In the wasteland area of Xinhu, the wind blew through the ruins, whistling like a whimper, like the cries of countless souls who died in vain. The underground boxing ring was hidden in the basement of the collapsed World Financial Center. The thick steel door could not block the deafening roar inside. Low-quality alcohol and the smell of blood mixed together, becoming the cheapest stimulant in this wasteland.
"Bang!"
After a dull impact, a strong man over two meters tall hit the wire fence like a bag of rags. He twitched twice and then stopped moving. The cheers around the paddock instantly exploded. Some people smashed wine bottles on the ground, some cursed at the top of their lungs, and some people rushed to the betting table with red eyes to cash in their chips.
Cheng Chen shook his right hand, and the skin on his knuckles was scratched and bleeding. He is not particularly tall, only about 1.75 Meters tall. His muscular body, which he has developed from years of walking around on the streets, is not exaggerated, but every inch of him is full of explosive power. The broken hair in front of his forehead was wet with sweat and stuck to his plump forehead. There was an unsparing wildness in his eyes, as well as a trace of deeply hidden vigilance.
