Chapter 687 I Yield


    Albert nned to bait the most skilled boxer in ck Boxer Gang and make a wager with him.


    Bronte came here with a clear goal. It was to get rid of ck Boxer Gang for Jarett. He wasn''t here


    to fight a passerby.


    Thus, he questioned whether Kingsley was a member of the ck Boxer Gang.


    "I''m not," Kingsley answered readily. "However, I can also make the decision if you want to bet on


    anything rted to ck Boxer Gang."


    C0pyright ? 2024 N?v)(elDrama.Org.


    "F*ck! Stay out of it if you aren''t one of them!" Bronte cursed. His patience was on thin ice.


    He took a step forward and red at Kingsley. "This is yourst warning, punk. I won''t fight a


    civilian. Just f*ck off or I''ll dly break the rest of your damn body."


    Kingsley was unmoved by Bronte''s'' threat. "Enough talk. You said you want to make it quick."


    "You asked for it!" Bronte was a firecracker. So, Kingsley''s taunting words immediately lit his temper


    as it zed in all its fiery glory.


    Then, he curled his hands into fists and rushed at Kingsley like a gust of wind.


    Kingsley smirked at the sight. He never once considered dodging. Instead, he steadied his stance


    for a counterattack.


    Bronte yelled as he threw his punch, targeting Kingsley''s head. He wasn''t holding back at all.


    The audience gasped at the sight.


    They could almost see Kingsley''s end. An ending that had Bronte beating his brains out.


    Even Zephyr narrowed his eyes in anticipation.


    Kingsley raised his right hand to parry Bronte''s punch.


    The next second, Bronte heard his wrist bone crack as sweat beads immediately trickled down his


    forehead.


    The parry sent him staggering a few steps backward before he regained his bnce. He no longer


    attacked Kingsley after he regained his bnce. Rather, he stood still on the spot without striking.


    Bronte''s right hand was shaking uncontrobly. The audience couldn''t see it but Kingsley, his


    opponent, saw it clearly.


    Bronte suppressed the pain and hissed. "W-Who the hell are you?"


    "It doesn''t matter." Kingsley rested his hand behind himself and continued, "What matters most is


    your will to continue to fight against me."


    When he spoke those words, he felt his hands, which he hid behind his back, go numb.


    The discovery shocked him. It was the first time he received such a fierce attack that his hands


    tingled. This Bronte guy is pretty good.


    Bronte''s face went pale at Kingsley''s words. He could still fight. Still, the hands were the most


    important weapon of a fighter, but now, he broke his wrist. Thus, if he continued dragging on the


    fight, it would only worsen his injury, causing irreversible damage to himself.


    Questions filled the audience''s mind when all they saw was the two men staring at each other.


    "What''s happening? Why aren''t they continuing? It''s only one punch!"


    "That''s right! What are they waiting for?"


    As for Zephyr, he noticed the injury in Bronte''s wrist with ease. Therefore, he shouted at the


    younger man, "Enough, Bronte. Get out of there now!"


    Bronte gritted his teeth after hearing Zephyr''s instructions. Atst, he gave in and waved his hand to


    announce his surrender. "Fine! You''re better than me. I yield."


    His words provoked an outcry among the audience.


    His statement was ringing in their ears.


    His confession ignited the anger within the audience.


    "How could he say that? How did he lose? They barely fought!"


    "That''s it! Are they messing with us right now? I''ve bet all my money on the game."


    "Darn! They''re plotting against us! They manipted the results only to take our money."


    The audience was roaring with fury.


    Kingsley gestured for Bronte to speak. "Speak up. Tell them why you lost."


    Bronte might be a hot-tempered guy, but he was also a dignified fighter. He wouldn''t deny the fact


    that his skills were inadequatepared to Kingsley''s. He saw no point in gaining the audience''s


    favor with lies.


    Therefore, he raised his twisted right hand to let the audience see before exining through gritted


    teeth, "I have sustained a wrist fracture. I''m in no condition to fight. That''s why I admit defeat."


    The heckling crowd immediately fell into silence at the sight of his injured wrist.