On Friday evening, No. 17 arrived backstage. After making all his preparations, he opened a locker and stuffed his schoolbag inside.
He rarely left anything behind here. Every time he came, his schoolbag unfailingly contained a pair of boxing gloves, a pair of athletic pants, a can of stage makeup, and some basic medicine. When he was finished, he took everything away again.
He was like an employee who might quit and leave at any moment, never putting any unnecessary belongings at his workstation.
There were several other boxers sitting in the room, drinking or smoking, but no one was talking.
When No. 17 stood up from in front of the locker, one of the boxers finally spoke.
“You really aren’t afraid of dying, fighting Erid.”
No. 17 closed the locker door and tore open the Velcro strap at the cuff of his boxing glove. His head was slightly lowered as he stood in the shadow in the corner, his expression invisible to everyone.
No. 17 said, “If they schedule me for it, then I have to fight.”
The boxers had always had complicated feelings toward this seventeen-year-old alpha. They disliked seeing him get matches every week. They disliked how he was taciturn, always coming and going in a hurry. Yet they had no choice but to admit that he had truly earned his place through strength, one punch at a time.
In this place, there were people who could beat friends they called brothers outside the ring into cripples. There were also people driven mad by a desire for revenge, willing to take drugs before stepping into the ring.
Compared to them, the “false mercy” and “hypocrisy” they had once sneered at in No. 17 had never disappeared. Instead, they had gradually come to believe in him because of it.
Perhaps it could be called the conscience that had yet to die within a young person.
But obviously, that sort of thing had no place here. It was even deeply out of place.
Everyone knew why No. 17 had been scheduled to fight Erid this time.
Tang Feiyi had many ways of tormenting someone. If No. 17 really had some sort of secret relationship with him, this match could have been avoided entirely.
But No. 17 had simply accepted the match arrangement without a word, making no objection whatsoever.
“I’d advise you to be careful,” another boxer said. “Erid just joined the club, so this is exactly when he’s trying to make a name for himself and establish his reputation. You’re still young. Don’t end up losing an arm or a leg over a match like this. It’s not worth it.”
No. 17 listened quietly. He put on his boxing gloves, raised his head, and said, “Thank you.”
When Lu Heyang and the others arrived at the venue, the second match had just ended.
The three of them sat down in the front row. Less than a minute later, Xiaofeng came sneaking over with a tray of drinks, hunched over as he approached. As he handed them their drinks, he said, “No. 17 is fighting in the fourth match. That Erid is notorious for being vicious. A lot fewer people bet on No. 17 today.”
“Is No. 17’s pay calculated by the number of matches, or by the amount of betting?” He Wei asked curiously.
“By the number of matches. His pay for a single match is actually the lowest here,” Xiaofeng said. “He only gets a cut when the bets exceed eight hundred thousand. But that rarely happens. Occasionally, when a big boss comes to watch a match and bets on him, then he gets a share.”
“Eight hundred thousand?” He Wei found it absurd. “Most people who come here are just looking for a thrill. Even if they bet money, they wouldn’t bet that much. Eight hundred thousand in a single match? That’s obviously exploitation.”
Xiaofeng immediately put a finger to his lips.
“Shh. A place like this was never about fairness in the first place. Human lives are worthless here.”
After saying that, he slipped away.
He Wei opened his drink and took a sip, then suddenly said, “Are either of you interested in alphas? Could one of you just keep No. 17?”
Gu Yunchi said, “If you’re sick, go get treatment.”
He Wei clicked his tongue, then turned his head toward Lu Heyang.
Before he could open his mouth, Lu Heyang said flatly, “Watch the match.”
He Wei had only succeeded in making a fool of himself, so he rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the arena.
The third match ended within a few minutes. Immediately afterward, the names of No. 17 and Erid appeared on the big screen, and the audience’s cheers instantly grew louder.
Before long, two alphas walked out of the fighter’s tunnel, one after the other.
This was the first time Lu Heyang and the others had seen Erid here. He was dark-skinned and powerfully built, with an astonishing physique in terms of both weight class and reach. His eyebrows and eyes were set unusually close together, making his eyes appear deep and narrow, radiating a beast-like sense of menace.
No. 17 walked behind Erid. He looked no different from how he usually did during his matches, still wearing that thin, old pair of boxing gloves with the leather peeling and mottled from wear.
As he stepped into the octagonal cage, No. 17 raised his head and glanced toward the front row directly opposite him.
The lights in the audience were dim, yet No. 17 looked with uncanny accuracy toward a particular spot.
Amid the deafening roar and the packed crowd, Lu Heyang silently met his gaze—
Only for a brief instant.
