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墨書 Inktalez
Ye Mingshang intended to intervene, but someone stepped forward, so he chose to observe.
The person who appeared was an elderly man, around seventy years old. He was somewhat plump, with white hair and beard, yet he exuded a strong spirit and presence, giving off an air of authority. There was a hint of iron-bloodedness about him, suggesting he had been a soldier.
Seeing the old man step forward, the opposing group laughed mockingly. "Hahaha! Old man, are you here to be a clown?"
"Go back to your rocking chair and stop causing trouble."
"Come on, don't let your heart act up and die on us."
Listening to the mocking remarks from the group, the old man's expression remained calm. He always wore a nonchalant look, his voice slightly low and hoarse as he said, "What? Are you afraid?"
Upon hearing this, the laughter from the opposing side abruptly stopped. They looked at the old man with cold expressions. A young man squinted and said, "Old man, do you want to die?"
The old man showed no reaction and simply replied, "Then come and try."
The group felt irritated by the old man's indifferent attitude towards them. However, due to his age, they were hesitant to strike him—not out of respect for the elderly but because they feared that if he died, they would be in trouble.
The old man calmly stated, "You all go ahead. My death has nothing to do with you. Are you brave enough?"
This statement provoked the group. A short-haired youth with earrings stepped forward and asked, "Old man, are you serious?"
The old man replied, "A gentleman's word is hard to retract."
"Hah!" The youth immediately took a stance, his eyes fixed intently on the old man.
The old man maintained his calm demeanor; however, his gaze seemed somewhat vacant. Although bright, it carried a hint of dullness.
With a shout, the youth charged forward and aimed a high kick at the old man's side face. He showed no mercy; if an ordinary elderly person were struck like this, it would likely spell disaster.
However, at such a moment, there were only two types of people who dared to stand out: one was a brave warrior who could hold the line alone, and the other was a fool who only saw the sky from the bottom of a well. The old man was clearly the former. He gently blocked a kick from the Earring Youth with one hand, then brought his other elbow down directly onto the opponent's knee.
"Ah!" The young man immediately cried out in pain as he fell from mid-air.
The old man also released his grip, and the youth collapsed to the ground, rolling around while clutching his knee and crying out in agony.
The fight was over; everything had happened too quickly. A master of Karate at Second Dan had been taken down in one move by an unknown old man—this was nothing short of a miracle.
Both sides stared in shock, their eyes wide open, mouths agape as if they could fit an egg inside. Some rubbed their eyes vigorously, fearing they were seeing things or dreaming. Whether it was the opposing Koreans or their own group, everyone wore expressions of disbelief.
Originally, he was already quite old and looked somewhat dazed; no one had high hopes for him. The opponents aimed to take him down easily without causing any harm or trouble. As for his own people, although they wanted him to be tough, he was after all quite elderly and appeared somewhat confused. His physique didn’t seem capable of fighting; he was slightly overweight and of average height, resembling an ordinary neighbor.
Yet, who would have thought that this seemingly senile old man could take down a Taekwondo Black Belt at Second Dan with just one move?
"No! This must be a coincidence; it has to be a coincidence!" Thin Bamboo Stick shouted incredulously.
The opponents clad in Karate uniforms also looked equally astonished and shouted defiantly. However, in response to their raucous taunts, the old man calmly said, "You can come at me whenever you like."
How arrogant! How confident! With that single statement, the old man silenced the chaotic shouting from across the way.
An older man shouted loudly, "I'll go!" He stepped forward into the center of the arena to face the old man directly, tension palpable in the air.
Ye Mingshang also watched the old man with curiosity; he too wanted to know what kind of magical power this elder could unleash.
Seeing the aggressive approach from across the way, the old man showed no signs of fear—no, it should be said that there was hardly any change in his demeanor. He maintained a dazed and somewhat wooden expression as if nothing bothered him at all.
"Come on," the old man beckoned with his hand.
The Elderly Youth suddenly seemed to be stimulated by something; his eyes widened as he let out a loud roar and charged forward.
The inherent techniques of Taekwondo were most impressive when it came to legwork. The young man stood on one leg while bending his other knee back and forth rapidly, creating a dazzling display that showcased his speed.
Swinging left and right, kicking back and forth, even though he was just moving in place, it was enough to showcase his skills. One foot was like a heavy weight, firmly pressing down on the ground, completely immovable, as if it were rooted in place. The other foot moved with the speed of the wind and the swiftness of lightning, kicking rapidly and producing a whooshing sound; not only was it fast, but it was also powerful.
With each kick, he attempted to disrupt the old man's line of sight, but the old man's eyes remained blank and dazed, as if he saw nothing and cared for nothing, appearing completely like a senile elder.
The Elderly Youth sneered, retracting his swinging legs and rushing a few steps closer to the old man. In his arrogance, he did not use his feet but instead threw a punch at the old man's face. However, the old man merely sidestepped with an expressionless face, evading the attack effortlessly.
Another punch came flying toward the old man's face. The old man tilted his head to dodge the strike and then formed his hand into a claw shape, grabbing hold of the youth's wrist with one hand while delivering a punch to the youth's armpit with the other.
The youth jumped up in pain, suddenly rising half a head higher; this angle was actually quite suitable for an attack, but he had no time to consider it. The old man took advantage of this momentum to pull him down and then delivered an elbow strike to his chest, causing him to gasp for breath.
"Cough cough!" The Elderly Youth coughed vigorously, feeling as if his heart were on fire.
This was not over; after striking the youth's chest, the old man pushed him away with a palm strike that sent him stumbling backward several meters into the crowd.
"Cough cough!"
Even so, he continued to cough violently. Although the old man appeared dazed and lacked any fighting spirit, when he struck, it was truly fierce—every move aimed for vital points. Each punch and kick flowed seamlessly into one another, leaving the opponent with no chance to retaliate.
The Elderly Youth was a Fourth-Dan Taekwondo Master, having surpassed the ranks of novice practitioners within three dan levels; he was undoubtedly an experienced expert. Such masters were rare internationally, yet there was one in this Taoist temple. Even more astonishing was that he had lost to a demented old man in his seventies; it was truly unbelievable.
(To be continued.)
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