On a quiet night in a small alley, the tranquility was broken by the loud roar of a motorcycle engine. Brian, riding the bike, was highly focused on his mission. Mr. Sang had tasked him with giving Dave a good beating for making a mockery of the Kung Fu Association.
The Encounter:
After hours of searching, Brian finally spotted Dave’s pinkish women’s triangle underwear, illuminated by the bright beam of his motorcycle’s headlight. The light made the underwear stand out vividly in the darkness, as if it were a piece of pink fabric floating in mid-air, moving down the alley. He approached slowly.
“Hey, The Underwear!” Brian called out, his voice mixed with a hint of mockery. “Look, bro, I’ve got no personal grudge against you. It’s just a task a higher-up gave me today—to teach you a lesson.”
“What kind of lesson are you talking about?” Dave recognized Brian at a glance and replied, “The Class-B No-Good Man!”
“You seem to know me, how flattering,” Brian chuckled darkly, as he continued riding slowly alongside Dave. “Then you must realize, as a Class C fighter, you’re no match for a Class B, huh?” He looked down at Dave. “Surrender now, and I’ll show you mercy—if you want to walk out of here alive.”
“Brian, the infamous Class-B fighter, born with the rare, innate ability to grow stronger as his heart pounds faster.” Dave ignored Brian’s arrogance and began to babble. “And the one rumored to wield the Golden Eyes technique, seeing through battles—and through his opponents. Did I get that right? The No-Good Man!”
Brian grinned, clearly amused. “You know me well, The Underwear. But that won’t change the outcome.” He laughed darkly, hopping off the bike. Standing at 178 cm, his slim but well-toned body showed confidence. “You’ll leave here broken—or not leave at all.”
In fact, Dave had been actively seeking out fights to show the results of his hard training. Now, with a fight knocking at his door, his eyes lit up with excitement, his body tense and ready. “The moment is upon us—let the battle commence! Shall we?” he said, his voice calm but eager.
The Battle Commenced:
“Hold on a sec, please,” Brian said as he he took his time walking his motorcycle over to park it by the dumpster in the alley. He pulled down the kickstand to stabilize the bike before walking back to the open area of the alley, where he stood face-to-face with Dave, keeping a slight distance between them out of caution.
As Brian stood before Dave, his eyes glimmered with a faint golden light as he surveyed the quiet, dark alley. In the near silence, the only sounds were the scrambling of rats in the shadows and the faint hum of distant traffic. His gaze moved carefully over Dave, starting at his head and drifting downward, lingering on his well-defined chest and abs, which stood out under the dim streetlight as if sculpted from polished metal. Surprisingly, he realized that despite Dave’s Class-C status, those steel-like muscles might pose more of a threat than he’d first expected.
“I must not take him lightly,” Brian muttered to himself. However, as his gaze continued downward, his attention was inevitably drawn to the absurdly tight women’s triangle underwear Dave was wearing, its bright pink color sharply contrasting with the dim surroundings. Unable to resist, Brian chuckled softly and asked, “Out of all the possible outfit choices, you went with that… perverted-looking underwear?”
Dave remained calm, completely unfazed by Brian’s rude comment. “My underwear is irrelevant,” he replied coolly. “Let’s just get this fight underway, shall we?” With that, Dave slightly bent his knees, widened his stance, and focused all his energy into his right arm, pulling his fist back to gather momentum. The tension in the air grew thick and tangible as small pieces of debris swirled around his arm. He was about to unleash his special move: the Mega Legacy Punch.
Dave’s punch launched forward, his whole body sliding in sync with the force. Anticipating the strike, Brian raised both arms to block, using a muscle-twitch technique he’d learned from Frank to strengthen his defense. At the moment of impact, Dave noticed a faint golden flicker in Brian’s eyes, surprising him. Even with Brian’s best effort to stand firm, the punch’s power propelled him back a few steps, though the damage was minimal.
As Brian struggled to regain his footing, his foot unexpectedly landed on a discarded, slimy banana peel near the sidewalk curb. Caught off guard, he slipped, flipping onto his back, and fell awkwardly, his bottom striking the sharp edge of the curb. It hurt badly.
Flashback of His Life:
Even the mightiest fighters feel helpless when they slip and fall. One wrong move can make the difference between life and death. As Brian fell, his heart raced with a rising sense of dread—this could truly be the end for him. Wide open, vulnerable, and exposed, he couldn’t help but feel utterly silly for being taken down by a filthy banana peel.
Out of the corner of his eye, Brian spotted Dave stomping the ground with one foot, cracking the pavement beneath it, before launching himself forward with explosive speed. In a split second, Dave was already in front of Brian, leaving him no chance to recover from his fall.
Dave swung his leg back to gather momentum, then kicked forward with all his strength, focusing on his foot as the strike aimed directly at Brian’s face. The kick was powerful enough to crack his skull open—or even behead him entirely. As it closed in, Brian’s pupils widened, his focus faded, and his life flashed before his eyes at lightning speed. One by one, he relived the romantic moments with his hundreds of ex-girlfriends. He felt no regret—only satisfaction, ready to die happy. A contented smile spread across his face as he awaited his imminent demise.
