In the middle of the room stood a towering, muscular young man with long hair. He was shirtless, his muscles bulging like iron lumps, a patch of black curly hair on his chest, and six solid abs on his stomach. He looked fierce and robust.
At that moment, he was bowing his head, intensely fiddling with his manhood. Shawn Young couldn’t see his face clearly, but just like everyone else—both inside and outside the room—his attention was completely captured by the guy’s jaw-dropping moves. Shawn’s mouth hung open, nearly joining the others in a shocked outcry.
That guy’s manhood could only be described as a "colossal beast." If that wasn’t enough, "super strong and freakish" would probably do the trick.
The craziest part—he sat squarely on a stool, legs spread, with a dumbbell weighing at least ten kilos balanced on his manhood. Holding his breath, he was swinging it up and down, but neither his legs nor his waist moved at all. Yet, with every seductive "hng-ha, hng-ha" he made, the dumbbell bounced rhythmically, perfectly in sync with his breaths.
"Hng-ha... hng-ha..." The crowd around him stared wide-eyed, their mouths unconsciously echoing his seductive chants, like some kind of group morning drill! And their attitude and expressions were totally into it!
The man kept up his "hng-ha... hng-ha" for dozens of reps before finally stopping. He took off the dumbbell, and his manhood instantly sprang up, pointing straight at the ceiling, looking wild and fierce—leaving the crowd gasping and shrieking.
At that moment, the man finally lifted his head and said proudly, “Heh heh… I think I just heard someone wants to challenge my title as Gun God! Am I right?”
Shawn Young finally got a clear look at him. The guy was actually pretty decent-looking, with a chiseled face, thick eyebrows, and big eyes. He had two bold black whiskers on his cheeks, like Zhang Fei, giving him a rugged vibe. This was Gus Stallion—the new Inner Mongolia transfer student in Southern University’s Journalism Department, famously known as the “Mongolian Stallion.”
Shawn couldn’t help but marvel to himself, “Whoa! Even a macho guy like this is working as a gigolo? Looks like being a gigolo is actually a pretty promising career!”
Before Shawn could say anything, Alex Easton had already stepped forward, boldly standing in front of Gus Stallion. He declared, “That’s right! Today, the new king of the History Department is here to challenge you! Heh, let’s show you what a real Gun God looks like!”
Gus Stallion sneered, “Oh? History Department’s King of the Gun? I remember a cocky little peashooter from your department lost two grand to me just a couple days ago! Heh, is there really someone fiercer than that peashooter? Is it you?”
Alex Easton shook his head and said, “That wasn’t me, that was my bro! Heh, our History Department is full of talent. Our dorm’s got the new King of the Gun, but he’s always been low-key, flying under the radar. But seeing you show off like this, he just couldn’t hold back anymore. His appearance today will show you—what a true invincible King of the Gun looks like! I’ll be the bookie, five grand says my bro beats you!”
Gus Stallion raised his thick eyebrows and laughed, “Alright! Since you put it that way, I’m looking forward to your History Department’s new King of the Gun! I’ll bet too—heh, I’m putting down ten grand! Betting I’ll win, no contest!”
“Holy crap! Ten grand! He just dropped ten grand like it’s nothing! Damn, no wonder he used to be a gigolo—he’s loaded! Maybe I should consider becoming a gigolo after graduation!”
“Whoa! Ten grand! That’s some serious cash! I’m in! I… I’ll bet a hundred…”
“Amazing! Truly amazing! He really is the Gun God! Not only is his gun fierce, but his guts are too! Screw it, I’ll bet five hundred, betting Gun God wins!”
“Holy crap… Ten grand! That’s enough for me to buy all the hookers I want! Screw it, I’ll bet a thousand!”
The crowd of rowdy guys immediately erupted, scrambling to place their bets. But almost none of them even bothered to look at the challenger—they all threw their money on Gus Stallion, because they just couldn’t imagine anyone beating him!
At that moment, Danny Dean and Jake Jewel each grabbed Shawn Young’s shoulders, pushed through the crowd, and walked right up to Gus Stallion. Alex Easton smugly slapped Shawn’s shoulder and announced to Gus Stallion, “Heh, take a good look—this is our History Department’s King of the Gun! The pride of Room 321—Shawn Young!”
“Him?? That guy?” Gus Stallion suddenly shot up from his seat. He really was a giant—standing, he was at least six-foot-three. Shawn Young was pretty tall himself, around six feet, but Gus Stallion still squinted down at him from above, his presence totally overwhelming Shawn!
“Shawn Young? Shawn Young is the King of the Gun for the History Department? Did I hear that right?”
“Huh? That guy’s supposed to be the King of the Gun? Don’t make me laugh—his thing’s probably barely as big as two of my fingers!”
Plenty of guys in the crowd who knew Shawn Young started jeering, all looking totally unconvinced.
“That’s right! It’s Shawn Young! Hey, don’t judge a book by its cover, you know. Just because Gus Stallion’s huge doesn’t mean he’ll win! You gotta focus on what’s inside! Know what ‘inner strength’ is? Judging by your dumb looks, you clearly don’t have much going on inside…” Alex Easton rattled off, wagging his tongue at the crowd.
“Alright, enough with the chatter! How do you want to compete? I’ve got cash to collect!” Gus Stallion interrupted Alex Easton’s endless babbling.
Alex Easton paused, then quickly turned to Shawn Young, asking, “Bro, how do you want to compete against him?”
Shawn Young was totally at a loss. He’d been thrown into the spotlight without any warning, no clue what was happening, and zero confidence he could win. He was seriously nervous.
Right then, Jake Jewel leaned in close, clutching Shawn Young’s arm and whispered, “Bro, this time I’m not betting three grand—I put down ten grand on you to win! You’ve gotta pull through for me, man! If you lose, I’m screwed for the month… But hey, if you win, after Alex Easton gets his cut, you’ll still walk away with at least ten grand!”
“Ten grand!!” Shawn Young was totally stunned by that number. He was so broke lately, he’d almost considered robbing a bank. He gulped, then decided to just go for it and said to Gus Stallion, “You name it! I’ll compete however you want!”
“Oh ho… Any way I want, huh? You’ve got guts! In that case, I won’t go easy on you. No need to compare size—I can tell yours isn’t going to beat mine. I’ll give you a handicap. Let’s do the dumbbell challenge from earlier! No moving your waist or legs—whoever lifts higher and harder wins! Simple enough?” Gus Stallion sat down, sneering.
“Fine! Let’s do it your way! Actually, even if it was a size contest, I wouldn’t be afraid of you!” Shawn Young said, grabbing a stool and sitting across from Gus Stallion, quickly whipping out his own weapon!