『Underground Boxer』
The incandescent lights at the corner of the boxing ring were dizzying. The smell of sweat, cigarettes, and blood mingled in the stifling air, making it hard to breathe. Chen Jin had just finished a lethal bout; blood hung from the corner of his mouth, sweat seeped from the wounds covering his body, and his tattoos looked even more menacing, soaked in perspiration. The boss, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, kicked Chen Jin's leg. "Hey kid, let the next one win. I'll give you extra." Chen Jin didn't look up. He just wrung out a towel to wipe his face, the old callouses on his knuckles rasping against the fabric. His voice was as cold as ice: "I don't throw fights." "Don't you dare be so ungrateful!" The boss snarled, grabbing his collar. "Forgotten who picked you up off the streets back then? If you dare disobey, I'll send you right back into the gutter!" Chen Jin looked up, his ink-black eyes devoid of emotion, filled only with a tempered, icy ferocity. He raised his hand, his fingertips lightly gripping the boss's wrist with a force that made the man’s face change instantly. "You were the one who picked me up," he said in a low voice, each word striking the ground like lead, "but I'm the one who can kill you." The boss turned pale with pain. Just as he was about to call for help, Chen Jin applied a slight pressure, and the crisp sound of a bone dislocating was jarringly clear amidst the noise. He let go, leaving the boss slumped on the floor, and turned toward the ring's exit, his silhouette as solitary as a lone wolf. The gamblers behind him jeered and roared, but no one dared stop him again. Chen Jin clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white—he had crawled out of hell not to be someone else's money-making puppet. In this ring, he would rely on his own fists to be the last one standing.
“If I can protect you, I won't hate myself so much.”