No. 17 turned around and faced Erid.
A sharp whistle sounded.
The match began.
Almost the instant the whistle ended, Erid shot out a left hook at tremendous speed. No. 17 didn’t move far enough to evade it and was clipped on the chin, his entire body staggering for a moment.
Using the twist of his body and generating force from his waist, he immediately followed with an unexpected spinning punch that landed squarely on Erid’s left cheek.
But Erid merely tilted his head slightly.
The muscles throughout his body and face were extremely developed, so even when he was struck, the pain would have little effect on him.
Even the most excellent boxing technique could eventually have its weaknesses found. In contrast, differences in muscle mass and weight class were often the hardest things to overcome.
In a regulated match, a size difference like the one between No. 17 and Erid would never be allowed. But this was an underground boxing ring. There were no rules.
Erid began unleashing a fierce series of jabs.
Although No. 17 raised his guard, he couldn’t protect both his head and abdomen at the same time. He took several punches to his lower abdomen. Fortunately, jabs tended to lose some of their power because of their speed.
But jabs were mostly used to create an opening for the heavy punch that followed—
Sure enough, Erid pulled his left arm far back, his knuckles aimed directly at the right side of No. 17’s ribs, where the liver was located.
“If he gets hit like that, No. 17 is going to die, isn’t he?” He Wei’s expression was unusually serious. “Why would they arrange this? Did No. 17 offend someone?”
“Tang Feiyi,” Gu Yunchi said. “Did you forget what happened at the hotel last time?”
The audience suddenly erupted into louder screams.
Erid had landed two heavy punches in succession. No. 17 quickly ducked and used his arms to block them, but the force behind those two punches was simply too great.
When the second one landed, No. 17 was sent crashing backward into the cage. Even raising his arms had become extremely difficult.
Erid’s ferocity and brutality were exactly as expected.
When No. 17 was at his weakest, Erid used a vertical elbow strike with an extremely high potential for causing permanent injury. If it struck his skull, even if No. 17 was lucky enough to survive, he would be left with permanent damage.
His elbow came crashing straight down toward the top of No. 17’s head.
He Wei couldn’t help cursing.
Lu Heyang stared at the octagonal cage, his lips pressed into a tight line.
In the final half-second, No. 17 desperately pushed himself forward against the cage and tilted his head, using his shoulder to take the blow instead.
Erid’s elbow ultimately slammed into the area between the back of his shoulder and his spine.
No. 17 was like a bird struck out of the sky. He lowered his head and spat out a mouthful of blood, falling toward the ground.
But halfway down, Erid caught him.
He twisted No. 17’s left arm behind his back, then planted his knee against his back, putting the weight of his entire body behind it as he viciously drove No. 17 down to his knees.
No. 17’s left arm was twisted backward at an unnatural angle.
Driven by pain, his body instinctively tried to curl inward, but Erid’s knee was still pressing into his back, pinning him firmly to the ground so that he couldn’t move.
The harsh spotlight shone directly onto his face.
No. 17 kept his mouth tightly shut and didn’t let out a single cry of pain from beginning to end. Only blood continued to flow from the corner of his lips.
Erid grabbed No. 17 by the hair, attempting to smash his head against the floor—
A whistle sounded.
The referee entered the cage and stopped the match.
The audience continued screaming and shouting, no one knowing who they were cheering for, like a group of numb, bloodthirsty machines.
Erid stood up, raised his arms, and walked around the cage once before leaving.
No. 17 lay motionless beneath the cage, making it almost impossible to tell whether he was still breathing.
More than ten seconds later, two alphas carried a stretcher into the cage and took No. 17 away.
He Wei frowned.
No. 17 was more or less their contemporary, and seeing him beaten this badly was difficult to stomach.
He said, “No. 17’s arm must be dislocated.”
As he spoke, he turned his head, only to discover that the seat beside him had somehow become empty.
Lu Heyang was gone.
“Where’s Heyang?” He Wei turned and asked Gu Yunchi on the other side.
“Don’t worry about that,” Gu Yunchi said.
“I… I’ll take you there!”
The moment Xiaofeng saw Lu Heyang come out, he immediately called out.
Lu Heyang simply kept walking without answering or even looking at him.
Xiaofeng was still shaken by the match they’d just watched. He followed beside Lu Heyang and said, “Don’t worry too much. There are doctors here. They’ll take care of No. 17.”
The passageway was crowded with people coming and going.
Lu Heyang silently brushed past them.
A few minutes later, he reached the backstage area.
The moment he entered the corridor, he came face-to-face with Tang Feiyi.
