Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jingyi's first match was scheduled to start at eight in the evening.

From eight to nine-thirty pm was the prime time at the underground boxing venue, attracting the largest crowds. Scheduling Jingyi to fight during this period indicated the organizers' intention to promote her.

Of course, this venue was just a branch of the underground boxing scene, primarily hosting G4-level matches. Higher-tier fights took place in more upscale venues. Most attendees here were financially constrained residents from the back streets, but there were also genuine boxing enthusiasts from other areas who would make a special trip after work. To cater to this venue's clientele, even the most expensive drink on the menu was only a hundred star coins. Despite being a low-tier venue, it was spacious and clean, with beautiful dancers performing during the fifteen-minute intermission, entertaining the audience.

If this was the standard for the lowest-tier venue, one could only imagine the opulence of G2 or even G1-level venues.

Baisha watched a beautiful dancer's performance for a minute before the organizers came to notify Jingyi it was time for her match.

"I'm off," Jingyi instructed before leaving, "Don't drink alcohol here; it's very strong."

Baisha didn't mention that she used to drink alcohol like water on Hanbo Star, but instead raised her coconut juice, reassuring Jingyi.

Yanning, as Jingyi's assistant, followed her to the backstage of the boxing arena.

Baisha looked at the large screen nearby, which displayed the night's fight card. Jingyi's alias was "Di Si," and her opponent for the night was "Walta" — in a place like this, only a fool would use their real name. To conceal their identities, fighters wore half-face armor during the matches. But aspects like gender, age, build, and muscularity couldn't be hidden. Everyone could see that "Di Si" was a tall but slender young girl, while "Walta," though not a muscle-bound brute, was a prime-aged, well-muscled boxer. His skin was a wild, athletic bronze color, and a smaller screen next to him played his previous match videos.

Baisha watched the small screen for a while and noticed that Walta's fighting style was quite clean and sharp. He was like a swift tyrannosaurus, an explosive fighter, yet he remained calm when striking, often identifying and swiftly exploiting his opponents' weaknesses. In short, he was a fighter with strength, skill, and intelligence.

"Walta's" name was followed by his points and a progress bar for his level advancement — the bar was almost full.

"The ranking of boxers is competitive. Win a match and gain ten points, lose and ten points are deducted. 'Walta' is about to advance to G3, and tonight's match against 'Di Si' is his promotion bout," Baisha, with her excellent hearing, caught a low conversation by the fight card, "Why would the organizers set him up with such an opponent? Isn't it like giving him a direct ticket to G3?"

Another person clicked their tongue, "You don't know? This 'Di Si' came last week and won three consecutive matches, even defeating 'Sel Firehammer.' 'Sel Firehammer,' like 'Walta,' was one step away from G3. I heard she won quite easily last week, stunning 'Firehammer's' fans."

Boxers close to advancing from G4 to G3 also have their own fan base.

The chime of the eight o'clock bell rang.

A window in a dark red hue slowly lit up nearby.

"Hey, hey, hey, the betting window for Di Si vs. Walta is open. This time, Walta's the home fighter, and the odds are... no way, the odds are so low, and the gap isn't big, betting on either side is about the same! Does this mean even the organizers think their strengths are comparable?"

"Last time Di Si fought Firehammer, a lot of people were fooled by her appearance and lost big, resulting in a major upset," someone remarked, "Everyone's not a fool; bets this time will be more cautious, some might even abstain. Naturally, the organizers can only set low odds honestly."

Generally, the fewer people participating in betting and the smaller the disparity in strength between the fighters, the lower the odds set by the organizers.

Baisha thoughtfully finished her coconut juice, approached the betting window, and asked the attendant, "How much is the bet here?"

"One hundred star coins per bet, limit of twenty bets per person per match," the attendant replied.

Baisha nodded, "Then give me twenty bets, all on Di Si."

The attendant glanced up at Baisha indifferently, "Are you of legal age? Don't mess around if you're underage, I don't want your parents coming after me."

Baisha flashed a friendly smile: "None of your business."

Baisha's blunt response actually put the attendant at ease. After scanning to pay, she was given twenty dark red metal coins.

Pocketing the coins, Baisha walked towards the boxing ring without looking back.

She knew all too well that her appearance was likely the cause of the scrutiny.

People saw her face and assumed she was a rich young lady looking for thrills, hesitant to let her participate in betting.

Gambling can be addictive: some leave the arena and forget whether they won or lost, moving on with their lives. But those addicted are different. Although each person is limited to twenty bets, that still amounts to two thousand star coins. With daily matches, the money adds up significantly over time. There are indeed cases where people gamble away their fortunes.

If Baisha really were a wealthy young lady, the staff would be even more reluctant to let her bet – higher stakes are involved in higher-tier matches. Two thousand star coins are mere pocket change for the rich, but what if such a lady gets hooked on boxing betting and starts playing big at G2 or even G1 venues? The organizers won't refund their earnings, but if her family catches the attendant for causing trouble, it would be a simple matter for them.

Judging customers accordingly is an essential skill for staff at the underground boxing venues.

Baisha wasn't particularly interested in boxing betting; she was just going with the flow.

