Just as everyone was still immersed in the shock brought by that earth-shattering slap, Ji Yu made a new move in the ring.
Like a moving hill, he strode toward Hank, who was slumped at the edge of the ring, his fate unknown.
This sudden action scared the referee half to death; he thought the Hell Giant was going to take the opportunity to finish him off.
Yet, he didn't dare to make any move to stop him.
However, Ji Yu did not make any aggressive moves. He stopped beside Hank, bent his massive body, and poked the other man with a finger, as if confirming something.
Seeing that the other party still didn't move, he couldn't help but look down at the large hand that had just delivered the slap, carefully examining his palm.
Then, he raised his head, looked toward the second floor where Liu Yutong was, and scratched his head with an honest and simple-minded expression.
"Miss, it looks like he's seeing his great-grandmother. Maybe she wanted to have a chat with him, and it's taking a bit long..."
Liu Yutong: "..."
Yun Cheng: "..."
Chu Yang: "..."
Yun Cheng silently turned his head away, the corner of his mouth twitching wildly. This guy... was just too much.
Chu Yang looked down at Ji Yu, who looked incredibly intimidating yet inexplicably goofy, and couldn't help but quip, "Well, if anyone ever says Ji Yu is just dumb again, I'll be the first to fight them! This bro clearly put all his damn talent points into strength and defense!"
While the two of them bantered back and forth, the audience below finally recovered from the absolute shock of that slap.
"Hank must weigh at least a hundred and fifty, maybe even two hundred kilograms, right? And he just got slapped flying like that? How much force was that?"
"At least five hundred pounds! No, eight hundred! Maybe even more!"
"The Hell Giant is terrifying! From now on, anyone who dares to mess with this group of Dragon Country people will have to think about the Hell Giant's slap!"
"What is the background of this Eastern woman? First the Black and White Twin Demons, and now the Hell Giant. Are all Dragon Country people this ferocious? It feels so surreal!"
"I heard this group of Dragon Country people belongs to an extremely powerful major gang over there. It's normal for them to be a bit fierce."
"That Dragon Country woman is absolutely the gang queen of Dragon Country!"
"Rossi lost both rounds. He's totally finished now!"
"..."
On the second floor, several elders of the Corraro family looked at each other, their eyes full of shock.
Antonio's hand holding his wine glass trembled slightly, not even noticing the spilled wine. He looked at another elder beside him and asked, "Carl, have you ever seen a human like this?"
Carl Corraro, an early professional boxer in the family, also shook his head with a solemn expression at this moment: "I've boxed for nearly twenty years. The tallest and strongest guy I've ever seen was a Russian giant named Vasily, who was two meters and nine centimeters tall. But compared to the Hell Giant down there, he falls short. Especially the Hell Giant's muscle density and explosive power—it's just too strong!"
"For such a terrifying giant to appear among Easterners is extremely rare, perhaps even unheard of."
"It seems we can't underestimate Easterners anymore, especially those from Dragon Country."
Antonio looked in the direction of Liu Yutong. "This Eastern girl and these subordinates of hers are not ordinary gang members. I heard Jesse say they are called the Myriad Dragon Society. I'm really curious now about how strong the overall strength of the Myriad Dragon Society actually is, and whether they can compare to our Mafia."
"They probably can't compare. You have to remember that our family is just a branch of the Mafia."
"Regardless, Jesse has good luck to have found such a powerful backer."
"Then Rossi..." Carl hesitated to speak.
Antonio sneered, "He chose this himself. If he had admitted defeat earlier, he might have been able to make a graceful exit. But now, he has no chance."
Everyone followed his gaze to the VIP box where Rossi was.
At this moment, Rossi Corraro's entire face had twisted and contorted to the extreme.
"Impossible! How could Hank lose? How could he possibly lose!"
He turned abruptly and looked at Miles beside him, whose expression was equally gloomy. "Miles, did you see that? This Dragon Country monster must have used some cheating methods! This match is unfair!"
Miles was also feeling frustrated and distracted at this moment.
He was originally invited by Rossi to support him. If Rossi could successfully win the match, the Hells Angels Motorcycle Club would be able to sign an alliance agreement with the Corraro family, which represented the Mafia in San Francisco.
