The sudden sound drew everyone's attention to the glass curtain wall below.
Sang Biao, his face contorted with rage, swung a punch towards Chen Fan's head.
Sang Biao's fist whistled through the air. If this punch had landed on Chen Fan's head, Chen Fan would have died on the spot.
However, Chen Fan's body was clearly more agile. He stood up and took a step back, dodging Sang Biao's fatal blow.
"Godfather, should we stop them?" Song Wenting asked, seeing this.
"The boss hasn't said anything, why is Boss Song in such a hurry?" Ghost Hand said mockingly.
Old Wolf sneered, "Is Boss Song afraid that kid will be dealt with before he even gets into the ring, and embarrass himself in front of the boss?"
"That's for sure. Sang Biao is my most capable subordinate, and he once punched a bull to death. That kid probably won't last a single move against him. Boss Song, don't feel too bad later," the flat-headed man said contemptuously.
In their eyes, Chen Fan was no match for Sang Biao.
Song Wenting glanced at the flat-headed man and the others, a smile playing on her lips. Seeing that her godfather had no intention of stopping them, she said no more.
"Damn it, kid, how long can you dodge!" Sang Biao roared from the side of the ring, swinging his sandbag-sized fists towards Chen Fan's face.
"Since you want to be eliminated early, I'll grant you your wish." A cold glint flashed in Chen Fan's eyes.
"Heh, arrogant!" Sang Biao immediately sneered. It was the first time he had encountered such trash as Chen Fan, daring to be so presumptuous in front of him.
In an instant, Sang Biao had murderous intent.
Chen Fan showed no intention of dodging this time. Instead, he also threw a punch, intending to go head-to-head with Sang Biao.
"Holy cow, is that kid out of his mind? He's actually going to go head-to-head with Sang Biao. Isn't that suicidal?"
"With one punch, that kid's arm will definitely be broken."
"Boss Song, it seems the person you chose is really not good. Not only is his strength lacking, but his brain doesn't work well either."
"Hahaha!"
A burst of mocking laughter erupted from the private room.
Some people even lowered their heads and started playing mobile games, clearly having lost all interest in the outcome.
In an instant, Chen Fan's fist collided with the man's fist. The burly men around them watched with amusement, knowing that Chen Fan was about to pay a heavy price for his previous actions.
The moment their fists met, Sang Biao's expression, which had been a cold sneer, froze. His eyes widened instantly, and he looked at Chen Fan with disbelief.
"Crack!"
The sound of bone breaking followed.
What happened next was a scene that left everyone dumbfounded.
Sang Biao, who was three or four times larger than Chen Fan, stumbled back several steps, only stopping when he hit the side of the ring!
The arena fell silent, and all the contestants stared at the scene in front of them, bewildered.
Sang Biao leaned against the base of the ring, his forehead already soaked in cold sweat. The arm that had collided with Chen Fan was trembling uncontrollably. A large bulge had formed in the middle of his arm, which was turning blue and purple. It was clear that the sound of bone breaking had come from Sang Biao!
"This, how is this possible!" In the private room upstairs, the flat-headed man sat bolt upright, his face filled with shock.
The others were also dumbfounded, gasping in disbelief. They couldn't believe that such a scrawny piece of trash could cripple the burly Sang Biao with a single punch!
"How is this possible?" Ghost Hand's eyes widened in shock.
He had been looking forward to seeing Chen Fan groveling on the ground begging for mercy, but he never expected Sang Biao to be the one sent flying back with one punch.
The only one in the arena who remained calm was Song Wenting. She knew Chen Fan's strength best.
Let alone one Sang Biao, even two wouldn't be Chen Fan's match.
"It seems your Sang Biao isn't much either. When you said he could kill a bull, you meant a newborn calf, right?" Song Wenting taunted mockingly.
The flat-headed man's face was ashen.
He had just mocked Song Wenting, and now he was being slapped in the face so quickly. What was worse, he had bragged so much about Sang Biao earlier. He felt his face burning with pain.
"You lost," Chen Fan said calmly from below the stage, retracting his fist.
Sang Biao was first shocked, then enraged. He had finally made it to this place, only to be defeated by a mere boy. Sang Biao was filled with unwillingness.
"Damn it, kid, you dared to break my arm, I'll take your life!" Sang Biao, blinded by rage, charged at Chen Fan again.
Seeing this, the flat-headed man's face tensed. Whether he could regain his dignity depended on Sang Biao's next move.
Chen Fan sighed helplessly as Sang Biao charged towards him.
Just as Sang Biao was about to reach Chen Fan, Chen Fan took a step to the right and then extended his left leg, tripping the charging Sang Biao.
Sang Biao's massive physique and powerful momentum sent him arcing through the air.
With a loud "bang!"
Sang Biao landed directly in the audience seats nearby, smashing a row of chairs.
This scene made Ghost Hand and Old Wolf cover their faces, unable to bear to watch.
The flat-headed man's last shred of hope vanished. His face was as ugly as if he had eaten ten pounds of dead rats.
Especially the underground bosses who were not on good terms with him let out disdainful cold laughs. These sounds were like slaps, constantly hitting his face.
Sang Biao had lost all fighting ability. Not only were both his arms broken, but his thigh also had a long gash, bleeding profusely.
Furthermore, his head had hit the wall, and he had already fainted.
Soon, several staff members rushed over with a stretcher and carried the unconscious Sang Biao away.
After dealing with Sang Biao, Chen Fan looked up at the glass curtain wall of the private room.
Others might not see anything, but Chen Fan could see the people sitting inside, especially the masked middle-aged man in the center, who caught Chen Fan's attention.
The middle-aged man also noticed Chen Fan's gaze, and their eyes met through the glass curtain wall.
However, the distance was too great, and there was no big screen broadcast. The middle-aged man couldn't see Chen Fan's face clearly, nor did he believe that Chen Fan could see through this one-way glass curtain wall.
"Originally sixteen people, now fifteen. How should we proceed?" Old Wolf asked doubtfully.
This was the first time they had encountered such a situation.
Song Wenting said, "My person won this match, so of course, he gets a bye in the first round."
"Boss Song, that's a bit unfair. It was supposed to be a draw. Even if there's one less person, the bye should be decided by luck."
"Exactly. It wasn't a match just now, it was a private fight, so it can't count."
Many people were dissatisfied with Song Wenting's suggestion.
"Then let them enter the coliseum," the middle-aged man's voice slowly sounded.