Having carefully studied Walta's previous match videos, Baisha felt that Jingyi winning against him wouldn’t be difficult. With Jingyi’s victory almost certain, why not place a bet for a chance at a small fortune?

At 8:10 pm, the boxing match officially began.

The fighters took their positions at opposite ends of the elevated stage.

Their bodies were covered in armor, with protective gear on their chests and backs, and each limb was equipped with exoskeletal machinery. These weren't full-body suits but rather segmented enhancements, like arm exoskeletons for increased strength and leg exoskeletons for better grip and mobility.

Besides the boxers near the ring were their assistants. An assistant, akin to a boxer's agent, is responsible for boosting morale, analyzing the opponent's tactics, and more importantly—calling a halt to the match and conceding when their boxer is close to defeat, to avoid death at the hands of the opponent.

Jingyi's assistant—Yanning, a "useless" assistant who did nothing but carry water and towels.

In contrast, Walta's assistant was a tall, burly man with gray hair and a piercing gaze, often frowning and closely observing Jingyi, then whispering tactical advice to Walta.

In terms of experience in the boxing world, there was a huge gap between the two sides.

But Jingyi was a natural at combat.

As soon as the bell rang, she charged out like a cannonball. Despite lacking mechanical enhancements on her legs, her speed was dazzlingly fast. "Clang!" Before Walta could even test her, Jingyi had already struck towards his face.

Walta quickly defended, bending his arms to absorb the blow. Seizing the moment Jingyi retracted her elbow, he launched a punch aimed at her left shoulder. Jingyi dodged, but the punch shifted direction at the last moment, aiming for her abdomen.

Just as Walta's attack was about to land, confident his feint had worked and Jingyi couldn't dodge in time, she moved as if her feet had eyes. Sidestepping with a swift glide, she narrowly avoided the punch and spun in the air, her fists landing heavily on the back of Walta's neck.

Walta was an experienced boxer, but Jingyi's instinct for combat, honed since childhood, surpassed him. Despite the limitations of mechanical boxing, such as not being allowed to use legs for attacking, Jingyi's adaptability and learning speed completely overpowered Walta.

Walta tried to analyze Jingyi's movement patterns, but she observed his bodily changes, the sounds of his exoskeleton, and even the air currents with each strike. While Walta habitually looked for patterns to exploit, Jingyi focused solely on the fight, notorious for her unpredictability.

In the first round, Jingyi scored consecutive hits.

In the second round, she forced her opponent out of the ring, leading the referee to declare a knockdown.

In the third round, her opponent, intimidated, stayed defensive throughout. His assistant, at the other end of the ring, was holding his forehead in despair, face as dark as the bottom of a pot.

Walta, known for his explosive power, never got a chance to use it. Jingyi's rapid-fire style dominated the match, not giving up an inch of control.

As the match ended, tiny drones flew around the ring, releasing a shower of confetti and gold flakes. Neon lights flickered overhead, and the announcer's voice boomed with excitement: "The winner of this match has emerged, she is—"

"Our dazzling star of tomorrow, the young warrior who single-handedly stopped 'Firehammer' and 'Walta,' both contenders for promotion, the youngest genius—'Di Si'!"

The crowd erupted into intense cheers and applause.

A focused beam of light shone on Jingyi.

The host, with a smile, turned his bright gaze towards Jingyi: "Does our 'Di Si' have any thoughts on her victory?"

This was a standard post-match segment, designed for interaction between the winner and the audience, likely also a way to attract fans for the fighters.

Jingyi looked at the microphone brought to her, raised her eyebrows slightly: "Nothing much to say."

The host playfully responded: "Don't be so heartless, your fans are watching you from below."

Jingyi: "Want me to act like a boxing star for business? That’s a different price."

Host: "..."

After the match, Jingyi, unwilling to stay a second longer, jumped off the stage and headed straight to the backstage rest area.

Baisha whistled and turned to the betting window to exchange all her twenty bets.

Another day of effortlessly earning eight hundred star coins.

Baisha decided to buy some extra chicken legs as a treat for her friends.

As Jingyi and Yanning shed their disguises and found Baisha to leave, a well-dressed, refined man suddenly blocked their way.

The man, with black hair and a composed, scholarly demeanor, took out a notebook and a gold-trimmed pen from his pocket. He opened the notebook and asked, “You are 'Di Si,' aren't you?”

Jingyi frowned, looking at him warily, “And you are?”

“I am Allen, the actuary of the underground boxing ring,” the man explained. “Simply put, I'm responsible for recording and assessing each of your matches and calculating the odds of you and your opponents winning. This is for setting betting odds for the underground boxing ring.”

“So? I didn't stop you from watching my match,” Jingyi responded nonchalantly. “If you want to collect my data, go ahead.”

“You've defeated two fighters on the verge of promotion to G3, which normally would mean immediate advancement for you,” Allen spoke softly. “But you haven't fought many matches, making it hard for me to accurately assess your strength. It's difficult for me to explain this to my superiors.”

Yanning: “So you want Jingyi to fight more matches in G4?”

