Arranging the Duel

Old Bian sat with a dark face for a while before asking his disciple standing not far away, "Did you find out what that kid's background is?" The disciple before him immediately answered, "Master, I figured it out. The one who came is from the Upper District's Disposal Bureau." "From the Disposal Bureau?" Old Bian was startled, then frowned and asked, "You found out that fast? Is this confirmed?" Although third-limit fighters were never without background, verifying it should still take some time, shouldn't it? Especially someone from the Upper District—people didn't walk around with their files stamped across their foreheads. It always took some effort. How much time had even passed? When had this foolish disciple of his ever been so efficient? "It's confirmed!" Seeing Old Bian still eyeing him suspiciously, the disciple hastily said, "No, Master, look at this, I got it from up above..." He quickly tapped on his boundary credential a few times and transmitted a video clip over to Old Bian. "The person in this video is him, and the other one is Wei Wusheng from the Tianshu Gang, the one you told us about before, Master." "Wei Wusheng? That old man Yu's disciple from the Tianshu Gang?" Old Bian watched the recording in astonishment. Wei Wusheng was no small name. More importantly, in his age bracket, Old Man Yu Hongming of the Tianshu Gang had been an insurmountable hurdle for his master's and even grandmaster's generation. Wei Wusheng was reputed to be Yu Hongming's proudest student in nearly thirty years, so Old Bian had naturally paid attention to him and often used him as an example to admonish his disciples. Then he watched the scene where Chen Chuan pinned Wei Wusheng to the ground and hammered him mercilessly. His eyelids twitched violently. Especially at the end, that palm thrust that directly pierced through Wei Wusheng's chest showed power and speed that, when he imagined himself on the receiving end, made his blood rush, his breathing turn ragged, and his entire body tense up involuntarily. The disciple didn't notice his expression and said eagerly, as though presenting a treasure, "Master, there's also this clip..." With that, he transmitted another video. This clip showed Chen Chuan emerging from the water holding the severed head of Xu Xianwen, leader of the Viper Team. The camerawork was superb, blending the scenery, light, and subject seamlessly. To an ordinary person, it was visually striking, but to Old Bian, it was far less viscerally direct than the previous fight. He asked in an even tone, "Whose head is that in his hand?" "Master, I heard it's Xu Xianwen's." "Xu Xianwen..." Old Bian knitted his brows. He seemed to recall hearing that name somewhere. Normally, a fighter of his limit could recall memories all the way back to childhood; he just couldn't be bothered to dwell on irrelevant matters. But before he could dig into his memory, his disciple thoughtfully forwarded Xu Xianwen's dossier—and not just Xu Xianwen's, but those of every member of the Viper Team as well. Old Bian fell silent. The disciple said, fishing for praise, "Master, the info I found this time was pretty fast and thorough, right?" The muscle along Old Bian's jaw twitched slightly. He said, "Not bad. Very thorough." His disciple asked with great anticipation, "Master, when are you going to teach that kid a lesson? I'll round up my junior brothers to cheer you on." Old Bian frowned and barked, "When did I ever say I was going to teach him a lesson? Even if they act without honor, I can't act without propriety. Did you forget what I told you all? Solving problems with nothing but fighting and killing gets you nowhere." The disciple was a little confused. Hadn't that been Master's implication earlier? But then again, Master truly had fought rarely in recent years, relying on his past reputation alone to make rivals back down. That made sense too. He asked again, "Master, then what do we do?" Old Bian scowled. Earlier, he had heard that the newcomer was just a third-limit fighter under twenty years old, so he figured he had a decent shot. Yet having just witnessed Chen Chuan's combat footage, he couldn't help shrinking back. That level of combat prowess was something he couldn't withstand even in his prime when he was young. He had long lost the fiery spirit of his youth, and hiding away here for years without fighting had worn down his willpower completely. He only wanted to retire in peace while milking as much profit as possible, which was why he had relied solely on his early reputation to intimidate others in recent years. Yet the current situation was truly intolerable—he could leave on his own accord, but he would never allow himself to be kicked out! He said in a deep voice, "Pass word to Poison Ant Express that Lutong found another third-limit fighter. Tell them I didn't want to get involved in this mess, so they looked for someone else." "Master, should we send the files we dug up to Poison Ant Express?" "No need," Old Bian said. "You worked hard to dig this up. Let them find out on their own." "Master is right. Let them dig it up themselves." Old Bian sneered internally. If he passed Chen Chuan's details to Poison Ant Express and made them chicken out, what then? Wouldn't his ejection from Lutong be settled with no recourse? It was better to let the two sides clash. If Chen Chuan fell short, he believed Lutong would still come crawling back to him to clean up the mess. If Poison Ant Express lost, that was fine too. He refused to believe that winning a single fight would solve everything for Lutong. The Moss Gang backing Poison Ant Express would never let this drop. Even if Chen Chuan provided a deterrent while he was present, once he left and Lutong couldn't withstand the pressure, they would sooner or later have to invite Old Bian back—and