“#￥￥%#￥……” The Vietnamese man tried with all his might but couldn’t make a sound, only feeling his throat bone bending inch by inch, all the blood in his body rushing to his head, his bloodshot eyes staring fixedly at Logan Clark——

　　In that instant, the sluggish and dull facade fell away from the young man, revealing a completely opposite side deep within his soul.

　　His gaze seemed to have changed into someone else’s entirely. If the Vietnamese man had been in his right mind, he would have felt a trace of fear.

　　But unfortunately, no one could witness this scene at that moment.

　　“Kill him! Good job!” “Hit hit hit! Hit hit hit!” “Beat him to death! Beat him to death!”

　　……

　　The cheers from all directions rose higher and higher, gradually turning into a twisted, distorted background noise. Logan Clark stared at the Vietnamese man’s eyes, now densely laced with blood vessels, and saw his purplish lips open and close desperately a few times, but no sound came out.

　　But he understood—it was a Vietnamese curse word.

　　A pronunciation he had heard many times before, very familiar.

　　In fact, nothing had changed over all these years, whether in Myanmar, Chiang Rai, or after returning home, no matter whom he served or risked his life for; in the end, he was just repeating the same things over and over.

　　Logan Clark felt a moment of daze, his elbow instinctively using the force he was most familiar with. The next second, there was a series of cracking sounds as the throat bone was crushed, the Vietnamese man’s eyes bulged, and two jets of blood suddenly spurted from his mouth and nose!

　　Ding ding ding ding ding!

　　The loud clang of the bell snapped Logan Clark back to his senses, and he immediately let go of the Vietnamese man. Fortunately, he hadn’t gone all the way; the latter staggered to his knees, rolling and coughing violently while vomiting uncontrollably. The bar’s emergency staff, already on standby, rushed onto the ring with a stretcher.

　　The referee grabbed Logan Clark’s hand and raised it high, shouting something hoarsely, but Logan Clark couldn’t make it out. The atmosphere around was reaching a fever pitch—those who won money were frenzied with excitement, those who lost money grabbed anything they could throw and hurled it with all their might, shrill curses like “Die, Vietnamese!” and “Monkey, go back where you came from!” mixed with the cheers, everyone jumping and yelling, almost deranged.

　　Logan Clark closed his eyes.

　　He withdrew his hand and walked toward the back of the ring, catching a glimpse of the crowd out of the corner of his eye, then suddenly stopped.

　　——Not far from the stage, a young man in his twenties or thirties sat in the audience, wearing a dark gray shirt, black dress pants, and leather shoes. From his attire to his demeanor, he was completely out of place with the surroundings. The multicolored flashing lights reflected in his eyes, making them shine brilliantly, and he just sat there, watching Logan Clark with a smile and applauding.

　　Logan Clark’s pupils narrowed slightly.

　　At that moment, a sudden movement came from behind.

　　At some point, the Vietnamese man had grabbed a piece of broken bottle from below the stage, broken free from the emergency staff, his eyes bloodshot, and charged straight at Logan Clark!

　　In the chaos fueled by alcohol and blood, no one noticed the anomaly right away, not even the nearest referee. The Vietnamese man, clutching the sharp glass shard, lunged at Logan Clark’s back!

　　Whoosh!

　　Logan Clark spun around abruptly, the glinting shard grazing the back of his T-shirt, silently slicing the fabric open.

　　At the same moment, he grabbed the Vietnamese man by the back of the neck, swept his leg at the opponent’s ankle, and with a single move made him lose balance, sending his whole body crashing forward, face-first toward the sharp corner of the ring post!

　　The whole world faded away; in the Vietnamese man’s eyes, there was only the tip of the post, rushing closer in his pinprick-sized pupils. He heard the Grim Reaper cackling as he swung his scythe—

　　But then, there was only a loud smack!!

　　The Vietnamese man’s vision went black, pain exploded, and his momentum stopped abruptly; he saw Logan Clark’s palm cushioning his eye, forcibly lifting his upper body, the back of his hand barely half an inch from the tip of the ring post!

　　With a loud crash, Logan Clark flung him aside. The Vietnamese man fell flat on his back, and was immediately swarmed by security and emergency staff, who carried him away in a flurry.

　　“@￥#@#￥￥%……” The Vietnamese man’s master jumped onto the stage, bowing and saying something loudly, which sounded like a plea for mercy and thanks. But Logan Clark just looked at him, stood quietly for a moment, then turned and leapt off the ring.

　　In the distance, the well-dressed young man stood up, but this time Logan Clark didn’t look at anyone, heading straight back to the backstage area.

　　“Here, thirty thousand,” three stacks of bills were slapped down in front of him, followed by a heavy paper bag thudding onto the table—the sound alone told how much it weighed. Fatty grinned so wide his eyes disappeared: “This is the agreed cut, and I bumped it up to twenty percent for you, brother. How about it? I knew our Mr. Clark would definitely take down that Vietnamese monkey, right? Right?”

　　The staff around all chimed in, showering him with compliments.

　　“You shouldn’t keep to yourself so much, come out and fight a few more matches, make more while you can, huh?” Fatty squeezed himself down next to Logan Clark, earnestly persuading him: “Next time you come, you should be the house, or we can go into business together. I think none of the fight clubs on this little Yongli Street are worth much—our sights should be set on all of Jin Hai, even North China…”

　　Logan Clark tied his shoelaces, stood up, and patted Fatty on the shoulder.

　　“Huh?” Fatty was caught off guard by the gesture.

　　“Don’t call me out for anything under two hundred thousand from now on.”

　　Logan Clark kept his head down. As Fatty stared at him, speechless, he picked up the money bag, wrapped it in his jacket, tucked it under his arm, and slipped out the back door of the bar.