Entertainment King:I Can Extract Skills from the Movies

Du Sheng listened to Ma Yaowei's plea, feeling both amused and helpless.

Ma Yaowei was indeed seeking help, but not because of theft, robbery, or oppression. The issue was far more unusual—he'd been dragged into a bar fight!

Yunfu borders Myanmar, and the two regions share similarities in ethnicity and language, leading to frequent exchanges.

Licheng, located about 200 kilometers from the Myanmar border, sees many Burmese businesspeople crossing over.

However, some enterprising individuals from the more chaotic areas of Myanmar also engage in less conventional businesses, such as underground bar fights.

During this era, public security wasn't as tight as it would become a decade later. Petty scams and thievery were still common at train and bus stations, and underground fight clubs were prevalent along the coast and border regions. Law enforcement often turned a blind eye as long as the establishments paid the necessary fees.

In some cases, there was even tacit cooperation.

After recovering from his injuries, Ma Yaowei couldn't sit still. Tonight, he was roped in by a wealthy Hong Kong businessman to represent him in a match.

Unfortunately, whether due to his skills falling short or his opponent being too strong, Ma Yaowei was knocked out in three rounds.

While the businessman didn't lose face over the tens of thousands he had wagered, what angered him was the taunts from the organizers.

Now, Ma Yaowei didn't dare leave, as he had boasted beforehand that he would surely win.

Worse, the businessman, consumed by gambling fever, was unlikely to let him off lightly. If the issue wasn't resolved, Ma Yaowei might end up with broken bones the next day.

With no way out, he turned to others for help. After searching in vain for a skilled fighter, he was berated by Yuan Bin, who told him to return to Hong Kong.

Desperate, Ma Yaowei remembered that Du Sheng had wrapped up his filming that day and decided to call him.

Du Sheng understood the situation. He agreed to go not just to deepen his connections with Yuan Bin and the Hong Kong film industry but also because he had his own motives.

The Snowflake Goddess Dragon production still needed investors.

Knowing that the show would become a massive hit, Du Sheng saw this as an opportunity for overnight wealth.

Having the capability to seize such a chance, he couldn't simply stand by.

As for safety concerns, the venue had security checks in place, preventing weapons from being brought inside. Even big stars like Donnie Yen and Siu Bin had attended similar events incognito—who would care about an unknown newcomer like him?

---

Swan Street, Southwest Licheng

Swan Street, named after its history as a goose farm, was bustling with activity tonight.

"Sheng-ge, the security here is pretty tight," Wang Yaoyang muttered nervously as they approached Starlight Bar, surrounded by a sea of people.

Although he knew Du Sheng had trained in martial arts for years, he wasn't sure how skilled he actually was. With their next production starting soon, any injuries would spell trouble.

Du Sheng, however, remained calm, smiling as he replied, "Relax, I won't act recklessly. Let's assess the situation first."

If he wasn't confident, he wouldn't have come at all—no amount of goodwill was worth risking his safety.

Upon entering, they encountered a security checkpoint. To ensure safety, all patrons and fighters were thoroughly searched, and items like phones and cameras were prohibited.

A subordinate of the Hong Kong businessman, Zheng Zetao, was already waiting for them. After presenting a letter of introduction, he escorted them into the venue.

The moment the glass doors to the underground hall opened, a wave of sound, heat, and the smell of alcohol hit them.

"Smash his head, you idiot!"

"What a joke! How dare this moron step into the ring?"

"Come on, Sang Biao! Finish it already!"

The underground arena of Starlight Bar was surprisingly high-end.

Spanning over 300 square meters, the space was illuminated by flashing neon lights. Aside from structural columns, the area was completely open, with a sloped viewing gallery surrounding the central boxing ring. The venue could easily accommodate 200-300 spectators, all eager to place their bets.

As Du Sheng and his companions entered, an intense match was unfolding in the ring. Two burly fighters, like mountains colliding, were grappling furiously near the ropes.

Each clash sent vibrations through the ring, as if the entire structure were trembling.

Approximately 200 spectators, emboldened by alcohol, cheered wildly.

Whenever a fighter retreated or assumed a defensive posture, they were met with boos, jeers, and outright insults.

These collective shouts created a deafening wave of sound, heightening the already tense and frenzied atmosphere.

"Ah Sheng! Over here!"

Spotting Du Sheng, a visibly distressed Ma Yaowei waved eagerly from the crowd.

Du Sheng noted the bruises on Ma Yaowei's face and the redness on his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

"You got knocked out in less than three rounds?"

That didn't seem right. The last time they sparred, although Ma Yaowei couldn't handle more than a few moves, his fundamentals were solid, comparable to a professional boxer.

Scratching his head awkwardly, Ma Yaowei pointed to the first row.

"Ah Sheng, I owe you big time for this. Let me introduce you to the boss."

He was too embarrassed to admit the details, though he was already planning to offer Du Sheng a generous reward to smooth things over.

"You're the martial arts expert Ah Wei mentioned?"

Zheng Zetao, a man in his late 30s dressed in a suit, was lounging with a scantily clad woman by his side. Noticing Ma Yaowei's return with company, he glanced at Du Sheng.

Standing tall and exuding a sharp aura, Du Sheng's presence was striking, though his lean physique drew skepticism.

The woman snorted dismissively. "He looks decent enough, but I hope he's not all show and no substance."

Having lost over 600,000 yuan already, they were being treated like easy prey.

Zheng Zetao, having witnessed true martial artists in Chaoshan, wasn't entirely doubtful. "We'll see his skills in the ring," he remarked casually.

"Don't worry, Brother Tao!" Ma Yaowei chimed in enthusiastically, eager to sell Du Sheng's abilities.

"Ah Sheng is the real deal—he floored me in just a few moves!"

Zheng Zetao gestured to a nearby seat. "Have a seat. Let's wait for this match to finish."

Ma Yaowei took the opportunity to point out the fighter who had defeated him.

"See that shirtless guy with the buzz cut? That's him."

Du Sheng looked up at the ring.

The two fighters were both Chinese, each weighing close to 80 kilograms—a standard for middleweight fighters.

One of them stood out: a tall, muscular man with dark skin, wearing only combat pants. This was Sang Biao, the man who had humiliated Ma Yaowei.

Sang Biao was reportedly a fugitive from Myanmar, notorious for his brutal tactics in underground matches.

Last year, he had fled after drunkenly killing a local arms dealer's wife.

Du Sheng's eyes lingered on Sang Biao's fists, which were flattened and covered with thick callu

ses from years of fighting.

His physique, especially his chest and bulging biceps, radiated raw power and an oppressive aura.

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