Chapter 529: Earning Extra Pocket Money by Doing Commercials

Chapter 529: Earning Extra Cash by Advertising

“A hundred million dollars in appearance fees?”

Monster thought Meng Fan might have lost his mind.

The highest single-match appearance fee in UFC history was Conor McGregor’s 3.5 million dollars, and even when “The Notorious” crossed over to boxing to face Floyd Mayweather, he only got 30 million.

That was a crossover to the boxing ring, against Mayweather, on the world’s most expensive stage, a commercial win-win between two events.

Those who commanded appearance fees in the hundreds of millions were invariably products of commercial promotion, and always on the more flexible boxing stage.

UFC, though hailed as the ultimate all-around fighting arena and the most recognized platform for producing the world’s strongest fighter, simply couldn’t match boxing in commercial value.

Take Monster, the current UFC top dog—his highest single-match appearance fee was just 2 million dollars.

And here was Meng Fan, asking for a hundred million—fifty times that!

If that wasn’t madness, what was?

Monster was left speechless by Meng Fan’s words.

Meng Fan seemed to read Monster’s hesitation, patted him on the shoulder, and said, “Just take the message back. Don’t overthink it—you’re not the one calling the shots anyway.”

“Oh.”

Monster nodded, watching Meng Fan leave, feeling something was off.

He’d come to challenge, yet somehow it felt like this whole affair had little to do with him.

“What did he say?”

A short UFC executive who had accompanied Monster saw him come out and asked curiously, “What did you two talk about?”

Monster, walking out, repeated what Meng Fan had said.

“Is he insane?”

The short executive’s expression mirrored Monster’s.

Monster didn’t echo the sentiment but tossed out Meng Fan’s words: “Don’t overthink it—you’re not the one calling the shots. Take the message to the higher-ups.”

With that, he felt a wave of relief.

…

The news of Monster Joey Howard meeting Meng Fan at the judo competition instantly pushed the “world’s strongest” debate to a peak of public opinion. As for what they said, rumors flew thick and fast, each claiming to have overheard it firsthand.

The matter was already eye-catching, and this encounter was like a collision of planets, imbued with an unspoken, mysterious significance, dubbed by netizens as “The Battle of God and Monster.”

Not just in China and America, but the whole world was watching.

Except for a tiny minority, 99.99% hoped a real outcome would emerge.

…

“Agree to it!”

Upon hearing Meng Fan’s demand, the UFC boss reacted entirely differently from Monster and the short executive. After a brief thought, he agreed at once.

A hundred million in appearance fees was, of course, astronomical—unprecedented in UFC history, a figure many thought would never appear—but he agreed, and with surprising alacrity.

The reason was as simple and direct as ever, the same goal from start to finish: to ride Meng Fan’s popularity and create even greater buzz, boosting UFC’s fame and ratings.

A hundred million dollars in appearance fees? Expensive, but within acceptable limits!

“Wait!”

The boss called back the person about to inform Meng Fan of the agreement. “Don’t tell him privately. Hold a press conference instead. Let him earn the money, but not so comfortably—we need to spite him!”

From the start, they hadn’t approached this with the win-win mindset of that previous crossover match. Even initially, they hadn’t invited Meng Fan to fight in UFC on equal terms. Now, though their attitude might have leveled, their methods remained far from fair negotiation—they kept provoking Meng Fan, forcing him to fight rather than sitting down to hash out interests and details.

This time was no different. At the press conference, they immediately revealed Meng Fan’s demand, showcasing his “money-grubbing face” to the reporters. Then they spouted lines like “it’s not about the bread but the pride,” acting as if they’d been forced into agreeing. They even colluded with journalists to imply, through loaded questions and answers, that Meng Fan was the mastermind behind the earlier hype.

The media, never inclined to paint Meng Fan in a good light, seized the chance to employ their biased pens. Soon, Meng Fan’s avaricious, troublemaking visage was splashed across the pages.

After that, of course, they went all out to hype the “Battle of God and Monster” to another peak of public frenzy. Ticket sales, copyright deals, broadcasts, live streams, ads—all flooded into UFC. The executives were stunned; they’d thought the hundred-million fee was a long-term investment, but now it seemed they’d recoup costs almost immediately!

They couldn’t help but marvel at Meng Fan’s immense popularity and buzz.

Yet, just as UFC was on the verge of celebration, trouble arose from Meng Fan’s side—not that he backed out, but that he wanted to fight earlier.

UFC had announced the match for a week later, a short preparation time, but enough to maximize hype and handle other profitable ventures. Meng Fan, however, proposed fighting on the third day after their press conference, when they were only halfway prepared.

Suddenly, UFC was in an uproar. The boss personally went to Meng Fan’s hotel, only to return dejectedly.

They had unilaterally announced the match, used the media to smear Meng Fan, and pressured him into fighting, thinking it was a sure thing. But they never expected Meng Fan to shamelessly change the date—and crucially, they hadn’t paid him his appearance fee yet, nor had any agreement fixed the time and place.

In theory, moving it up wasn’t impossible, but the problem was they’d already signed so many ad, live-stream, and broadcast deals. Ticket sales were less of an issue, but changing the date, while not incurring double penalty fees, would definitely cost them. That loss pushed back their hopes of recouping costs.

Finally, on match day, when Meng Fan appeared at the arena, UFC breathed a collective sigh of relief. They now believed he was exactly the kind of person who might simply not show up.

“Meng of China, why did you agree to this fight? Was it really for the money?”

As Meng Fan entered, the planted reporters swarmed him, all asking similarly aggressive questions.

Meng Fan smiled and nodded. “It’s a rare trip—nice to earn some extra cash on the side.”

“What do you say to the rumors that you orchestrated this match for attention?”

“I just love seeing you guys hate me but can’t do anything about it, so you just curse.”

…

UFC, sensing things slipping out of control, quickly “escorted” Meng Fan inside, feeling as if the reporters had been bought off.

Finally, he was in the ring, under the spotlight.

The referee read the rules and was about to signal the start when Meng Fan pulled out a microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, just a few minutes of your time. With such a crowd today, I’d like to run a little advertisement.”

(End of this chapter)