Night had already fallen by the time Xiang Nan left the hunting grounds.
Carrying a bag of firearms slung over his back, he flagged down a private vehicle and returned to the city, then drifted around the streets like a ghost until finally stopping in front of a commercial building on a busy street.
This building was only six stories tall, but the second floor had a massive banner hanging outside. Even at night, it was brightly lit, and through the windows you could see people milling around—quite lively. There were also all kinds of training equipment inside.
It was a mixed martial arts gym.
An MMA gym is different from a traditional dojo. A dojo focuses on systematic training and building a foundation. Xiang Nan, however, didn't have enough time for a slow, step-by-step process. The system's countdown was ticking away.
People who come to an MMA gym—boxers, wrestlers, martial artists—want real combat practice and live sparring. For Xiang Nan, this was the perfect place to sharpen his unarmed fighting skills quickly, thanks to the variety of fighting styles gathered there.
Even if most of them only had mediocre techniques, picking up all their good points in a pinch would be enough for him.
After climbing the stairs, he arrived on the fifth floor and walked straight through the open door of the gym. A staff member spotted the new arrival and started to approach, but Xiang Nan ignored him and strode to the middle of the training area.
Looking around, he saw sweat-drenched fighters everywhere: some were grappling in a ring, others were ripped martial artists lifting weights, and still others—a few huge, intimidating men or elderly practitioners in martial-arts robes, or women wielding sticks—were scattered about. Clearly, they all specialized in different styles of combat.
Bang!
Xiang Nan dropped the bag off his shoulder, letting it hit the floor with a thud.
Everyone noticed this odd man entering with an unsettling aura. Drawing their attention was exactly what Xiang Nan wanted.
With all eyes on him, Xiang Nan reached into his pocket and pulled out stack after stack of crisp bills—large-denomination Jenny—and tossed them on the ground by his feet.
"Anybody who beats me in a match—fifty thousand Jenny," Xiang Nan announced.
Then, before the staff member who had followed him could say anything, Xiang Nan tossed over a few large bills to cover the gym's fee.
He'd withdrawn this money at the bank just before coming. From his observations and the body's memories, Xiang Nan had a solid handle on local prices in this world:
A fish on the street in this fishing town went for around 100 Jenny.
A standard phone cost around 10,000 Jenny.
A regular meal at an ordinary restaurant was around 500 to 1,000 Jenny.
Taking a long-distance airship might be tens of thousands of Jenny.
Some rare items, like a Hunter's License, sold for hundreds of millions on the black market. But for the average person, 50,000 Jenny was more than enough to live comfortably for a whole week—basically free money.
"Heh heh!"
As soon as Xiang Nan finished speaking, while everyone else was still stunned, a quick-thinking Black man with red boxing gloves came right over and scooped up a wad of cash. He towered over Xiang Nan, staring down at this apparently crazy guy.
He whistled. "Lucky for me."
"I don't care if you're here because you got dumped or your life's a mess. You want a thrill, I'll give it to you. But heads up: I tend to hit hard, and I'm not responsible if you end up in the hospital." He waved the money. "I'll keep this fifty grand. Let's get in the octagon."
He jogged toward the caged ring. Xiang Nan shrugged off his jacket and followed at a calm pace. Everyone else in the gym started gathering around, curious.
"You ready to get your face smashed? I'm about to start," the boxer said, raising his guard and arching an eyebrow at Xiang Nan.
Xiang Nan lifted his shoulders and raised his fists. In that instant, his gaze turned fierce, almost bloodthirsty.
Seeing that, the boxer's taunting expression grew more serious. This rich kid didn't look like some weak pushover after all.
Whoosh!
Suddenly, the boxer struck first, lunging forward in a quick sprint. He twisted his elbow and raised his fist in one smooth motion. His arm coiled up like a spring before smashing into Xiang Nan's upper arm, a heavy blow.
Xiang Nan narrowed his eyes, countering with a return punch. But the boxer kept perfect balance and dodged with a sidestep, making Xiang Nan miss.
Smack!
