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墨書 Inktalez
There is an ancient saying in China: "The first to strike is the strongest." This is not just a hollow phrase, but a solid strategy that has proven effective time and again, never going out of style.
The one who takes the initiative often possesses a strong momentum, striking fiercely and swiftly. By catching the opponent off guard, they can gain the upper hand before the other side has a chance to defend themselves, sometimes even defeating them in a single blow.
Taking the initiative is best exemplified by Guan Yu from the Three Kingdoms. In ancient times, Guan Yu, known for "Warm Wine Slays Hua Xiong," defeated renowned generals Yan Liang and Wenchou with just a few strikes, earning him the title of a war god. What enabled him to achieve all this? While his exceptional martial skills cannot be overlooked, what is even more crucial is his mastery of taking the initiative. Often, before the enemy is prepared, he would charge in alone on horseback, catching them off guard. Even if they managed to evade one strike, they could not escape the subsequent blows that followed.
Hua Xiong was known for his extraordinary martial prowess and had single-handedly defeated many of Yuan Shao's men, leaving them in disarray. His skills were undoubtedly impressive, but when faced with the martial god Guan Yu, he couldn't even block a single strike and fell from his horse.
Yan Liang and Wenchou were both well-rounded warriors and among the most famous generals of their time. Being called a famous general requires countless battles and victories to earn that title. Yet, despite their formidable reputations, they fell to Guan Yu without being able to withstand three strikes. Were they truly that weak? Of course not; in terms of martial strength, they were not far behind Guan Yu. After all, they were also brave warriors who could hold their ground against thousands of troops. Their defeat came down to seizing the initiative—losing one step meant losing every step thereafter.
Currently, Shorty finds himself in a similar predicament. In desperation, he unwittingly employed this signature technique of the Martial Saint.
With pent-up energy, the man displayed immense strength. Each punch landed with force, and within moments Shorty was left bruised and lying on the ground gasping for breath.
In the second round, he won again; however, due to his reckless actions, he had sustained serious internal injuries and could barely stand. Blood trickled from his mouth as he clumsily wiped it away and looked at Thin Bamboo Stick, saying, "What do you have to say now?"
Thin Bamboo Stick was taken aback. Shorty was not weak among them; he was at least at Black Belt level. Initially thinking he would easily dominate his opponent, he found himself confused as Shorty collapsed without understanding what had happened.
Under normal circumstances, this situation should have been clear-cut. However, one should never underestimate how shameless some people can be. After a brief moment of daze, Thin Bamboo Stick's eyes shifted as he regained his lewd smile: "Hehe! Of course I keep my word. You showed us through your actions that you can continue fighting; therefore, you won the last round." He paused for effect, squinting his eyes and grinning even more lewdly. "But it seems this round is a draw~"
A draw? What nonsense! Was Thin Bamboo Stick out of his mind? Their fighter was down for the count while the man stood there despite his injuries. Was there really any doubt about who won?
"Draw? I think you're out of your mind. Which eye do you see as a draw?" the big man scoffed.
Thin Bamboo Stick showed no shame at all and said, "Which eye? I see it with both my left and right eyes, even my ** saw it. If not, let's have another round. If you can still fight, I'll consider you the winner." As he spoke, Thin Bamboo Stick exaggeratedly gestured.
How shameless and despicable! Does winning only count if one can still fight? Is it necessary for someone to defeat everyone in a Daoist boxing match to be considered the champion? Don't be ridiculous; that would be exhausting.
However, this wasn't a formal competition, nor was there an official referee. As long as he could swallow his pride, he could act this shamelessly, completely lowering everyone's standards.
"You!... Pfft!" The big man was already heavily injured and had barely managed to hold on for one round. Standing was a struggle, and now, overwhelmed by anger, he spat out a mouthful of blood, clutching his chest and stumbling back several steps before being supported by the crowd to avoid falling.
This gave Thin Bamboo Stick an opportunity to mock him, saying, "Look at you! You can barely stand! Our side has indeed lost combat capability, but at this rate, even without anyone fighting you won't last much longer, right? Isn't this still a draw?"
What kind of twisted logic is this?! Since one side has already lost combat capability and the other side has absolute control in the fight—able to capture or kill at will—does it count as a draw just because he can't hold on for a few more minutes? Nonsense.
The crowd supported the big man while a young man in his twenties, full of vigor, stepped forward. Killing Intent radiated from him as he declared loudly, "Come on! Fight me!"
Seeing this imposing aura and fierce demeanor, Thin Bamboo Stick couldn't help but squint his eyes. He didn't dare let an ordinary fighter step up and instead called over a young man in his thirties wearing a Black Belt.
This was one of their coaches; the numbers on his black belt indicated his skill—Black Belt Second Dan.
At this level, he was already quite skilled; it took years of hard training to achieve this. Facing Heroic Youth, he matched the intensity with a loud shout of "Ha!" and charged forward with large strides.
Heroic Youth was well-prepared and wouldn't let his opponent take the initiative. He pushed off with his front leg while bending his back leg, one hand by his side and the other in front of his chest—a standard military boxing stance. It turned out he was also a soldier!
Undeterred by the opponent's imposing presence, Heroic Youth engaged in a fierce exchange with Second Dan, employing the techniques he had practiced. He blocked a kick aimed at him with one hand and immediately leaned forward, delivering a punch aimed at the opponent's solar plexus.
This was a vital point; a strike here would be extremely painful and could easily cause someone to lose their breath. It was indeed a technique designed to incapacitate the enemy by targeting critical areas.
However, Second Dan was no ordinary fighter. After his first kick was blocked, he swiftly jumped on one leg to evade the punch, then executed a turn in mid-air to dissipate the force, landing on one foot and delivering a kick directly to the back of the young man's head.
The young man felt as if his opponent had vanished before him, and then his mind went blank as he experienced a ringing in his ears and a momentary lapse of consciousness. When he regained awareness, he found himself on the ground, his body aching all over, having already lost the match.
Face observed the situation and was met with mocking laughter from the others. Enraged, the young man stood up, ready to continue fighting, but a strong hand pressed down on his shoulder.
"Leave it to me now," said a voice that, though aged, was filled with vigor.
(To be continued.)
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