I’m In Charge of SCP

Both men remained in their respective positions without moving after their punches collided. After a few seconds, Spencer's arm fell down vertically as if it had been stripped of its strength and swayed at his side. The next second, Spencer covered his arm and let out a painful scream, as if the punch he had just thrown against Zhang Jue had caused him great damage.

What happened?

Both the boss and Stevenson looked at Zhang Jue in horror.

How did he do that?

"You cheated!" The boss shouted at the first opportunity.

"Woah... phew..." Zhang Jue lifted his breath feigned, and struck a closing pose stance before returning to his normal stance. He waved his fist, "It's all flesh and blood. How can it be considered cheating?"

The boss was speechless for a moment because he had no idea how exactly Zhang Jue had done it. Given Spencer's body was big, even if he had punched a steel plate, it wouldn't have been so bad that his entire arm would have been ruined.

Zhang Jue clenched his fist.

Sure enough, after contacting SCP-682, his body was already very strong. If he continued to develop like this, he would be invulnerable to swords and spears sooner or later, or maybe the quantitative change would cause a qualitative change and reach an even more terrifying level. But all this is just a theory.

Zhang Jue looked at the boss and pointed at Spencer, who was rolling on the ground, "You'd better call the medical staff right away. The bones in his arm are all shattered. Don't even think about boxing in the future. Let's see if we can fight."

The boss looked at Zhang Jue with a sinister look and finally picked up the phone on the table and yelled a few times. After a few minutes, several staff members arrived and combined their efforts to carry Spencer away.

Zhang Jue didn't feel guilty about finishing off an ordinary man with one punch. That was the way in underground boxing. It was common to kill and injure them to show you were better than them. The number of people who had died under Spencer's fists must not be small.

Zhang Jue looked at that boss again, "How about it? I won, and now you should answer my question, right?"

"The conditions just now were all proposed by you. I didn't agree on anything." The boss hummed, "Besides, who said you won?"

He clapped his hands, and a dozen black-clad bodyguards with pistols came in through the door, surrounding both Zhang Jue and Stevenson. Stevenson looked around warily, mentally calculating an escape route. As a Foundation agent, it wasn't weird that he hadn't encountered this situation before. But at this point, he had to protect Zhang Jue, and the situation was a bit troubling.

Stevenson looked at Zhang Jue, trying to determine the next step with his eyes. However, Zhang Jue sighed.

"Stevenson, don't focus on me. You big beautiful bitches are too lax about managing guns. I've been in this country for less than 24 hours, and today is already the second time I've been held at gunpoint."

Stevenson was confused about whether he should be crying or laughing. At this time, he still had the heart to spit out the security of this country and came to play underground boxing, while that may not be a not good way to spend your first day, and again these two incidents are very coincidental.

The boss hid behind those bodyguards and sneered, "What can you do if you're in a bad mood?"

"If I went into a bad mood and get mad, there will be unforeseen consequences."

Zhang Jue's words rang out. All the bodyguards with guns covered their heads and scurried around as if they had seen something extraordinary that scared them out of their wits.

What had happened?

Stevenson and the boss were again shocked by the situation that happened before their eyes. Needless to say, all this was naturally the work of Zhang Jue.

Stevenson looked at Zhang Jue's back. They had known each other only for a few hours. This Advisor of his had opened his eyes. Zhang Jue had clashed with the FBI outside the hotel, and Stevenson had thought he was a gangster who only caused trouble. Later, Zhang Jue demonstrated his meticulous, logical thinking skills in a series of analyses inside the hotel.

After coming to the boxing arena, he even demonstrated his insight and analysis. The fight just now showcased his physical skills. The group of bodyguards fell to the ground for an unknown reason and completely lost their fighting ability. This is his trump card.

He must have some kind of superpower or some SCP in his possession!

The boss realized this as well. This young man dared to come to see him. He really had some credentials. Even though all the bodyguards were intimidated by Zhang Jue's Terror Projection, he still sat calmly behind his desk. Those who could reign supreme in this underground world were no ordinary people either.

Five minutes later, the affected bodyguards gradually returned to normal and no longer dared to point their guns at Zhang Jue. It was unknown what they had gone through during that time just now.

Looking at their wretched appearance, the boss said angrily, "A bunch of useless goons! Why don't you all get lost!"

As if they had been granted amnesty, the bodyguards didn't even dare to look at Zhang Jue again, leaving the room. Zhang Jue, Stevenson, and the boss were the only ones left in the large room.

"Well?" Zhang Jue looked at the boss and said, "Can you answer my question now?"

"Okay, I take the bet and lose. I can tell you where Smith's place is."

A good willingness to bet. This time even Stevenson smiled coldly. If Advisor Zhang had not won the fight twice, probably the two of them would have been sent to the afterlife tonight.

The boss continued, "But I'm shy to say it here, Smith has long since ceased to be there, and it's useless for you to go."

"Whether it's useful or not is my business. Just tell me about it."

The boss grunted, tore off a piece of paper from the notebook on the table, and put a pen to write down an address on it.

"Go here and find a man named Henry. He'll take you there."

Stevenson looked at him, stepped forward to take the note, and handed it to Zhang Jue.

Zhang Jue didn't even look at it, stuffed the note into his pocket, and clasped his hands together, "I'm sorry to bother you this evening, goodbye."

The boss looked at him, "Aren't you afraid I'll write something random to cheat on you?"

"It's useless to be afraid. I can't verify it now." Zhang Jue laughed, "But I believe in your character. Boss, you looked like me. You're a decent and kind person. You couldn't lie to people, am I right?"

The boss let out a heave. He had lived for so many years. Zhang Jue was the first person to use the word "upright and kind" to describe him.

"Kid, you're interesting. You've got yourself a new friend." The boss said, "In the future, you can tell my name on your way out, Randall Dupont."

"Okay, but hopefully, I can get a discount when we eat at KFC." Zhang Jue laughed, "My Chinese name is Zhang Jue, and my English name is Jue Zhang. Have you ever played mahjong? The kind with only one tile left?"

...

After Zhang Jue and Stevenson left, the boss slammed the table. He had been here for so many years, but it was the first time he had been forced to this point by a young man, and it was impossible to say that he was not angry.

A shadow suddenly appeared on the background wall behind him at this time. The shadow gradually appeared in the shape of a person and finally came out from inside the wall. It was an old man with a long beard and hair, holding a long staff.

To say what the appearance is, it's like Gandalf from Lord of the Rings.

Having reached Dupont's side, ordinary bodyguards could no longer guarantee their safety, as they could already vaguely touch the unusual side of the world. When he saw that Zhang Jue had some kind of ability, his attitude immediately changed, and he told Zhang Jue about Smith's address because he knew that an ordinary person had no way to fight against that young man.

Dupont looked at the old man, "Is he also from that world of yours?"

The old man pondered for a moment and shook his head, "His power seemed different, and I've never seen that kind of energy transformation in him."

Dupont hummed, "Anyway, he's very powerful. Isn't it?"

The old man slowly nodded his head.

Dupont said, "If you two fight against each other, what are the chances of winning the fight?"

"This young man from the East, the energy contained in his body is huge. Based on my observation of him, if the two of us fight a little without any fear, the chance of winning is one hundred percent."

"One hundred percent? Then why didn't you make a move just now?"

The old man looked at Dupont. His eyes were calm, "Sir, don't be mistaken. It's his chances of winning that are one hundred percent."