Next, a sweeping kick slammed into Xiang Nan's unguarded side, pushing him back several steps.
"You've got some skill… Guess this money isn't gonna be as easy as I thought," the boxer chuckled before pouncing again.
They began trading blows in the ring. Xiang Nan's moves were based on his previous life's modern military combatives—though his version had been honed on real battlefields, focusing on killing, with no wasted motions or formal structure. Every move existed to neutralize a target.
Still, it included many refined techniques: basic fighting stances, controlling or breaking joints, ground holds, and elements of jiu-jitsu and boxing.
The problem was that Xiang Nan's new body wasn't his old one. Although this host was an orthopedic surgeon with decent physical stats, it still paled compared to Xiang Nan's previous life. Meanwhile, the boxer in front of him was clearly a seasoned pro, so Xiang Nan was briefly on the defensive.
"Figures… Even your everyday fighters here are on a higher level than in my old world," Xiang Nan thought, feeling the pressure. But he was more excited than worried.
He appeared to be defending passively, but his eyes were locked onto the boxer's footwork and core power. He was learning—taking in how the boxer controlled balance, advanced, retreated, and linked punches and kicks.
"Even after all those years on the battlefield, I never ran into an unarmed fighter this good," he marveled, right before the boxer smashed a fist into his abdomen.
Feints, weaving footwork, trap steps, cross-steps—the guy was switching them up constantly, leaving Xiang Nan's counters floundering.
"Interesting… You're not really fighting me. You're just stealing my technique," the boxer said, licking his lips with a grin. He'd realized Xiang Nan wasn't just brawling—he was studying him.
"If you pay me enough, I can teach you, you know," he teased.
After all, the guy had spent over a decade mastering boxing; who was Xiang Nan to think he could just pick it all up by watching?
Xiang Nan retreated to a corner of the cage, dropping his aching arms for a moment. Suddenly, he copied the boxer's stance, lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"Your little half-baked techniques aren't worth my money," he said flatly.
That made the boxer's face fall. "I hope you keep that arrogant mouth of yours when you're crawling on the mat," he growled, moving in for another attack.
Outside the ring, the crowd watched with growing interest. At first, they'd thought Xiang Nan was just some random idiot, but the skill he was showing was real. He'd definitely earned his place here.
Heavy blows whistled through the air as they traded hits. From Xiang Nan being outmatched, to going toe-to-toe, to eventually surpassing the boxer with better angles and footwork, the tide was turning. It all happened in under half an hour.
"This guy—!" someone watching below muttered.
He was using the boxer's own style against him, not just imitating, but surpassing him.
What was terrifying was how quickly Xiang Nan had "stolen" such a solid foundation of combat skills. Learning top-tier fighting techniques required daily practice over many years. You couldn't become an expert overnight.
Unless he'd been faking from the start—he was actually a skilled boxer, just pretending to be new.
"Being a wolf in sheep's clothing," a bald man observed, stroking his chin.
"We misjudged him. Nobody shows up here at night throwing money around without a plan," another added seriously.
Thud!
A few minutes later, Xiang Nan landed a quick punch from the boxer's blind spot, smashing into the man's face. Blood and a few teeth sprayed out, and he collapsed on his back, unconscious.
Panting lightly, Xiang Nan—who now had a few scrapes on his face—pulled off his gloves. He rolled his neck and looked down at the crowd. "Next."
"…"
The gym grew silent for a moment.
"I'll roll his fifty grand into this next match. Whoever beats me now gets a hundred thousand Jenny—and so on," Xiang Nan said coldly.
Whoosh!
Before he'd even finished speaking, an old man on the sidelines stepped lightly onto his toes and vaulted nimbly into the ring, showing off surprising agility.
"You said it yourself—don't back out now!" the old man warned, flexing his wrists. "Also, don't blame me for taking advantage of your fatigue. You're the one who asked for a gauntlet."
"Beat me first, then we'll see," Xiang Nan replied calmly.
"Hah!"
In the next instant, the old man let out a quick cry and unleashed a powerful chop.