Chapter 327 Destroy Me?
On stage, Tornado looked grim. He had expected to take out Steven but missed his chance due to a slip-up.
Steven raised his hand to concede. In underground boxing, attacking someone who had conceded resulted in disqualification. Additionally, if the opponent was injured afterward, the ring wasn’t held liable; it was all on you.
So, Tornado watched as staff carried the badly injured Steven away. George rushed to the stretcher, took a deep breath, and said, "Steven, I'll get revenge for you!"
Bloodied and struggling to open his eyes, Steven apologized, "George, I'm sorry, I let you down!"
George cut him off, "You've done enough. Focus on healing; I'll handle the rest."
He signaled the staff to take Steven for treatment. Some of George's men came over to help.
George clenched his fists and stepped into the ring. The staff locked the door behind him.
Tornado, rubbing his chin, taunted, "George, right? They say you're a big deal in Houston. Today, I'm taking you down!"
With a smirk, he lunged at George, aiming a straight punch at his face. But George easily blocked it and countered with an elbow to Tornado's gut, doubling him over in pain.
George followed up with a sidekick to Tornado's head.
"Fuck!" Tornado staggered, ears ringing, and found his nose bleeding.
"Weren't you going to take me down? I'm right here!" George said coldly.
Tornado gritted his teeth. He knew George was a legend in underground boxing, but he thought it was all hype. Tornado believed he was stronger and that defeating George would catapult his fame in Houston.
Thinking of this, Tornado shouted, "I said I'll take you down, and I will!" He threw punches at George as fast as he could, but George dodged all seven or eight with ease.
"Too slow!" George said, unfazed.
"Damn it!" Tornado roared in frustration. After missing so many punches, he was running out of steam, his legs weakening. George, a seasoned fighter, saw the opening.
George delivered a steel punch to Tornado's chest, making him feel as if his heart had stopped. Tornado froze. Seizing the moment, George grabbed Tornado's head and pulled it down while driving his right knee upward.
The knee strike landed with at least two hundred pounds of force! Even a seasoned pro like Tornado couldn’t handle it. He staggered, his vision blurred, his nose crushed, and he lost five or six teeth. His face was a bloody mess, even worse than Steven’s.
Tornado knew if he kept taking hits like this, he'd die in the ring. Terrified, he was about to concede, but George was faster. He delivered a powerful kick to Tornado's abdomen, sending him crashing into the metal cage and bouncing off.
Tornado spat out blood, his vision went black, and he collapsed face-first onto the ring. He didn't get a chance to concede; he was knocked out cold.
The venue was silent for a few seconds, then erupted in cheers.
"George is the real deal!"
"I always knew George was tough, but I thought he'd lost his edge. He's still got it!"
"I thought Tornado could at least hold his own. Didn't expect the gap to be this big!"
George's men clapped and cheered, finally releasing their frustration from seeing Steven get beaten up.
Ryder joined in the applause, not surprised George defeated Tornado. If George couldn't beat Tornado, why would Ryder rely on him?
Kenneth, sitting opposite, remained expressionless. Puffing on a cigar, he murmured, "Interesting!" He glanced at his phone and noticed many people betting on George after his dominant victory. Kenneth smirked and placed a seven-million-dollar bet on his own side to win.
The spectators quickly caught on. Only a few could afford two consecutive seven-million-dollar bets, and Kenneth was the most likely person to have done that.
"Kenneth's backed by the Davis family and runs a casino. If he's betting fourteen million, he must be confident! I'm following his lead!"
"Mr. Davis still has two fighters left; they must be the aces!"
"More people are betting on Mr. Davis's side. I'm sticking with George; the payout will be higher if he wins!"
As follow-up bets poured in, the pot swelled to nearly one hundred million dollars—a record high for the underground boxing ring!
Ronald, watching the pot, couldn't stop grinning. With a hundred-million-dollar pot, he'd net eight million even if he did nothing. What a huge profit!
By this time, Tornado had been carried away. Edward glanced at the departing Tornado and snorted, "Trash!" He stretched his muscles and walked up to the ring, exuding arrogance. The staff locked the door again.
The announcer hyped up the crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen! Give it up for the second match of the night. George vs. Edward! Begin!"
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