But his head was still held in Jack’s grip. When Jack regained his senses and tried to choke him further, he was immediately stopped as Natural Curl used his free hands to grab Jack’s wrist, breaking free from the hold. Then, he started punching Jack’s face fiercely, but Jack blocked with his forearms.
Seeing that punching was ineffective, Natural Curl quickly switched tactics, reaching for Jack’s left leg in an attempt to use a heel hook to lock his opponent’s left leg.
This move, if executed lightly, could fracture the kneecap; if strong, could tear ligaments. However, Jack, lying on the ground, quickly kicked with his left leg to break free from Natural Curl’s hold, preventing the lock from taking shape.
Natural Curl, failing in his attack, wanted to pounce again and land a punch to get Jack back into a lower position to continue attacking. But Jack, lying on the ground, took the hit head-on, firmly clung to his attacking right hand, preventing him from withdrawing, and locked his neck like a vice with his legs.
Trapped, Natural Curl glared angrily, gritting his teeth and exerting force with his legs, stood up, and immediately stretched out his right leg towards Jack’s face.
Jack quickly released his hands, sidestepping to avoid the stomp. But he then used his legs to knock down Natural Curl, gaining the upper position. He wrapped his right arm around Natural Curl’s neck, with his left hand and left leg pressing down on Natural Curl’s right hand, intending to use a cross armlock. However, Natural Curl resisted with his right leg on Jack’s back, forcing Jack to shift his weight. When his right hand was released, he grabbed Jack’s waist like a barrel, flipped him over, regaining the upper position, and began pummeling Jack’s face, entangling once again in a series of locks and counters.
The two looked like two snakes endlessly tangling and rolling on the ground. The spectators were entertained, but only Gustav and Simmons, who had been in the ring, knew how dangerous this round of fighting was. A slight misstep could mean broken bones or a fractured leg.
This was no longer boxing, it was purely a mix of wrestling and jujitsu.
Gustav dared not let them continue fighting, quickly rang the bell to stop the round, fearing further fighting might lead to someone getting killed.
Hearing the bell, people on both sides immediately pulled them apart, each returning to a corner of the ring, sitting and panting heavily.
"Come on, rinse your mouth with some drink, knock him down in the next round."
After removing the mouthpiece, someone handed Jack a glass of iced wine. The voice sounded familiar, but Jack didn’t mind and gulped it down.
After drinking, he turned to return the glass and realized the person was a local mercenary, not from Valentino’s crew, and the drink was strong, burning his throat.
The big guy, taking the glass, gave Jack a thumbs up.
"Go for it, brother, I’ve got faith in you, teach him a lesson. I’ve never liked that guy."
Jack nodded, half-understanding; he felt he won respect through his strength. Many mercenaries from the other side encouraged him before, and despite his nearly arena-bashing behavior, which could anger anyone, it actually made them look at Jack differently.
Back among his team, the big guy was immediately pulled aside by Potato.
"Damn, you’re shameless, giving a guy who’s just exerted himself some alcohol? Have some sportsmanship."
The big guy snorted, "You don’t understand a thing, the real match starts outside the field, okay? Besides, I didn’t spike it, it’s just a mix of red + white + beer."
"Like when you gave expired bread to your opponent before a match?"
"That was SixSix’s own problem; him getting an upset stomach had nothing to do with me. I ate the same bread the day before."
"But what if he drinks your booze, goes berserk, and wins?"
"Damn, didn’t think of that."
When Lin Miao arrived, Gustav immediately walked over to him, pulled out a few thousand euros, and said,
"Mr. Lin, please help, let’s call this match a draw, alright?"
In any bar, under such arena-bashing circumstances, trying to escape is impossible. Winning against so many, and thinking of running after meeting a tough opponent, is not that easy.
Seeing their dangerous intents, Gustav asked the maid to invite Lin Miao down.
He figured it out: these are ruthless people. They’re the "no matter if I can win or not, you better kill me if you can" type. Even though their faces showed no anger or grievance, the bloodthirsty vibe made him shiver inside.
If anything happened to Jack, Gustav could not expect to stay at the Wild Wolf Bar.
Mrs. Wells could eat him alive.
Lin Miao accepted Gustav’s money with a smile, raised the wad of bills, and announced to everyone present,
"Mr. Gustav said, tonight the drinks are on him, drink as you please."
The bar didn’t have any expensive varieties of drinks. The players weren’t into that, as long as there was something to drink it was fine. Some didn’t even drink alcohol, preferring just drinks and iced water, costing Lin Miao almost nothing.
"To the boss, may he have health and prosperity!"
The crowd celebrated wildly, leaving Jack and Natural Curl, who hadn’t settled their score in the ring, feeling a bit depressed. However, this feeling was soon supplanted by something else.
Lin Miao’s gaze hardened. Though he knew the mess they were involved in probably couldn’t be avoided, he was somewhat surprised that both Ogata and Wagako were willing to give him a heads-up. It seemed those cans and the tea from the recent raffle weren’t for nothing.