A grunt of pain, Tang Long's eyebrows clenched tightly, a pained expression crossed his face, his shoulder was dripping with fresh blood, sporting three holes as deep as a finger. His opponent's desperate strike had just pierced his shoulder with a pair of sharp iron claws, but the opponent had also been hit by his "Cannon Fist" and was now unconscious on the ground, his fate unknown.
In Black Market Boxing, there was no mercy, only cruelty. A dead boxer was no different from a dead mangy dog; no one cared about the losers' fate. Only the sight of fresh blood could awaken the devil in people's hearts. The crowd shouted "Fierce Tiger's" name in unison. A daring girl even ran up to the ring and hugged the bloody Tang Long.
