The Challenge to the Former S-Class

Frank, once a respected and feared S-class fighter, now lives a quiet, unremarkable life as a food delivery driver, riding through the city on his scooter every day. Standing at 158 cm and weighing 220 lbs, he seems like just another obese guy blending into the background. But beneath the surface, Frank carries the heavy burden of a tragic accident—an event that shattered his career and stripped him of his ability to fight.

While he can no longer engage in combat, his body still instinctively deflects attacks, granting him extraordinary defensive skills. Yet, the downside is that his sensitive nervous system makes him acutely aware of every blow, forcing him to endure the agony without sustaining any physical damage.

The spark in his eyes that once drove him has long since faded, taking his name with it in the fighter community. Now, all that remains is the dull, emotionless, and downright goofy look on his face. His puffy cheeks catch the breeze as his scooter drives along the road, creating gentle waves that ripple across his face. Absentmindedly, he sticks his finger up his nose, stirring it around without a care in the world.

On a sunny day, Frank rides his scooter down the street, delivering food to his customers as usual. Meanwhile, Dave scans the street from the opposite direction, searching for his next opponent. Suddenly, their paths cross as they pass each other, and Dave’s eyes widen in recognition. The familiar figure on the scooter is none other than Frank, the former S-class fighter. Excitement surges through him, and without hesitation, he leaps in front of Frank’s scooter, arms outstretched to block his way. Frank has no choice but to slam on the brakes, skidding to a stop just inches from Dave.

“Let’s have a fight, Frank! The former S-class!” Dave exclaims, his voice filled with eager challenge. Frank looks up at him, confusion written across his face. He steadies his scooter by planting one foot on the ground, then discreetly pulls a booger from his nose. Pinching it between his thumb and finger, he flicks it off with a quick motion, sending it flying into the air. To his surprise, it lands and sticks right on Dave’s pinkish underwear. Frank’s eyebrows shoot up, followed by a guilty grin. Fortunately, Dave doesn’t notice, but sensing Frank’s subtle expression, he asks, “What’s wrong?” Frank’s face quickly returns to an emotionless state as he calmly replies, “Nothing, sir.”

Persistent, Dave pressed on, “Please, Frank! Let’s have a fight right here! Let’s shake things up a bit!” Frank let out a deep, tired sigh and gazed at the distant horizon. “It’s been a lifetime since I last fought,” he muttered, his voice heavy with the weight of old memories. “I’ve forgotten what it feels like. That fire… that passion… it’s all gone now, blown away like dust in the wind.”

Frank’s words strike a nerve with Dave, leaving him irritated by how far Frank has fallen. To him, Frank is a total disgrace to all hard-training fighters, including himself. He notices the icy coldness in Frank’s eyes and realizes that something essential has been lost—the very essence of what it means to be a fighter. Determined to reignite that spark, Dave takes a deep breath, preparing to deliver an impassioned speech.

“Listen up, Frank! There are values we must uphold dear in our hearts—pride and dignity! Let me remind you what it truly means to be a fighter. Just give me a moment to share something important with you, will you?”

Frank nods slowly, his expression emotionless yet calm, and replies, “Okay…”

“I don’t know what happened to you, Frank,” Dave begins, his voice filled with urgency. “But it’s clear you’ve lost something important—your passion, your determination.”

He takes a breath, letting his words sink in.

“As a fighter, every day is a battle for me. I rise before dawn, while the world is still asleep, to lift weights and squats, run laps, and work on my speed. Every drop of sweat shows my commitment. I’m training to be one of the best fighters in the world, to earn respect for my strength and power.”

His voice grows more intense, fueled by his passion.

“I push myself through countless sit-ups, push-ups, and high-intensity pull-ups—and that’s just the beginning! But look at you, standing there, looking defeated. I can’t help but feel disappointed, not just for you, but for all of us who looked up to you. You need to rise from the ashes of your past; you owe it to yourself to reclaim your glory. You were once feared and respected; your name commanded attention!”

Dave’s voice sharpens, filled with a fierce determination.

“Now, think about that legacy! Do you even understand what it means to be a Kungfu fighter? It’s not just about physical strength; it’s about heart, discipline, and the will to overcome. It’s about rising up, no matter how many times you fall. I urge you, dig deep and find that fire again!

With unimaginable intensity, he leans closer, his gaze piercing through doubt.

“You can do it, Frank! You’re capable of so much more than this! Together, we can reignite that spirit, that unbreakable will that once defined you! Let’s not just talk about what we’ve lost—let’s fight for what we can still become!”

After delivering his heartfelt speech, Dave turns to Frank’s face, but all he sees is the void left by Frank’s absence. Realization hits him like a truck: Frank isn’t even listening—he’s already long gone, fading into the distance at the end of the block. “What an imbecile!” Dave shouts, his anger boiling over, fists held firm and tight as he dashes after Frank.

As soon as Dave catches up to Frank, he throws an amateur punch at Frank’s back. The moment it connects, Frank’s muscles twitch, instinctively deflecting the attack. Dave is propelled backward like a missile, crashing into a nearby tree. He’s left terribly injured—multiple bones fractured, ribs broken, his jaw dislocated, internal organs damaged, and bruises covering his body. Despite the pain, he remains conscious.

Watching Frank ride farther and farther away, a bittersweet smile creeps across his face. He finally understands the massive gap between an S-class and a C-class fighter. “One day,” he thinks, determination igniting within him, “I’ll train harder and reach that level.”

Meanwhile, Frank suddenly feels a sharp pain in his back. “Oh no, not again,” he mutters, sighing deeply. “I must be getting old—this back pain just keeps coming back.” He frowns, continuing to ride down the street, already planning to book a full-body massage after his shift.