You are really no match for me [Fighting] - chapter 5

One was Mo, a 45-year-old millionaire who ran an underground fighting arena. The other was Bai Hanqing, a rookie agent competing for his first foothold in the industry.

Inside the lavishly decorated office, the air was tense as drawn blades. One kept sneering coldly, while the other’s lips twitched with irritation—neither willing to give an inch.

“Boss, you can forget about keeping Yu’er here. That’s absolutely impossible. No matter how hard you try to talk me into it, I won’t agree. The national fighting tournament starts in three months. That’s the limit—she’ll fight here at most three months, not a day longer.”

The boss gritted his teeth. “Xiao Bai, are you trying to rebel against me?”

Bai cleared his throat, straightened his tie, and said calmly, “Mr. Mo, I’m speaking to you now as Yu’er’s agent. Please address me properly—Agent Bai. Thank you.”

Today Bai had borrowed a full outfit from somewhere: a tailored black suit, hair slicked back with heavy gel to reveal a broad forehead and cocky grin. A faint trace of fragrance hung around him—something between Darjeeling tea and a wild, musky cologne. Against all odds, he actually looked the part.

The scent was familiar. Yu remembered it from her former agent, Gao Xisheng, who had also liked this particular cologne. The smell stirred a pang of longing—people never realized what they’d had until it was gone. Gao might have been strict, but he had been dependable.

Just as the boss felt his temples pounding and his chest tightening, Bai spoke again:

“Let’s be honest, boss. Your underground arena doesn’t have much of a future. If Yu’er weren’t so insistent on repaying the debt she owes you, I would never have agreed to let her fight here. With her talent, every arena in the country would line up to sign her. Here, she’s simply wasting her skills.”

The boss sneered. “Don’t flatter her too much. You know what it means to be national champion better than I do. Yu only beat Jingang—why are you so sure she could take the national title? Where does your confidence come from?”

“I’m a fighting agent,” Bai shot back. “And the most basic skill of an agent is recognizing true talent. I’ve never been wrong about my judgment.”

Seeing he couldn’t win against Bai, the boss turned to Yu instead. “Yu, it’s not that I want to discourage you, but the national tournament isn’t so simple. First you have to pass the open qualifiers—only a thousand slots in total. Then come the regional rounds: twelve regions, thirty winners each. That’s 360 fighters moving on to the finals, which last an entire week. The opponents will only get tougher. Why not stay here with me? I promise you won’t be treated unfairly.”

“Uncle,” Yu replied, “Xiao Bai and I have already discussed this. Before the national tournament begins, we’ll make the Bige Arena the most famous in Jiangbei. Our plan is to create hype online: spread the word that a so-called ancient martial arts heir—a pure hand-to-hand fighter—defeated Jingang and is now the strongest fighter in Jiangbei. Then we’ll issue a 200,000 yuan bounty: whoever beats me can claim the prize. That will draw every fight enthusiast in Jiangbei. With that audience, Bige’s numbers will multiply tenfold, maybe even a hundredfold.”

There were only three large underground arenas and five legitimate ones in Jiangbei. Mo thought it over. If Yu was right, then “Hong Su Dao” and “Keruisen” would surely challenge her. The three major arenas were evenly matched, each with their own star fighters. But if Yu defeated them all, Bige would be unrivaled. The profit would be enormous.

The problem was: could she really pull it off? If she failed, the arena’s reputation would collapse, and where would he find new fighters? The risk was enormous.

As Mo hesitated, Yu added firmly, “Uncle, trust me. If I dare step into the spotlight, it means I have the confidence to win.”

Bai chimed in, “Exactly. Yu knows her strength. As her agent, I’d never gamble with her career. She’s aiming for the national championship. Becoming the strongest in Jiangbei is just the first step. Imagine—if the national champion comes from your arena, do you think you’ll ever lack fighters or an audience again?”

Mo finally exhaled, relief flooding his face. “All right. A gamble it is. Yu, I’ll trust you. Three months it is.”

Bai immediately whipped a pen out of his pocket with dog-like eagerness. Mo glared at him but still signed heavily across both copies: Mo Qi.

Bai grinned wickedly as he reached for the contracts. Mo held them tight, eyes locking with Bai’s in a silent duel. Sparks seemed to fly between them.

At last, Mo released his grip. Bai snatched the contracts, scanned them into his watch for safekeeping, then tucked them carefully into a coded briefcase. He said smugly, “Boss Mo, don’t forget to back up the digital copies. Yu’er, let’s go.”

Yu, unsurprised, didn’t even glance at the paperwork. “Uncle, I’ll be leaving then. Take care.”

