By 8:30 p.m., the campus was nearly empty, with only a few students coming and going near the dorms.
Jason Luo waited alone at the university gate. Right on time, two cars pulled up—one of them an old, battered Nissan that rolled to a stop nearby.
Shadow stepped out first, scanning the area. "Well, well… you actually came alone. Didn't even bring your girlfriend? What a shame."
Jason didn't bother humoring him. "Cut the talk. Who sent you?"
"Heh, kid, don't bother asking. That's way above your pay grade."
Mad Bones frowned impatiently. "Enough already. Let's get this done. You going first, or am I?"
Seeing that he wouldn't get any answers, Jason glanced around deliberately. "Hold on. There might be students walking by. Let's find somewhere else."
Mad Bones sneered. "What, trying to play smart? Kid, don't think too highly of yourself. In a boxing ring, under rules, you might hold your own. But in a street fight? We'll drop you in seconds. Let's end it right here."
Jason chuckled. "Don't kid yourself. If you really know who I am, then you should know I'm no rookie. If you're scared, go home. I'm not wasting my time looking like a fool out here."
With that, he turned and strode toward the university gym.
Mad Bones moved to chase, but Shadow stopped him. "Relax. Don't make a scene. If we cause trouble, it'll be a mess to clean up. Follow him. This is just a fair challenge, remember? No need to overthink it."
Mad Bones grunted but followed. Soon, all three entered the empty training hall.
The second-floor gym was silent. Jason pushed open the door. "Come on in, both of you. I'd like to hear what kind of 'rules' you've got in mind."
Shadow peeked in, saw the coast was clear, then stepped inside. The hall was spacious and well-lit, its floor lined with soft mats—a fancy place for a fight.
"Rules?" Shadow smirked. "Kid, that's funny. The only rule is that I knock you down. Don't take it personally—it's just business. We're doing someone a favor."
Jason feigned unease. "Wait, I thought this was just a spar. Don't go too far!"
Mad Bones laughed. "What, you think this is a game? Don't worry, we won't kill you. Just a little lesson. Maybe a couple years in the hospital—enough time to rest up, ha ha..."
"Yeah? Then let's see who ends up there first."
Suddenly, the lights on the second floor blazed on. More than thirty women's rugby players stormed in—helmets on, shoulder pads tight, and metal bats in hand.
The two men froze in shock. But when they realized the newcomers were all women, they burst out laughing.
"Kid, I gotta hand it to you," Shadow howled. "You brought a cheer squad? You think they're gonna save you?"
Before Jason could answer, the team was already fuming. Catherine's voice rang out: "You bastards! Candy Babies—CHARGE!"
The men barely had time to react before the girls rushed them, yelling, swinging bats, and tackling like a small army.
Shadow and Mad Bones tried to fight back, but against dozens of armored rugby players, they didn't stand a chance. Within seconds, they were flattened, swarmed, and buried under a storm of pads, legs, and fury.
Well... talk about a unique kind of beating.
When the team finally stepped back, the two men were a sight to behold—hair wild like birds' nests, faces smeared with shoe prints, and clothes wrinkled beyond recognition. They exchanged miserable glances, utterly defeated.
Mad Bones still had some fight left in him. Pointing at Jason, he shouted, "What the hell is this? We came here for a fair fight, and you ambush us with a pack of women?"
Jason grinned. "Hey, don't blame me. I just asked them to be witnesses. You're the ones who pissed them off. Not my problem."
"Bullshit! Fight me one-on-one!"
Jason stepped forward calmly. "Fine. Let's go."
Shadow—his dreadlocks flattened and temper burning—snarled. "I'll handle this."
Though they looked battered, the girls hadn't gone all-out; most of the damage was cosmetic. Shadow stripped off his shredded jacket, revealing a body covered in tattoos.
Jason followed suit, removing his own. Boxing with clothes on was never comfortable anyway.
The reaction from the stands was immediate. "Wow, Catherine, he's ripped! Look at those abs—pure power!"
"Ha! Girl, if you ever can't handle him, call me next time!"
In the ring, Shadow sized him up. "Hmph. Let me show you what real fighting looks like. Here I come!"
Without warning, he launched into a front flip followed by a side somersault, his long legs whipping toward Jason.
Jason sidestepped, countering with a quick strike to the gut—but Shadow dropped low, sweeping a leg at his feet. Jason hopped clear, and in one smooth motion, Shadow flipped back to his feet and attacked again—both fists aimed straight for Jason's temples.
Jason blocked and dodged, but the man's style was strange—erratic yet fluid, mixing moves from everywhere.
It felt a bit like the Wildcat fighter he'd faced before, but this one relied less on footwork and more on incredible waist flexibility. His legwork was unpredictable—high kicks, low sweeps, feints from every angle.
Jason was forced onto the defensive. His legs had already taken several hard kicks, but thanks to his Stamina Attribute, he was still holding steady.
Shadow frowned. "What the hell? A boxer taking that many leg hits and still standing?"
He backed up two steps. "Kid, you've trained your lower body too?"
Jason raised his leg and gave a wry smile. "You tell me first—what style is that supposed to be?"
"Capoeira—the Brazilian War Dance!"
Jason blinked, then shook his head. "Never heard of it. As for me? Guess you could say I trained when I was a kid—I used to jump stairs."
"What? You little—!"
They clashed again. Jason stopped defending—there was no point. Instead, he attacked head-on.
That changed everything. Shadow had assumed Jason's lower body would be his weakness, but the boxer's sheer power and balance caught him completely off guard.
Shadow's flexibility was impressive, but his strength wasn't. His sweeps did no damage, and Jason's punches hit like hammers. The moment Jason went on the offensive, Shadow found himself driven backward again and again.
Seeing Jason take control, Catherine jumped up and shouted, "Go, honey, go!"
Instantly, the entire team joined in: "Go, honey, go!"
Jason nearly lost his rhythm under the wave of cheering.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Shadow caught Jason's lead arm, spun around, and tried to throw him with a powerful back slam.
But Jason reacted instantly—recalling the anti-throw move Coach Datchai had taught him. He drove his rear fist into Shadow's lower back, locking his hips and breaking his leverage.
The throw failed.
Jason ripped his arm free and countered with a crushing punch to Shadow's back. Thud! Shadow stumbled forward, barely staying upright.
Panic flickered in his eyes. What kind of monster was this? A boxer who could take leg kicks, resist throws, and hit like that?
Jason, on the other hand, was just warming up. He lunged forward aggressively, forcing Shadow to use kicks to maintain distance.
But Jason kept pressing. Shadow managed one solid front kick, landing squarely—but Jason caught his ankle midair.
A smirk flashed across Jason's face. No gloves this time—perfect.
He lifted the leg high and jerked it hard. Nothing.
Again. Still no reaction.
The man's flexibility and balance were unbelievable—standing solid on one leg the whole time.
Jason couldn't believe it. "Seriously? When it was me, I used to go down with one tug... What a useless takedown move."
So instead, he gripped the ankle tighter, drew back his other hand, and slammed his fist straight into Shadow's shinbone.
"ARGH!"
Just one punch—
And Shadow was done.
He hit the ground clutching his leg, rolling and howling in pain, tears streaming down his face.
Jason shook his sore hand, flexing his fingers. Then he nodded with satisfaction.
"Yep. Straight punches are still the best way to end a fight."