Chapter Twenty-Nine: A Long’s Painful Ordeal (Bonus Chapter for 500 Collections)

"Qiong!" Aoki Si knocked on Qiong’s bedroom door. As usual, there was no response from within, but he had grown accustomed to it by now. "Qiong, dinner is ready. I’ll leave it at your door."

After a brief silence, a barely audible "Mm" came from inside.

Aoki Si set down the tray of food and, as if recalling something, added, "By the way, Qiong, your room needs tidying up. If there’s too much trash piling up, it’s not good for your health. If you don’t want to clean it yourself, I can do it for you."

He remembered his first encounter with Qiong, when he had glimpsed the messy room strewn with snack wrappers.

Qiong’s voice came through, clearer this time: "Don’t…"

Was that “don’t let me clean it,” or “don’t let you clean it”? Aoki Si scratched his head with a wry smile. Glancing at the time on his phone, he realized his appointment with Matsuyama Iwa was approaching. He didn’t dwell on it and spoke gently, "If you can, just leave your dishes on the table downstairs after you eat. I’ll be heading out after dinner and won’t be back until around ten tonight. Your aunt and uncle gave me your number, and you should have mine too, right? If you need anything, just call me. Oh, and don’t forget to run a bath for yourself later."

"Mmm…" In her room, Qiong stared at the game character on her computer screen that had just been killed, sighing as the aroma of dinner drifted to her nose.

After Aoki Si headed downstairs, Qiong opened her door again, bringing the dinner tray inside. She looked at the trash bags scattered across her room and sighed in dismay, muttering irritably to herself, "So annoying…"

But as soon as she tasted the first bite of cashew shrimp, her eyes curved into crescent moons. "Delicious… This guy really knows how to cook…"

With a satisfied sigh, Qiong lay lazily atop her giant teddy bear, her stomach round and full, just as she heard Aoki Si leave the house downstairs.

She frowned slightly, curiously pulling back the curtain to watch Aoki Si, hands in his pockets, dressed in loose sportswear, walking off into the distance. Not until he disappeared from view did she return her gaze to the trash bags in her room, troubled once again.

After chewing her finger thoughtfully for a while, Qiong finally logged out of her game, her expression languid as she began to tidy up her bedroom.

Meanwhile, Aoki Si jogged all the way to the Matsuyama Fighting Club.

At the entrance, the receptionist greeted him with her ever-professional smile. Aoki Si exchanged pleasantries and headed straight to the third floor.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, a wave of heat swept over him.

"Hit him! Go, Arlong!"
"Nice shot!"
"Beautiful move!"
"Death Spider, lock him up! Death Coil!"

Aoki Si was taken aback by the crowd, which had doubled since yesterday. Had he accidentally wandered into an underground public event?

He squeezed through the throng, and when he finally saw what was happening, his expression turned peculiar.

The very Arlong who had beaten him black and blue yesterday was now being pinned and ground into the mat inside the octagon by a tall, lanky man. Matsuyama Iwa, bald-headed, tattooed, and as fierce as ever, was acting as referee with a furrowed brow.

Saying Arlong was being “ground into the mat” was no exaggeration—it was literal. The tall, thin man, with his long arms and legs, had Arlong’s arm in a vice grip, legs locked around his body, executing a textbook armbar on the mat. Arlong desperately gripped his own trapped left hand with his right, sweating profusely, but to no avail.

The cheers from the crowd grew louder as the lanky man gave a sharp yank, fully extending Arlong’s arm before continuing to apply terrifying downward pressure.

Arlong’s left arm was nearly bent backwards. Just before his elbow could be dislocated, he slapped the mat hard in defeat.

The tall man released him excitedly, leaping up to cling to the cage and letting out a triumphant roar. Matsuyama Iwa, expressionless, crouched to check Arlong’s condition. Seeing he was uninjured, he relaxed, stood, and beckoned Arlong and the victor to his side. Grabbing the winner’s arm, he announced loudly, "Death Spider wins by TKO!"

Arlong, full of frustration, spat his mouthguard onto the floor, ignoring Matsuyama Iwa’s irritated glare as he stormed out of the cage and toward the locker room.

"That concludes tonight’s match! Congratulations to Death Spider for winning the two hundred thousand yuan prize!"

The crowd erupted in celebration. The tall victor flashed a cocky grin at Matsuyama Iwa, but said nothing as he stepped down from the cage, pulled long pants and a tracksuit from his backpack, changed quickly, and approached Matsuyama Iwa. He collected the envelope containing his prize, waved to the crowd, and sauntered off.

Aoki Si watched the swaggering winner unobtrusively, then glanced at Matsuyama Iwa heading to the locker room. After a moment’s thought, he followed.

As soon as he entered, he overheard Arlong and Matsuyama Iwa arguing.

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Five hundred favorites now... Not too many, not too few. Hoping for the next five hundred to come even faster! If you keep the recommendations and favorites coming, I’ll add more chapters. Here’s the deal: if we reach 100 recommendation votes today, I’ll post three chapters tomorrow! Currently, the vote tally is 687; if we reach 787 by midnight, you’ll get three chapters tomorrow!