C53

The opening match was underway!

As the gong resounded, Kincaid unleashed an onslaught as fierce as a tempest.

His attacks were relentless.

Elijah, caught off guard, could only scramble to respond, his steps faltering backward.

In such a clash, seizing the initiative with a flurry of strikes could leave the opponent reeling.

And the stakes were high – the Golden Palace's owner had put forth a tantalizing prize.

Victory meant a hefty bonus.

For fighters willing to sign their life away, that prize was worth every risk.

Elijah, battered by the barrage, found himself cornered against the unforgiving steel of the cage.

At this sight, the crowd leapt to their feet, fists pumping, electrified by the spectacle.

Strength and weakness were laid bare for all to see, the tension palpable.

In private room number eight, Aimee's eyes were wide with awe, her hands nervously resting at her side.

She had never witnessed such a raw, thrilling display of combat.

The raw clash of power, the strategic strikes and parries – it was exhilarating.

Though tempted to try her hand, Aimee had already placed a ten-thousand-yuan wager.

It wasn't a fortune, but it signified her stake in the fight.

Her money was on Elijah.

Not because she saw great strength in him, but out of an innate compassion for the underdog.

Elijah seemed too frail, too slight – she willed him to win.

Meanwhile, Edith and the rest were riveted by the action onstage.

Only Rollen and Vaden were engrossed in quiet conversation, their wine glasses in hand, casting sly glances at Aimee, their smiles tinged with a chilling mirth.

In stark contrast, Westley's private room was a haven of tranquility.

So quiet, it bordered on dull.

Brianna found Westley's behavior peculiar.

Since placing his bet, he'd shown no interest in the match.

Instead, he contentedly munched on cherries, his attention fixed on the room's television, which played a childish cartoon.

Yet there he was, thoroughly amused, chuckling like a child.

Brianna couldn't help but sigh, "The world of the wealthy is truly beyond my grasp."

"Where's my apple?" Westley's voice drifted lazily across the room.

"Right here."

Brianna quickly passed the peeled apple to him.

"Thanks."

Westley grabbed the apple and began to gnaw on it unceremoniously, his gaze never straying from the TV screen.

Brianna's heart sank. For the first time, she found herself questioning her own figure and looks. Could he really be that honorable?

Inside the cage, Kincaid's foot bore down on Elijah's chest with force.

"You've lost!" Kincaid sneered relentlessly.

Pinned and unable to move, Elijah simply smiled. "And why do you think I've lost?"

"The world has changed. Your techniques are outdated," Kincaid boasted with a smug air. "You're not like us. We are the true champions of combat."

"Really?" Elijah's smile turned enigmatic.

Kincaid felt a sudden drop in his heart at that smile. He was right to worry.

Elijah made a move that defied belief. He freed his right hand and began to press down slowly.

Kincaid, quick to react, stepped down on his chest and launched himself into the air, his left leg whipping fiercely towards Elijah's chin.

In that instant, Elijah's right hand paused. His left hand, seemingly coming from nowhere, snatched Kincaid's left ankle.

With a fierce tug backward, Kincaid's body lost control, pulled by an uncanny strength.

Elijah stepped forward, his right hand moving once more with serpentine agility, locking onto Kincaid's neck.

Holding Kincaid aloft, Elijah uttered a syllable as he bent his knees.

With a forceful push from both hands, he pressed down hard!

The sound of breaking bones crisply echoed through the sound system, reaching every private room.

Kincaid's scream of agony was his last conscious act before blacking out.

Silence enveloped the entire venue.

No one had anticipated that Kincaid, who had been dominating moments before, would be taken down by a single counterattack from Elijah.

And in such a gruesome fashion.

The sound suggested Kincaid's spine might have snapped.

It was only Kincaid's robust constitution that spared him from immediate paralysis—a fate a lesser man would not have escaped.

Elijah stood there impassively, his gaze fixed calmly ahead.

"The first match, Elijah wins!"

Following the gong, the hostess's voice cut through the silence, snapping everyone out of their stupor.

A wave of enthusiastic applause rippled through the crowd.

Such was the allure of the Cage Fighting Competition.

The so-called strong may not truly be strong here!

The presumed weak may not actually be weak here!

Only the victor is hailed as the hero.

Brianna's eyes left the ring and landed on Westley, who was nonchalantly picking his teeth, her mind reeling with astonishment.

Could his luck really be that good?

Was his wild guess actually spot on?

Westley glanced at the balance that had just hit his account and grumbled, "Stone-tablet Hand? More like Tablet Breaker!"

Despite his gripes, he couldn't hide his elation.

One hundred thousand yuan had ballooned to three hundred and sixty thousand yuan just like that.

Making money couldn't get any easier than this.

In private room number eight.

"Aimee, you're incredible. You've won 36,000 just in the first round," Edith said with a laugh.

"I think Aimee is a born betting prodigy; her luck is simply unbeatable," James chimed in, buttering her up.

Rollen raised his glass with a smile, "Miss Rogers, you're truly formidable. I have great admiration for you!"

Yet, amidst the shower of compliments and the swelling balance in her account, Aimee felt no joy.

She even felt a chill.

The brutality and horror of the Cage Fighting Competition had surpassed her threshold.

This wasn't a fight; it was slaughter!

Aimee, her face ghostly pale, grabbed her bag and rose to her feet.

Rollen caught James's eye, signaling him.

"Keer, where are you off to?" James inquired.

"I'm not feeling well. You all enjoy yourselves; I'll be leaving now," Aimee replied.

Rollen stood up, blocking Aimee's path with feigned concern, "Miss Rogers, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

It was then that Vaden, shielded from view, slipped a purple pill into Aimee's juice.

The entire operation was carried out with considerable stealth.