Tang Feiyi’s expression was somewhat gloomy. He glanced at Lu Heyang.
Lu Heyang looked directly at him, then walked past him.
After taking a few steps, Tang Feiyi turned his head again and watched Lu Heyang’s back, narrowing his eyes slightly as if pondering something.
Only after Tang Feiyi had walked out through the main entrance did Xiaofeng, who had been hiding in a corner, emerge again.
Lu Heyang had walked too quickly just now, and Xiaofeng hadn’t had time to tell him that the alpha walking out was Tang Feiyi—to tell him to stop and hide for a moment.
Several boxers were standing outside the room at the end of the corridor.
One of them, an alpha who was smoking, was the same boxer Lu Heyang had seen when he came to look for No. 17 the previous week.
He stubbed out his cigarette and said, “Your friend has some really tough bones.”
His tone sounded somewhat mocking, but there was more to it than that—something difficult to describe.
He wasn’t really mocking him.
Lu Heyang walked past them and reached out to push open the door.
The lighting inside the room was still just as dim.
The air was thick with the smell of blood and antiseptic.
Lu Heyang saw No. 17 sitting on the floor against the wall. His dislocated arm had already been set. Bloodstained cotton pads and tissues were scattered around his legs.
An alpha was holding the back of No. 17’s head down while injecting something into his gland.
No. 17’s head hung low. He had a folded towel clenched between his teeth, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.
Here’s the translation:
“What did you give him?” Lu Heyang asked the alpha. This should be the doctor Xiaofeng had mentioned.
“An inhibitor. To prevent pheromone dysregulation caused by excessive pain.”
The doctor pulled out the needle, stood up, quickly gathered his things, and simply left.
No. 17 loosened his bite on the towel and spat it out. He slowly raised his head and leaned back against the wall.
His face was covered in nothing but stage makeup and blood. His cheeks were swollen, and his lips were pale.
From the moment he heard Lu Heyang’s voice, he had wanted to open his eyes, but he simply didn’t have the strength.
No. 17’s eyelashes trembled. Finally, he managed to open his eyes with difficulty and looked weakly at Lu Heyang. His mouth opened and closed slightly.
Lu Heyang crouched down and leaned closer to him.
“What?”
“…I…” No. 17’s voice was hoarse. He said, “I lost.”
Last week, when Lu Heyang had given him the boxing gloves, he’d said they were to celebrate his next victory.
But today, he had lost.
Although the result had been obvious from the beginning, he still felt somewhat disappointed.
There weren’t that many dramatic comebacks or miraculous reversals in the world. What there were more of were repeated, head-on blows that he couldn’t resist. All he could do was try to get back on his feet as quickly as possible.
He actually didn’t want Lu Heyang to see him like this.
But fortunately, right now, he was No. 17.
Lu Heyang looked at him.
“It’s okay.”
“Do me a favor.” No. 17’s throat moved. “Help me… get my schoolbag.”
“Okay.”
Lu Heyang stood up and walked to the locker beside them. From the second-to-last row, he took out No. 17’s schoolbag.
He remembered that the last time No. 17 had returned his wallet to him, he’d taken it from this compartment.
“The small pocket on the outside,” No. 17 said.
Lu Heyang pulled open the zipper and took the contents out.
It was a crumpled roll of banknotes.
“Thank you for taking me home last time and buying the medicine.” No. 17 looked as though he might fall asleep at any moment, his breathing already extremely weak. “Last week… when you came, I forgot to give you the money.”
Lu Heyang remained silent for a long time.
No. 17 felt that everything around him was very quiet. He wearily closed his eyes, silently hoping that Lu Heyang would stay a little longer.
Even just a few seconds would be enough, so that he could rest in peace for a little while.
“I’ll take you to the hospital,” Lu Heyang finally said.
“It’s fine if I just sit for a while.” No. 17 shook his head, his voice growing lower and lower. “It’s always like this.”
There wasn’t much difference.
For him, it was simply a matter of whether he’d lost more or less blood, whether the injuries were lighter or more severe. The treatment was always the same.
This time, he would probably just need a little longer to recover.
He had been mentally prepared for that long ago.
“Don’t sleep. We’re going to the hospital.”
Lu Heyang put down the schoolbag and knelt down on one knee beside No. 17. He placed his fingers against No. 17’s chin and lifted it slightly, preventing him from passing out.
But No. 17 kept his eyes closed. His entire body seemed to have no strength left to move even an inch.
Lu Heyang called him.
“Xu Ze.”
《Everyday Battle-Damaged Ze》
Smart Alpha: Add him on WeChat and transfer the money.
Xu Ze: I’ll give you cash…