Instead, they stumbled twice in a row at the hands of an Eastern girl.
Not only did they not gain a single benefit, but they also lost Iron Fist, a capable fighter, as well as a large sum of money in vain. It was an absolute disaster!
But compared to Rossi, who was about to go crazy, Miles still retained the last trace of a gang boss's calmness.
"Rossi, calm down. A loss is a loss. So many people here watched it happen, and you set the rules yourselves. What's the point of saying all this now?"
"Calm down? How do you expect me to calm down?"
Rossi suddenly flew into a rage, grabbing Miles by the collar and saying hysterically, "Do you know what losing this round means for me? It's thirty million dollars in total! I couldn't pay it off even if I went completely bankrupt! And there's the control of the family. Now that Jesse has such strong outside help, will he leave me any way out in the future? I'll be crushed under his foot like a stink bug!"
Miles's face darkened. "Let go! Rossi, this is your own problem!"
"Trying to pass the buck, huh?"
Rossi suddenly let out a sinister laugh. "Miles, don't forget, you were the one who suggested the two-on-two in the first place. Now that we've lost, you want to wash your hands of it?"
Miles frowned. "What do you want?"
A flash of madness crossed Rossi's eyes. "It's very simple. We must get back all the money we lost. Let's join forces and take them out right now!"
Hearing this, Miles furrowed his brows even tighter. A trace of impatience and regret flashed through his eyes—regret that he shouldn't have easily trusted Rossi's nonsense and gotten involved in this family feud.
He looked at the only two remaining subordinates behind him, then looked at the surrounding situation, realizing that he was at an absolute disadvantage here.
Aside from those neutral gang members, Jesse and Rossi, these two guys from the Corraro family, had each brought dozens of lackeys.
Not to mention that Dragon Country girl, who had also brought twenty men in black. The strength of three of them was obvious to everyone present—they were absolutely terrifying. The other men in black probably weren't weak either.
Gang-on-gang violence and reneging on debts leading to shootouts were common occurrences, but that also depended on the timing and strength.
Now was clearly not the time for a head-on clash.
So no matter how much his heart ached for the money, he could only endure it for now.
It really wasn't that he was being a coward. It was just that he had only brought three lackeys with him this time; one had even been finished off by Rossi, leaving him with only two now.
The reason he brought so few people was entirely because he trusted Rossi too much. He never expected the result to be getting completely crushed by some great-grandmother brought in by Rossi's nephew, Jesse!
If a shootout started now, wouldn't he just be courting death?
If they were going to have a shootout, he should at least wait until he brought his own men, right?
Having figured out his situation, Miles rejected Rossi's proposal without hesitation: "This bet was an internal affair of your Corraro family from the very beginning. It has nothing to do with me."
"You were too greedy and insisted on betting against that Dragon Country woman. Now that you've lost, you want to drag me down with you? In your dreams!"
"If you want to make a move, do it after I leave. Anyway, I won't be keeping you company."
Seeing that this guy was backing out, Rossi's eyes grew redder and redder. "Good, very good... In that case, nobody is going to have it easy!"
Before his voice died away, Rossi suddenly pulled out another black handgun from the small of his back. Clearly, he had hidden more than one gun today.
Bang!
A gunshot rang out!
Miles lowered his head in astonishment, staring at the bloody hole that had appeared in his chest. He looked up at Rossi in disbelief. "You... how dare you..."
Bang! Bang!
Two more shots!
Miles crashed to the floor, landing heavily. His eyes were wide open, staring blankly in death.
A deathly silence fell over the entire room!
Everyone was stunned.
Rossi... actually killed Miles?
The second-in-command of the Hells Angels motorcycle gang was gunned down in public just like that?
"Boss!" The two Hells Angels members reacted, roaring as they prepared to fight back.
But Rossi was faster. He turned his muzzle and fired several shots at the two Hells Angels members.
The two men jolted before collapsing into a pool of blood, dead.
In the blink of an eye, he had killed three people in a row!
Rossi Corraro, this red-eyed losing gambler, this family traitor pushed to the brink, had gone completely mad!
