Making a Name

Wei Liang's victory at the Red Phoenix Club wasn't enough. It was just the first step.

Over the next few weeks, he fought every night. Every fight was tougher than the last boxers with deadly hands, wrestlers who could ragdoll opponents, Muay Thai specialists who carved through fighters with knees and elbows.

But Wei didn't just survive.

He adapted.

He studied his opponents, learned their strengths, exploited their weaknesses. He switched styles mid-fight, overwhelming them with speed, precision, and technique.

By the end of the month, the whispers had started.

"That Chinese kid is different."

"He moves like the wind."

"He fights like a ghost untouchable."

And soon, his name reached the people he wanted it to.

The Invitation

Wei was in the middle of wrapping his hands when a man approached him.

Tall, lean, with a sharp gaze that cut through the smoke-filled room. He wasn't a fighter. His suit was too clean, his posture too relaxed.

"You're Wei Liang," the man said.

Wei didn't answer. He didn't need to.

The man smirked. "You're making a lot of noise. Some people are interested."

Wei remained silent, waiting.

"You've won your fights here," the man continued, "but this is nothing. If you really want to prove yourself, there's an underground tournament coming up. Only the best fight there. Win, and you'll get the attention of the ones who matter."

Wei's expression remained cold. "Who's hosting it?"

The man chuckled. "Ever heard of Gun Park?"

Wei's eyes sharpened.

Gun Park one of the strongest fighters in Korea. A man whose very name made underground fighters hesitate.

"This tournament," Wei said, "does he fight in it?"

The man laughed. "No. But he watches. And if you impress him, who knows?"

Wei clenched his fists.

Gun Park was watching.

This was the chance he had been waiting for.

"I'm in."

The Underground Tournament

The tournament was held in a hidden location, deep within an abandoned warehouse near the docks. It wasn't like the street fights Wei was used to. This was organized violence.

The crowd was bigger. Richer. Betting thousands on fighters who had killed men in the ring.

Wei stood among them, watching. He could already tell these weren't normal street brawlers. Some of them were ex-professionals, former MMA fighters, elite martial artists.

This was a different level.

Wei tightened his wraps.

Good.

He had come here for a real fight.

The first match was called. A Korean kickboxer vs. a Russian Sambo fighter. The fight was brutal. Fast. Precise. Lethal. The kickboxer landed a brutal knee to the Russian's face, knocking him out cold.

Wei didn't flinch. He had seen worse.

Then, the announcer's voice echoed.

"Next fight Wei Liang vs. Kang Dae-Won!"

The crowd murmured. People were already placing bets.

Wei stepped into the cage. His opponent, Kang Dae-Won, was a seasoned MMA fighter stocky, powerful, built like a tank.

Dae-Won smirked. "You're the Chinese kid everyone's talking about? I'll break you."

Wei rolled his shoulders. "Try."

The bell rang.

Dae-Won rushed forward, aiming to overwhelm Wei with sheer power.

Wei didn't move back.

Instead, he stepped in.

A counter-punch lightning-fast. It smashed into Dae-Won's ribs. He staggered. Wei followed up with a low kick, then a sharp elbow to the jaw.

The crowd gasped.

Dae-Won shook it off, lunging in for a takedown. But Wei had trained in Judo. The moment Dae-Won grabbed him, Wei redirected the momentum a perfect hip toss, sending Dae-Won crashing to the ground.

Wei didn't hesitate.

He locked in a rear-naked choke. Tight. Unbreakable.

Dae-Won thrashed. He tried to escape. But Wei had trained in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. He knew how to finish a fight.

Dae-Won tapped.

The crowd erupted.

Wei stood up, his breath steady.

Another win. Another step forward.

And this time, he knew Gun Park was watching.

Waiting.

Soon, Wei would face him.

And he would be ready.