Entertainment King:I Can Extract Skills from the Movies

In the ring, Sang Biao's opponent was a fierce-looking, bulky bald man whose mountainous build made him seem equally formidable.

As the match began, the bald man launched an aggressive onslaught. Each punch carried immense force, eliciting cheers from the crowd.

Contrary to expectations, Sang Biao, who had defeated Ma Yaowei in three rounds, adopted a more cautious approach. He focused on footwork, skillfully dodging the bald man's attacks, and occasionally resorted to clinching tactics to drain his opponent's stamina.

Though his sporadic counterattacks were sharp, he clearly prioritized defense over offense.

This defensive strategy, however, didn't sit well with the audience.

In an environment fueled by adrenaline and excitement, the crowd craved ferocious, head-to-head clashes.

"Sang Biao's defending his streak. Win five matches, and he takes the entire jackpot!"

Despite the jeers, Ma Yaowei understood Sang Biao's game plan.

The jackpot now held at least 100,000 yuan!

Du Sheng nodded slightly, analyzing the match.

From his perspective, Sang Biao's strategy was highly professional—calm, methodical, and tightly defensive, indicative of advanced training.

In contrast, the bald man's aggressive strikes revealed a lack of discipline and finesse, as he recklessly burned through his stamina.

By the third round, Sang Biao seized an opportunity.

After dodging the bald man's overextended attack, he delivered a devastating right hook to the jaw.

Thud!

The bald man collapsed instantly, struggling to get up but ultimately failing.

"Match three: Sang Biao wins!"

"Next up, match four! Who's challenging?"

The referee, holding a microphone, called out to the crowd with enthusiasm.

The fights at Starlight Bar were no-holds-barred contests, with only one rule: no weapons allowed. Fighters could use any method to incapacitate their opponents.

The appeal lay in its raw intensity and unpredictability—a mutated form of combat sports.

Along the border, where factions vied for dominance amid chaos, martial arts and gambling thrived.

Events like these had spawned variations like cage fights, animal brawls, and even death matches.

The more extreme the contest, the more it captivated audiences.

Licheng, being a border city, was no exception.

While this bar sought to maintain a semblance of order, its unique rules still attracted a fervent following.

At the entrance to the ring stood a prominent jackpot box, initially seeded with 3,000 yuan.

Spectators had to contribute to the box to watch the matches, with a new fight announced every time the jackpot reached 10,000 yuan.

Challengers had to pay a 2,000 yuan entry fee, ensuring fairness and deterring fraud.

The prize for any fighter winning five consecutive matches was simple: they could empty the jackpot.

The rules disregarded gender or weight class, focusing solely on ability.

The strong walked away with the money; the weak left empty-handed.

Having won three consecutive matches, Sang Biao was now two victories away from claiming the prize.

"Who's stepping up next?"

The crowd buzzed in anticipation.

In addition to the jackpot, wagers placed by spectators added another layer of excitement. Tonight's bookmaker was Zheng Zetao's business rival, a rotund man named Tan.

Judging by Tan's smug grin, he'd been raking it in.

Zheng Zetao, having lost 600,000 yuan to him, was visibly sour.

Turning to Du Sheng, Zheng said, "Beat him, and I'll give you an extra 100,000 yuan!"

Ma Yaowei couldn't help but gasp. Previously, the offer had only been 50,000 yuan—this was a generous jump.

Although the country's economy was thriving as a global manufacturing hub, the average monthly salary for white-collar workers was still under 4,000 yuan.

Du Sheng, however, remained nonchalant.

"What if I win all five matches?" he asked calmly.

The room fell silent.

Not just Ma Yaowei and Wang Yaoyang, but even Zheng Zetao and the scantily clad woman turned to stare at him in surprise.

After a moment's pause, Zheng replied, "As long as Tan keeps betting, I'll pay you 100,000 yuan per match!"

Zheng wasn't worried about greed; he feared incompetence paired with overconfidence.

Judging by Du Sheng's poised demeanor and sharp movements, Zheng suspected he wasn't bluffing.

Besides, Tan's smugness was grating—this was a chance to wipe that smirk off his face.

"Go for it, Sheng! I'll bet everything I have on you. We'll split the winnings!"

Ma Yaowei was practically bouncing with excitement.

Knowing Du Sheng's prowess, he saw this as a golden opportunity to recoup his losses. His earlier injuries seemed trivial now.

"Sheng-ge—"

Wang Yaoyang hesitated, torn between concern and the allure of 100,000 yuan per match.

Noticing Ma Yaowei already pulling out his bank card to place a bet, Wang held his tongue.

If even an outsider like Ma had such faith in Du Sheng, doubting him now felt inappropriate.

Du Sheng waved off Wang's concerns and addressed Zheng.

"Mr. Zheng, it's a deal. Here's to your success."

He wasn't worried about Zheng's ability to pay—just the gold Rolex on his wrist was worth a fortune.

As for the unlikely event of being stiffed, Du Sheng thought, What a happy problem that would be.

Fame wasn't an issue either. With no recording devices allowed and only a few hundred attendees, the impact on his reputation would be minimal.

Just as Du Sheng prepared to step forward, a burly man cracked his neck and stepped into the ring.

"Times almost up and no challengers? Guess I'll take this one!"

A regular at the bar's fights, the man had no qualms about capitalizing on Sang Biao's fatigue.

Each match allowed up to five three-minute rounds, and Sang Biao, known for his ferocity, had already expended considerable energy.

Confident in his own record of four consecutive wins just days prior, the man believed he could outlast Sang Biao.

Moreover, he'd timed his challenge to exploit a loophole.

If no one stepped up within the five-minute interval, Sang Biao would automatically win by default, regaining time to recover while advancing toward the jackpot.

Having watched numerous fighters fail to achieve five consecutive wins, the man knew the jackpot held at least 100,000 yuan.

The lure of such a sum was irresistible.

Tossing 2,000 yuan into the jackpot box, the challenger donned a mouthguard and gloves, stepping into the ring with practiced ease.

"Notice those gloves?" Ma Yaowei muttered, having just returned from placing his bet.

"They're at least half as thick as standard ones. Damn it, that's why I got caught off guard last time. One punch knocked me off balance—otherwise, no way I'd have lost so quickly!"

Du Sheng glanced at the gloves and nodded.

Standard boxing gloves not only protect the wearer's hands but also cushion 35-60% of the impact.

With the gloves used here, only about 30% of the force was absorbed, amplifying

the pain and damage.

The thinner gloves, combined with the venue's preference for fast-paced, brutal fights, made every blow count significantly more.

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