“Mm. Close the door on your way out.”

The two left the office.

“Woohoo! Yu’er, what did I tell you? I said we could do it! Let me be your agent officially!”

Though Bai seemed a little flighty, Yu had witnessed his sharp tongue and quick thinking in the office. He wasn’t as careless as he appeared. With his decent character, solid ability, and the fact that he was the first person she’d truly gotten to know here, she nodded and teased, “Of course, Agent Bai. I’ll be counting on you.”

“Hahaha! Trust me, I’ll make you famous nationwide!”

Yu raised an eyebrow at his exaggerated boasting. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Clenching his fists, Bai shouted, “Just wait! One day, your face will be on every big screen in the world!”

Yu headed back to her rest area. The arena had prepared a new private room for her with training facilities and a shower. No more sleeping in the tiny dorm. She only needed to collect her belongings—chiefly, her frog-shaped alarm clock.

It had a simple touch switch. Yu liked that kind of straightforward design.

As she reached under the bed, she spotted a glimmer of light. Crawling down, she found reflective tape wrapping a note and a small object: a security token that looked almost identical to her old home USB drive, engraved with the name Yu Jin.

She clutched the token, locked the room, and searched every corner. Something told her there were more items hidden with her name on them.

Sure enough, she discovered a pair of VR goggles and a jacket.

The goggles blinked a message: You haven’t logged into the “Stellar Wilds” world for two days. Welcome back. Remaining power: 75%. Estimated use time: three days.

The jacket flashed a different prompt: Today’s temperature: 20–25°C. Cloudy, light breeze. Please take your jacket when going out and stay warm.

Interesting. Yu’s eyes lit up. She fiddled with the VR set, trying to find the controls—when suddenly, a knock came at the door.

“Yu, it’s Jingang. I need to talk to you.”

What now? Was he here for a rematch?

“Jingang, I told you—one match decides it. You lost.”

A different, unfamiliar voice replied, “Miss Yu, I heard you defeated Jingang. I’m curious how you managed it.”

Yu opened the door to find a man resembling Jingang but wearing glasses, cultured in demeanor.

“Miss Yu, I’m Jingang’s elder brother and his agent, Jinmu. A pleasure to meet you.”

Yu instantly sensed trouble. His tone was anything but friendly. “If you think I cheated, I’m willing to be tested. But if nothing is found, you’ll owe me a public apology.”

Jingang, stripped of his earlier arrogance, looked like a child scolded before his brother. “Brother… don’t. Yu really does have the skill…”

Bai hurried over, clearly tipped off and ready to back her up. “And not just an apology. You’ll post a statement on Jingang’s social media and pin it for a month. I’ll be checking daily.”

Jinmu stiffened, then softened his tone. “Miss Yu, you misunderstand me. I only meant that since you’ll be leaving soon for the national tournament, perhaps you could delay announcing Jingang’s loss. In exchange, I’ll help you prepare for nationals. Jingang could serve as your sparring partner, mimicking different opponents’ styles.”

Bai glared. “So you want to be her agent? Forget it. Yu already has me. Don’t even think about poaching her.”

“Not an agent,” Jinmu corrected smoothly. “Think of me more as a coach. For one year, you can come to me with any questions.”

Bai snapped, “Oh, you’re slick, Jinmu. One year of coaching in exchange for Jingang’s career staying alive here? Why on earth would we agree?”

Jinmu pushed his glasses up, eyes flashing. “Because I made it to the national finals myself.”

Yu’s frown melted into a wide, eager smile. The fire in her eyes sparked. “Beat me, and I’ll accept your offer.”

“Now?” Jinmu raised a brow.

Yu tied her hair up in a swift motion. “I said it. Now.”

Bai nearly fainted. “Do you know how much Jingang earns in a year fighting here? And you’re trading that for a coach’s fee? Yu’er, you can’t trust him—Jinmu is sly! You’ll lose everything!”

Yu leaned close and whispered, “If I beat him, I’ll make him coach us and do our publicity for free.”

Bai’s expression turned shifty. He whispered back, “Then pound him into the ground.”

Yu glanced at him curiously. “What, you’ve got a grudge against him?”

Bai’s face twisted with outrage. “When I first got here, that bastard scammed me out of my entire savings! That was supposed to be my marriage fund! I’m still single because of him!”

Yu suddenly noticed his shoes—bright neon-green Chelsea boots clashing horribly with his otherwise proper outfit. She pressed a hand to her forehead.

Boy, are you sure the reason you’re single isn’t just your atrocious fashion sense?