen – all the proper boxing facilities one would expect.

The upper auditorium is mainly furnished with leather sofas and mahogany seats, and is mostly occupied by wealthy people in suits and ties, including women in elegant long dresses. The entire second floor is separated from the outside world by bulletproof glass.

The audience seats below were long rows of iron chairs, occupied by white, Latino, black, and a few scattered Asian faces, all clutching beer and banknotes, roaring as they watched the fight between the two burly men, one black and one white, inside the octagon.

[Child of Krypton, you have entered the arena jointly created by the Penguin Gang, the Court of Owls, and the Masked Association. Blood and screams are the eternal themes here.]

No tasks have been triggered at the moment.

They really were all villains. Li Xiao followed Quesai and found an empty seat to sit down.