“Yes. While Miss Di Si is undoubtedly strong, advancing too quickly attracts unwanted attention and targeting. Moreover, moving from G4 to G3 changes the nature of the fights. Everyone thinks it's mechanical boxing, but it’s actually smart-mech boxing – you can’t imagine the modifications the fighters make to their gear. More importantly, once you're in G3, any auxiliary method that doesn't directly enhance combat consciousness is considered 'not against the rules.'” Allen took a deep breath. “Let me put it this way: they can’t use combat chips during the match to record and analyze your movements – that's against the rules. But they can arm themselves from hair to teeth, and if someone replaces all their bones with alloy, that’s not considered 'cheating.'”

After listening, Jingyi looked at him with a complex gaze, “So, what are you trying to say?”

Allen seemed to sigh in relief, “I can connect you with the best mechanics on Lanslo Star. But as a condition, you need to stay longer at G4 level.” Pausing, he smiled meaningfully, “In the future, when you advance to higher-level matches, we'll have plenty of opportunities to collaborate.”

What kind of collaboration?

A private collaboration between an actuary and a fighter would inevitably involve manipulating betting odds and fixing matches.

Jingyi glanced at Allen, “I agree. I’ll stay and fight a few more days in the G4 arena.”

As a look of satisfaction began to appear on Allen's face, Jingyi quickly added, "But on the condition that you don't bother me again. I'm here to make money, sure, but my goal is to enjoy fighting and earn some cash along the way. If any troublesome matters arise, I'll leave immediately."

Allen paused, then forced a smile, "It's rare to meet someone like you. Fine, if you're not interested in collaborating with me, that's okay. But as part of our deal, I can still find you a reliable mechanic."

"The best mechanic on Lanslo Star is right here by my side," Jingyi pointed at Baisha, "Why would I go looking elsewhere?"

Baisha, who had been standing to the side listening, nodded in acknowledgment when Jingyi mentioned her.

Allen subtly sized up Baisha: "Your companion here, is she a mechanic?"

"Yes, she's definitely at the level of a high-class mechanic," Jingyi said, draping an arm over Baisha's shoulder and smiling, "She's just not old enough to be certified yet."

Baisha: "..." The second part of that statement was unnecessary.

Allen looked at them, clearly skeptical of Baisha's abilities as a high-level mechanic – after all, how many of those were there on Lanslo Star? He chuckled sincerely, dismissing Jingyi's claim as a joke, and didn't press further: "Alright then, I won't intrude any longer."

The refined actuary bid them goodbye with a smile.

After the actuary left, the three of them departed from the underground boxing venue.

On the drive back in the flyer, Baisha asked Jingyi how long she planned to stay in the underground boxing scene.

"I'll stop when I'm close to G2," Jingyi replied nonchalantly, "Anyway, we're leaving Lanslo Star to go to school in two years. If I reach G2 or even G1, I'd probably end up entangled with the underground boxing scene's interests like that actuary. It would bring a lot of trouble."

After all, they had almost saved enough for their tuition. They weren't in a dire rush to make money, so they were just going to the underground boxing venue for practice and a bit of excitement.

"Actually, with the frequency we visit the back streets, we can't ascend the ranks as quickly as those professional fighters," Baisha noted, considering that as prep school students they only had weekends off, "But that conversation earlier has piqued my interest in the mechanical gear used in the higher-tier matches."

What's the skill level of mechanics in the underground boxing scene?

The only issue is that tickets to high-tier matches are quite pricey...

Fortunately, she had just earned eight hundred star coins. She planned to check out the G3 or G2 matches corresponding to that amount. If she could modify those mechanical gears, she would undoubtedly tap into a large group of demanding customers.

After returning to the orphanage, the trio each went to their rooms to rest, but Baisha's light computer received a message:

"The high-end light computer you ordered will be delivered soon. Please select a delivery time."

Baisha almost jumped out of bed with excitement, instantly wide awake.

Baisha: "Does 1 a.m. count as tomorrow?"

From the other side: "..."

From the other side: "You're really eager."

Baisha: "?"

Baisha typed: "Aren't you the delivery person from the light computer company?"

The other side replied slowly: "…Check our previous communication records on my homepage."

Baisha did as suggested and found only one record—a transaction where the other party had transferred three hundred thousand star coins to her.

Baisha: "..."

She quickly typed, "Oh, it's you, haha, sorry about that."

While apologizing, Baisha smoothly changed the contact's name in her light computer to –

"Zhou Xiang's Dangerous Uncle."

The reason for his contact was mainly about the delivery of the light computer. Ning Hongxue couldn't arrange for someone to directly deliver it to her, so he had the item sent to a discreet location for Baisha to collect. And what better place than the back streets for discretion?

Since she had to go out to pick it up and the location was quite far from the orphanage, Baisha wasn't in a hurry to get her hands on the light computer right away.

Just then, she received another message from him.

"Since it's your request, I can't really refuse. The delivery has been arranged, remember to collect the light computer on time."

Baisha: "..."

Resignedly, Baisha got out of bed and went out to start her flyer in the dark.

What’s it called when you lift a rock only to drop it on your own foot? This was it!