by then, the price wouldn't be what it was now. Of course, he wasn't an evil man; he would still leave some scraps and broth for the people at Lutong. If those folks couldn't survive at all, his heart would ache for them, after all. *** Lan Xinnan acted quickly. Because some former Lutong Logistics employees had defected to Poison Ant Express, communication channels still existed between the two sides. In less than two hours, Chen Chuan had the opposing fighter's dossier in hand. The man was named Gai Er, thirty-five years old. In the photograph, his eyes and brow were vicious. Clad in a training uniform and bound by a thick sash, he stood barefoot with an indescribable malevolence about him, clutching a metallic three-section staff in his hands. According to the dossier, he started out at a martial arts school. Because of his remarkable talent, he quickly distinguished himself, and the master took him in as a son-in-law. Not long after, when a rival martial arts school offered him better terms, he abandoned his wife and child. A few years later, he teamed up with a gang to swallow that original school whole. From then on, he took on dirty work for various gangs, worked as an underground assassin, attacked prominent government officials, and murdered corporate executives. Having committed far too many crimes, he became the target of bounties and warrants from corporations, the government, and even gangs alike, forcing him to flee into the subterranean district. Had a third-limit fighter not committed grave offenses, they would have had a place wherever they went; to be despised across so many factions was quite a feat in itself. On the surface, this man seemed like a pure scumbag and lunatic, but Chen Chuan knew that moral character had nothing to do with strength. He could sense that at the third limit, immense importance was placed on one's heart's intent. This consistency—being a villain through and through from start to finish—only proved that the man possessed an unwavering intent, never once swayed by external circumstances. If that was the case, his strength was likely formidable, as evidenced by how he was still alive and kicking despite having made so many enemies. Next, Chen Chuan examined Old Bian's file. The man was already sixty-nine years old, and the more detailed records consisted of his exploits from his youth, when he went by the moniker "Fierce Bear." Photographs from his younger days showed a hulking giant over two meters tall. Though he had shrunken somewhat with age, he was still over one meter ninety. However, over the past seven or eight years, he had no reliable combat records; it seemed he hadn't exchanged blows with anyone during that entire period. If a skilled fighter went without exchanging moves with peers of their level for a prolonged period, their combat abilities would inevitably deteriorate. Never mind seven or eight years—for someone lacking sufficient talent, even a few days without practice could cause their condition to slip. Still, the possibility that he had deliberately concealed his record could not be ruled out, so caution was still warranted. Having reviewed the dossiers, he said to Lan Xinnan, "I only just arrived in the Lower District and don't know how things are handled here. If I want to arrange a duel with that man, are there any particular rules to follow?" Lan Xinnan replied, "The standard practice when two organizations have a dispute is usually to have third-limit fighters step in to mediate. If mediation fails, they don't fight each other; they let the people below settle it. I heard from our old captain that this is a tacit rule between third-limit fighters in the Lower District." "Is that so..." Chen Chuan pondered it and found it understandable. Most fighters honed their skills not to throw their lives away in desperate struggles, but to enjoy greater benefits and comforts. Endlessly fighting for their lives didn't guarantee more, and it was far more likely to leave them at a loss. Thus, such an arrangement served the interests of all third-limit fighters. Lan Xinnan continued, "And if a dispute cannot be reconciled, or if one side refuses to yield, they arrange a duel face-to-face. Old Bian used this exact excuse to demand another twenty percent of our resources." Chen Chuan said, "Since that's an accepted method, Captain Lan, please arrange a match with the person from Poison Ant Express for me." Lan Xinnan said, "Understood! But if the other side learns that we replaced Old Bian and manages to dig up information about you, Brother Chen, they might pretend to accept while finding excuses to stall." Chen Chuan wasn't from the Lower District, after all, and couldn't stay here long. If Poison Ant Express was smart, they wouldn't need to fight at all—they would only have to stall until Chen Chuan left. That was her greatest worry. Chen Chuan replied calmly, "That doesn't matter. I checked earlier, and Poison Ant Express has a headquarters. If they refuse, I'll just go straight to their doorstep." Lan Xinnan nodded. With an approach that practically forced their hand at their own doorstep, the other side would never back down. Even if their leadership didn't care about the headquarters, they would have to worry about Chen Chuan leading people to attack their subordinates across the board, which would force them to spit back out the territory and business they had seized. No one in their outfit, from top to bottom, could tolerate that. "I'll send the challenge to Poison Ant Express right away," she said, stepping away immediately to make the arrangements. However, Lan Xinnan's worries proved groundless. Poison Ant Express had no intention of avoiding a fight. Barely half an hour after she sent the challenge, they gave a definitive reply. Once both sides confirmed, the duel was set for tomorrow morning.