Liu Yutong said no more, leaning back into her chair and closing her eyes to rest.
But her mind was racing, quickly calculating the possible scenarios that lay ahead.
Zhao Tianxing and his crew, backed into a corner, were trying to carve up the spoils while she was away. Though unexpected, it wasn’t entirely surprising.
They seemed to have forgotten one thing, though—Bright Pearl City wasn’t some lawless playground where a few gang bosses could do as they pleased.
The lucrative prize of Belon Plaza had too many eyes on it, and the final say on its development rights never belonged to these so-called "big brothers" who operated in the shadows.
Her sudden decision to reach out to Lin Muyang was a crucial move.
Lin Muyang’s father held immense influence, and any redevelopment project near Belon Plaza would inevitably have to go through him.
Only by securing his backing would there be any real chance of success.
From what she knew, in her past life, someone had successfully won over this very official and later rose to become the undisputed king of Bright Pearl City’s underworld.
As for how to win him over—the key lay with Lin Muyang.
Perhaps she didn’t even need to arrange a meeting. There was a good chance Lin Muyang would show up to watch the underground fights.
And if he appeared where he wasn’t supposed to be, she’d need to pay close attention to whoever was by his side.
......
On the outskirts of Bright Pearl City, in the old industrial district of East Harbor.
Once the heart of the city’s shipping and shipbuilding industry, the area had long since fallen into decay, abandoned by the tides of time.
Tonight’s underground fight was set to take place inside one of the largest abandoned dry docks.
The cavernous space inside could easily hold hundreds of people.
By now, a clearing had been made in the center, with a three-meter-high octagonal cage erected as the fighting ring.
Aside from the general spectator area on the ground floor, a makeshift VIP room had been set up on the second level, directly overlooking the cage below.
Inside, a few relatively comfortable sofas and coffee tables were arranged.
This was where Zhao Tianxing and the other underworld bosses, along with their specially invited guests, would watch the fights.
By around 8 PM, the dock was packed, buzzing with a rowdy, motley crowd.
Outside, the area was lined with cars and motorcycles of all kinds.
Why did these gangsters resort to underground fights to settle disputes over contested interests instead of finding other means?
Simply because they were still stuck in their old ways of thinking.
They believed that only a handful of factions posed any real threat to them. As long as those factions stayed out of it, no one else would dare challenge them.
With no competition, securing what they wanted would be a breeze.
But they overlooked one crucial fact.
To borrow an internet meme: "Times have changed, old man."
Up in the VIP room.
Zhao Tianxing, dressed in a traditional Tang suit, idly rolled a pair of polished walnuts in his hand as he leaned against the railing, gazing down at the noisy crowd and the cage with a smug grin.
The other bosses of Bright Pearl City lounged on the sofas, puffing away at their cigars.
"Lao Zhao, not bad—this place has plenty of space!"
"As long as you’re all satisfied. Things aren’t like the old days anymore. Back then, we could hold these in the city. Now we’ve got to find some out-of-the-way spot like this."
"Still, not bad. The important thing is that it’s got the right energy."
"Lao Zhao, you got the agreements ready?"
"Relax, all set. Just waiting for everyone to sign and seal them."
"But remember what we agreed—whoever takes that prize has to leave some scraps for the rest of us."
"Fine, no problem!"
With that, Zhao Tianxing, Liao Dapao, and the others signed and stamped the agreements.
Just as they were finishing up, Scarface arrived late, bringing Chu Yang and his men with him.
But when he stepped into the VIP room, the atmosphere turned awkward.
Neither Zhao Tianxing nor any of the other bosses so much as acknowledged the newly minted leader of the Righteous Union.
Not even a seat had been prepared for him.
They just sat there on their sofas, smoking cigars, whistling at the fights below, treating Scarface like thin air.
Scarface seethed inside. Even as a lowly underling, he’d been looked down on. As a lieutenant, same thing. And now, as boss? Still disrespected.
Was he really that easy to dismiss? Or did they all think Scarface was just some pushover?
If this kept up, he might as well go crying to his superiors!
After what felt like an eternity, Zhao Tianxing finally pretended to notice him.
"Oh! Scarface is here! Should’ve given us a heads-up!"
The others turned their heads at that.
"Well, if it isn’t Scarface. Made it to boss of the Righteous Union now, huh?"
"Scarface, gotta hand it to you—never thought you had it in you to take out Pan Xing."
"Wait, why’s there one less VIP seat? Lao Zhao, that’s not very considerate!"
"Yeah, the big boss of the Righteous Union shows up and has to stand? Not cool."
"......"
They took turns needling him, making it painfully clear they were mocking him.
Aside from looking down on Scarface—a former underling who’d clawed his way up—there was another reason: the Righteous Union had kept them under its thumb for far too long.
Now, after a series of internal upheavals, the Union was a shadow of its former self. Finally, they could gloat.
Zhao Tianxing slapped his forehead in exaggerated forgetfulness. "Ah, damn! My bad, totally my fault! Got so caught up in setting up the fights, I forgot we were short a seat."
"But hey, Scarface, can’t blame me, right? You’re the one who showed up late."
"Heard from my boys you rolled up in some beat-up sedan. Must’ve hit traffic, huh? Not like us—Mercedes or Beamers, never stuck in jams."
"HAHAHA—" The room erupted in laughter.
"Alright, alright, cut it out. Scarface just got the promotion—probably hasn’t had time to buy a proper ride yet."
Zhao Tianxing then turned to one of his lackeys.
"What’re you standing around for? Go grab a chair! Can’t have Scarface standing like some errand boy!"
The underling moved fast, dragging out a rickety wooden stool from a pile of junk in the corner—dusty, grimy, and clearly neglected—before plonking it unceremoniously by the VIP room entrance.
"Here you go, Scarface. Not the best seat, but better than standing, right?"
Zhao Tianxing waved him over enthusiastically. "Come on, take a seat! Fights are about to start—wouldn’t want you to miss the show."
Scarface stared at the stool, face burning with humiliation.
This was too much!
If he actually sat there, he might as well be a damn guard dog. Pure disrespect!
Just as Scarface was about to explode, Chu Yang—who had been standing quietly behind him—finally moved.
Without hesitation, he strode forward and, under the stunned gazes of the gathered bosses, seized one of the sofas. With a sudden surge of strength, he hoisted it effortlessly overhead.
Then, to the shock of everyone present, Chu Yang swung his arm and hurled the sofa straight down from the second-floor balcony.
Boom!
The impact shattered it into pieces upon hitting the ground.
Without pause, he repeated the act, tossing every last sofa over the edge—except for the one reserved seat originally prepared for Zhao Tianxing himself.
Once finished, Chu Yang turned to face the speechless crime lords, his expression unreadable. His voice was calm, almost casual, as he remarked:
"I think standing will make the competition more comfortable—better view too. Don’t you agree, gentlemen?"
