Chapter 120 - 118: As Long as You Don’t Hit Us
The opponent planted his feet, his other hand quickly following up with a straight punch aimed at Blair’s chest.
Blair Golding’s eyes were sharp. Instead of retreating, she pressed forward, closing the distance. When they were less than two inches apart, she twisted to the side, her hands fluidly wrapping around his thick arm. Before he could react, she delivered a reverse palm strike, slamming the heel of her hand upward into his jaw!
The man’s tall frame was thrown backward. The precise force of the blow knocked his mouthguard loose, sending it flying out of his mouth.
But Blair Golding didn’t let up. She grabbed his recoiling body and yanked him forward. A second later, her elbow was cocked back like a bow, and she drove it into the most vulnerable point at the center of his chest—his solar plexus.
"Ugh—"
The man let out a muffled grunt. His stomach churned, and a mouthful of bile spewed from his lips.
Blair Golding formed a two-finger jab with her middle and index fingers and struck again, hitting a pressure point under the man’s raised arm. The strength instantly drained from that side of his body, and he tilted uncontrollably to the left.
The opening pulled his neck down, completely exposing the right side to Blair Golding.
Blair Golding launched into a spinning jump kick, channeling all her momentum into her heel as she rotated in mid-air, and smashed it into the side of his neck.
The man collapsed to the ground, and the crowd erupted in thunderous cheers.
"BLAIR!"
"BLAIR!"
"BLAIR!"
The match was over unbelievably fast. To be more precise, Blair Golding hadn’t given her opponent a single moment to breathe.
She was well aware of the disparity in strength and stamina between men and women. A protracted fight would only put her at a disadvantage, so her opening combination was designed with the sole purpose of ending it quickly.
When she was completely focused, she could exploit every opening. Once in close quarters, she could rapidly strike all his weak points.
Cecilia Sterling was utterly shocked. She’d had a feeling that Blair was special, but she never imagined she was *this* incredible.
In just one minute, she had taken down a professional Boxer who was a head taller than her and rippling with muscle.
’What about an ordinary man, then?’
"Ordinary men? I could take five at once."
In the private locker room, Blair removed her chest wrap. Fading bruises, remnants of an old injury, were still visible on her back.
Cecilia Sterling and Estelle Goodman watched her change. Finally, Estelle spoke softly, "Cecilia and I were so worried about you at first. We were terrified you’d get beaten black and blue. I had no idea you were this incredible."
Blair, who was packing her things, glanced up. "I’m pretty good, I guess, but I’m far from the best. Getting beaten black and blue is a common occurrence. You’ll probably get to see it for yourself soon enough."
Cecilia Sterling frowned, unable to bear how casually Blair said that.
Blair had won this fight, but Cecilia had seen her stats on the screen: 27 wins, 6 losses. The payout odds were 1-to-3, which must have made her one of the fighters with the lowest payouts because of her high win rate.
But she had also lost six times. Cecilia couldn’t bear to imagine how formidable those six opponents must have been, or how much pain Blair had to endure.
Once she finished packing, Blair stood and faced the silent pair. "This is the real me. Someone who fights in an underground ring for money. Do you still want to get to know me? Do you still want to be my friends?"
Cecilia Sterling and Estelle Goodman exchanged a look, then nodded in unison.
Cecilia said, "I don’t know what happened to make you resort to this to earn money, but I know a woman wouldn’t choose this life unless she had no other choice. You have your reasons, and maybe it’s not our place to know them yet, but we still want to be your friends."
Estelle Goodman nodded. "Don’t feel pressured. We won’t force you to tell us your story. Right now, my heart just aches for you. I’ve never seen anything like what happened today. Just watching was enough to make my heart pound with fear, but you’re in the thick of it, living through it. I really admire you. I do."
Hearing their words, Blair suddenly let out a soft laugh, her gaze softening considerably. "You two are interesting. You’re not the first people I’ve brought here, but everyone else chose to stay away from me after seeing this. I got used to being alone, and I guess I subconsciously put up a wall between myself and other people."
"Aren’t you afraid I have violent tendencies?" Blair asked suddenly.
The question caught them off guard. "Do you?" they asked in unison.
Blair pursed her lips. "Maybe. But I’d never lay a hand on my friends."
Cecilia Sterling and Estelle Goodman exchanged a smile. "As long as you don’t hit us, we’re good."
Just then, the door to the locker room was pushed open without a knock.
A bald, middle-aged man wearing glasses came in. His eyes immediately fell on the two unfamiliar faces of Cecilia Sterling and Estelle Goodman. After sizing them up for a moment, he asked, "Are these the two friends you mentioned, the first-timers?"
Blair nodded. "Bowman, I know the rules. It won’t happen again."
Bowman snorted. He didn’t say anything else, just pulled a thick stack of paper money from his bag. They were all crisp, low-denomination bills.
"Twenty dollars. Take it."
Blair took the stack, weighed it in her hand, then casually tossed it into her bag. "I’m not fighting for the rest of the month," she said. "Something came up at home. I’ll get in touch next month."
Bowman looked at her. "There’s a ’Muay Thai’ champion coming next month. You interested? Fifty if you win, but even more if you lose!"
Blair shook her head without a second thought. "Not interested. Bowman, I’ve told you before, I don’t throw fights."
’These fights that use some "champion" as a gimmick are always rigged from the start.’ Blair had her principles, and one of them was to never, ever throw a fight.
’She studied Martial Arts; she’d be damned if she ever faked a match!’
"Cut the holier-than-thou crap. Money is what matters, and you need it, don’t you?" Bowman stepped closer. "Do this one for me, and I’ll give you a hundred dollars. How about it?"
Blair swung her shoulder bag in a casual arc, startling Bowman enough that he scrambled back two steps. She settled the strap on her shoulder and said coolly, "Not negotiable. Find someone else."
Then, she turned to Cecilia and Estelle. "Let’s go."
Bowman didn’t press the issue, just called out as she reached the door, "Give it some thought! Let me know if you change your mind."
The same van as before dropped them off at the nearest bus stop, just in time to catch the next bus.
"Blair, you make twenty dollars for a fight? What happens if you lose?" Estelle asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Half. Ten dollars."
Estelle was a little surprised. "That’s still a lot!"
Cecilia Sterling stared out the window at the passing streetscape, unsure of what to say. The image of Blair in the ring, facing that huge, powerful opponent, flashed through her mind. Her chest ached as if a heavy weight was pressing down on it.
Estelle suddenly spoke up again. "Hey, should we go get a late-night snack?"
Blair asked, "Are you buying?"