Entertainment King:I Can Extract Skills from the Movies

The fourth match began.

The burly challenger adopted a defensive stance after touching gloves with Sang Biao.

But Sang Biao, who had already fought multiple matches, was running out of patience. His fiery temper flared up, and he had no intention of playing around.

With the swiftness of a pouncing leopard, he launched a lightning-fast straight punch aimed at the burly man's face.

The punch was so quick that it stirred the air audibly!

The burly man's expression changed. He hadn't expected Sang Biao to still be this ferocious. He hastily stepped back, attempting to dodge.

But Sang Biao's power was still beyond his imagination.

The straight punch was just a feint. The follow-up right hook was the real killer move!

This punch landed on the burly man's left shoulder with thunderous force.

"Crack!"

The burly man's face turned pale from the pain, and he almost fell.

While Sang Biao was renowned for his judo skills, his expertise in Muay Thai kicks and striking techniques was even deadlier.

Ignoring the referee's proximity, Sang Biao advanced with relentless aggression. A swift roundhouse kick lashed out like a whip.

The burly man's calf felt like it had been struck by lightning. The excruciating pain robbed him of his balance, and he collapsed to the ground with a groan.

Before the first round even concluded, the burly man was overwhelmed. After spitting out a mouthful of blood, he lay motionless, unable to rise.

The venue erupted in a mix of boos and curses.

Some spectators who had bet on an upset angrily hurled paper scraps onto the stage.

Humiliated and battered, the burly man's face turned crimson with shame.

Anyone else who had considered taking advantage of the situation quickly abandoned the thought.

"Fourth match: Sang Biao wins!"

The referee declared the result and gestured for staff to carry the defeated challenger—bruised, with a fractured leg—off the stage.

The injury would likely keep him bedridden for a month or two.

"Damn it, refund my money!"

"This is a rigged match! It has to be!"

"Damn it! Not even one full round!"

While the gamblers who had hoped for an upset raged, Tan the bookmaker beamed triumphantly.

"Sang Biao, after this, we're hitting the best spa in town. My treat!"

Sang Biao didn't respond, his predatory gaze scanning the crowd in a show of dominance before spitting out his mouthguard and stepping off the ring.

The match had gone as planned. The opponent was just bait to draw in more gamblers, and Sang Biao had no respect for him.

The next match was announced.

"Fifth match, who's stepping up?!"

The referee, full of swagger, shouted to the crowd, stoking the excitement.

Ma Yaowei, eager to prevent anyone else from grabbing the spotlight, rushed to the jackpot box and threw in his entry fee.

"He's had enough luck! Next up—my brother!"

The crowd jeered, thinking Ma Yaowei was planning a comeback.

Have some dignity!

Unfazed, Ma threw two thick stacks of cash onto Tan's table, glaring.

"Are you still taking bets? Hurry up!"

Tan glanced at the rising challenger, Du Sheng, before turning to Sang Biao for input.

Sang Biao, though arrogant, wasn't stupid.

He scrutinized his final opponent.

A man of no more than 73 kilograms, with average musculature, smooth hands devoid of calluses, and a frame that lacked the robust, bronzed appearance of a seasoned fighter.

He looked more like a pretty boy than a real contender.

After assessing Du Sheng, Sang Biao shrugged dismissively.

"If someone's throwing money at me, why not take it?"

With that, Tan grinned and rubbed his hands together.

"Of course, we're open!"

After consulting with the other coaches, odds were posted:

Sang Biao vs. Liang Sheng (nickname)

1.62 vs. 2.38

As with previous matches, Sang Biao was the clear favorite. A 1,000 yuan bet on him would return 1,620 yuan, while betting on Du Sheng could yield 2,380 yuan, a net gain of 1,380 yuan.

"Still chasing upsets, Mr. Zheng? This is the last match," Tan taunted Zheng Zetao, who remained stoic.

Zheng gestured for the fiery woman beside him to sit down and said flatly, "Since it's the final round, why not go all in? Sixty thousand. Do you dare to match it?"

Tan's eyebrows rose as he reevaluated Du Sheng.

Previously, Zheng's bets rarely exceeded tens of thousands. Was he genuinely confident this time or simply desperate after losing?

In Hong Kong, a 60,000 yuan wager was insignificant; years ago, million-yuan bets were common at underground fights in Kowloon Walled City.

But in the mainland, it was a substantial amount.

Tan deliberated briefly before grinning.

"No problem! Anything under a million, bring it on."

With a five-minute betting window, spectators and gamblers took their time, analyzing the fighters while enjoying professional commentary.

Du Sheng vs. Sang Biao.

In terms of physical appearance, Sang Biao was the clear favorite.

His exposed torso showcased well-defined muscles, six-pack abs, and bulging biceps, exuding raw power.

After winning four consecutive matches and being hailed as the "Burmese King of the Ring," Sang Biao commanded respect and admiration.

Meanwhile, Du Sheng appeared comparatively unimpressive.

His refined features seemed more suited for a modeling shoot than a brutal fight.

To many spectators, he looked like nothing more than a planted decoy—a "fight fixer."

As the betting odds became increasingly skewed, Du Sheng remained unaffected.

His focus was on his system interface:

[Eight Extremes Fist LV2/Blue], [Shifting Stars LV1/Purple], [Dragon Elephant Strength Skill LV1/Blue]…

Knowing he needed to ensure victory to secure his investment funds, Du Sheng carefully considered where to allocate his resources.

Among his abilities, these three stood out as the most likely to enhance his combat prowess.

After weighing the pros and cons, his gaze settled on Dragon Elephant Strength Skill.

While Eight Extremes Fist was reliable, his current level was sufficient for now.

Meanwhile, Shifting Stars, though immensely powerful, required internal energy to function, rendering it impractical at the moment.

In contrast, Dragon Elephant Strength Skill was the pinnacle of power and resilience—a combat asset like no other.

Its first level, Dragon Awakens, promised enhanced physical endurance and damage resistance.

By upgrading this skill, Du Sheng was confident he could dominate the ring and emerge victorious.

He made his choice, ready to unleash his full potential.

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