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墨書 Inktalez
A circle of punches came in, and the young man's eyes showed a moment of panic. The burly man thought he had the upper hand, but then the young man suddenly smiled.
The burly man felt a sense of doubt, but once he started attacking, there was no turning back; he was determined to fight to the end. He threw his punches without holding back, becoming even more ferocious.
This was originally a good opportunity; if that punch landed, it could have ended the fight. Unfortunately, the young man's strength lay not in brute force but in speed and explosiveness. Despite being much younger and weaker than the burly man, he had the advantage of youth.
The young man did not dodge or evade; instead, he leaped up, stepping on the burly man's wrist with one foot while delivering a heavy kick to his chest with the other. Since he was not in a defensive stance, the burly man was pushed back several steps by the kick, feeling a dull pain in his chest. After all, this force combined both his forward momentum and the young man's kicking power, which was no small matter.
However, was it really over just like that? Far from it. After landing his hit, the young man did not give the burly man a chance to catch his breath. He jumped forward again and aimed a kick at the burly man's face. Just as the burly man regained his balance, he had no choice but to raise his hands to block.
This kick connected with his hands but also struck his face. Those who often get into fights know that when you hit someone in the face or head, regardless of whether it hurts or not, the opponent will instinctively close their eyes. This is a reflex action that even trained fighters cannot avoid. Once his eyes closed, he lost his chance; the young man remained standing on one leg and began delivering multiple kicks to the burly man's head, finally landing one on his temple.
The burly man suddenly felt a ringing in his ears; he couldn't hear anything and everything seemed slow. His body's reactions were even slower; his hands and feet felt uncontrollable. The temple is a critical point on the human body with weak defenses; even a slight impact can cause lingering pain, let alone being kicked hard like this.
The burly man's head was spinning; he couldn't regain his senses for a long time and stood there like a living target.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
One kick after another landed on the burly man's body. Even though each kick caused only minor damage, their cumulative effect made him feel unbearable pain.
"Ah!"
In response to the pain, the burly man shouted and suddenly unleashed far more strength than usual, landing a punch on the young man.
The young man let out a muffled grunt as his body flew back slightly, stumbling several steps before crashing into a crowd where others helped him up.
His condition was not good, and the big man was also in a worrying state. Although he had severely injured the young man in the end, he had also been used as a human target and beaten for quite some time. While it was not visible on the outside, he had already sustained significant internal injuries; he was just enduring the pain and standing there.
The young man glared at him fiercely, feeling wronged. He believed that he had been unfairly treated; throughout the fight, he had been dominating his opponent, but because of that one punch, he had suffered serious injuries and might not even be able to participate in future matches.
The big man forced himself to endure the pain and glanced at Thin Bamboo Stick. "Alright, you should apologize now."
The one resembling an Overseer, Fellow, was momentarily stunned before sneering dismissively. "Apologize? For what?"
"You said earlier that if we won, you would apologize and take down your sign."
"Hmph! When I said 'win,' I meant defeating all of us. You only managed to beat the weakest kid here." The person looked disdainful, mocking him with a smirk and exaggerated gestures.
"Exactly! You only defeated the youngest among us. What’s there to be proud of?"
"Seriously, what’s so admirable about an adult bullying a child?"
Listening to their merciless mockery, the big man's face turned pale with anger. The rage aggravated his injuries, and suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his chest as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
"Ouch! Clearly injured but still pretending everything's fine. This round is a draw; who will come up next?" Thin Bamboo Stick seized the opportunity to twist the truth, insisting that the outcome of the match was a tie.
"Damn! This is too shameless."
"How can they be so shameless? We clearly won."
"A bunch of sore losers; it's infuriating!"
Listening to Thin Bamboo Stick's words, the big man’s face turned ashen, wishing he could go over and punch him twice. Thin Bamboo Stick noticed that the big man was seriously injured and deliberately provoked him, saying, "If you’re not convinced, then let’s have another round. Regardless of the outcome, I’ll count this as your victory. What do you say?"
What a scheme! Thin Bamboo Stick was truly cunning. The big man had clearly won the match; although he was also heavily injured, he was obviously in much better shape than that young man. Yet, Thin Bamboo Stick deliberately declared it a draw. Then he used psychological tactics to try to get the big man to fight again despite his injuries. How could he possibly win under such circumstances? If he fought, he would definitely lose the next round; one win and one loss would still be a draw. If he refused to fight, it would remain a tie, thus falling right into Thin Bamboo Stick's trap.
With no way to advance or retreat, the best choice in such a situation would typically be to retreat strategically. A draw is still a draw; although it might feel like a loss, at least his injuries wouldn’t worsen. If he forced himself to continue fighting, his injuries would take much longer than ten days or half a month to heal.
However, the bloodiness of Chinese men often outweighs their rationality. Some things must be done even if they seem impossible. This big man was already a hot-blooded fellow; being bullied by a child like this was humiliating enough, and now being stepped on by Korean—how could he possibly back down? He shouted loudly, “Whoever isn’t afraid of death, come on!”
The big man forcibly suppressed his injuries with internal energy and stood firm in the arena like a rock.
“Let’s take on a Sick Cat~ I’m ready!” A middle-aged man who was not very tall and slightly plump stepped forward. His hair was dyed in various colors and his face was covered in bumps; he didn’t look appealing at all.
However, despite his unremarkable appearance, his words were sharp and mocking right from the start.
The big man's eyes widened in fury, his hair standing on end as his face turned crimson. He wasn’t angry per se; rather, it was due to suppressing his injuries with internal energy that caused him to feel this way. Time was short; he needed to end this quickly.
Once both sides took their positions, the big man didn’t wait for the opponent to attack and charged straight forward without any caution this time. His situation was different now; he only had a few minutes left. If he couldn’t defeat his opponent within that time frame, he would completely lose his fighting ability and worsen his injuries.
The big man rushed forward directly and threw a punch aimed at the opponent's face—fast and urgent. The Shorty opposite him didn’t react in time and was hit squarely in the face, causing blood to gush from his nose. As he opened his mouth to speak, three bloodied teeth fell onto the ground.
(To be continued.)
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