But instead of the crushing blow, Brian felt a gust of wind brush across his face. He opened his eyes only to see Dave’s stinky foot just an inch away. Dave had deliberately stopped the kick at the last moment. With a bitter smirk, Brian fully realized what had just happened.
Second Round:
“What’s the matter? Not taking me seriously?” Brian stood up, casually brushing the dust off himself. “I hate being taken lightly. Don’t expect me to go easy on you; you might have just blown your best shot at beating me.” A hint of respect slipped into his voice, showing the regard he held for Dave.
“I want to defeat you fairly and squarely,” Dave replied. “A hollow victory means nothing to me. I won’t feel satisfied if I exploit an advantage like that. I want to face you when you’re at your best.”
The stage was reset, and round two began as they took their new stances. Brian bent down slightly, channeling all his strength into his right arm, pulling back his fist to gather momentum. Debris swirled around him as energy built up. To Dave’s surprise, the scene looked strangely familiar—Brian was using his own move: the Mega Legacy Punch. Noticing Dave’s confusion, Brian smirked and said, “I can pull off a lot more moves than this… I possess skills far beyond your comprehension.” Dave, puzzled by how Brian knew his move, found himself too distracted to prepare a counter.
Brian unleashed the Mega Legacy Punch, and his right arm launched forward like a missile, powerful enough to drag his entire body along with it. His feet slid across the pavement, leaving two distinct trails behind him. Dave instantly braced himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest to block the attack. The impact sent him sliding backward a few feet, but he remained completely unscathed. As Brian had anticipated, the move just looked flashy but lacked true effectiveness. However, his main goal had been to elevate his physical state, and he had successfully raised his heart rate to 180. Immediately after, they exchanged blows, and Brian stood his ground, effortlessly blocking all of Dave’s attacks single-handedly. Dave was struck by the dramatic increase in Brian’s speed and power, leaving him even more confused.
Blow after blow, Brian’s heart rate skyrocketed, passing 200, creating immense pressure on his health. Yet, in return, he gained extraordinary agility and strength. He knew it was time to act quickly and execute the finishing move he had foresightedly planned from the very start of the fight—a move that guaranteed his victory.
The Surprising Skyfall Kick:
Unknown to most, Brian’s Golden Eyes not only analyzed a move in detail but also allowed him to perceive every nuance—its speed, power, momentum, timing, precision, technique, and more. In short, he could replicate any move instantly, as long as he was physically capable of executing it.
With a burst of speed, he leaped atop the dumpster, stomping down hard enough to twist and crumple its metal surface beneath him. Soaring to a combined height of 6 meters, he pulled his left leg back toward his torso for balance. As he reached his maximum height, he extended his right leg straight out, toe pointed sharply, angling his body for a quick 45-degree descent, unleashing the move—Skyfall Kick.
Dave’s eyes widened in recognition—it was Caleno’s signature move. Time stood still for a moment, but he couldn’t afford to be lost in confusion. He had to act quickly as he sensed the massive, blade-like impact slashing down from above. Tensing the muscles in his arms, he crossed them in front of his chest, bending his body into a low stance. With one leg bent forward and the other straightened to plant firmly against the solid ground, he braced himself for the impending strike.
They collided with explosive force, Brian’s kick driving down like a steel spear, while Dave’s arms formed an unyielding shield of iron. Sparks erupted at the moment of impact, lighting up the dark alley as both fighters locked into a frozen struggle, muscles straining with every ounce of strength. As Brian pressed harder, his heartbeat rapidly shot up—210, 220, 230… and his power surged exponentially with each passing second. Dave refused to yield, fighting fiercely against the overwhelming force. His arms endured brutal damage, becoming increasingly visible with each passing second—skin peeling open, muscle fibers ripping apart, and bones cracking under immense pressure. His elbow twisted gruesomely, but he clenched his teeth, enduring the agony as he battled on. The pavement beneath him shattered, chunks of cement flying as the ground caved in under the weight of their clash. With one final, last-ditch, desperate effort, Dave shoved Brian away, but the sheer force sent him staggering off balance on the fractured ground.
On the other hand, Brian was thrown back into midair by the powerful repelling force. As he landed, he quickly bent his knees, spread his legs wide, and planted one hand on the ground. In one fluid motion, he shifted into a new fighting stance, effortlessly regaining his balance.
Staggering and wide open, vulnerable, Dave realized what was about to happen. A smile crept onto his lips as he acknowledged Brian’s remarkable skills, accepting his defeat and bracing for the finishing blow.
Returning the Favor:
However, this time, Brian didn’t go for the final blow. Instead, he walked over to his motorcycle, panting heavily and looking pale, yet still trying to act tough. “Consider this my favor returned,” Brian said, running out of breath. “We’re even now.” He hopped onto the bike, the engine roaring and making a loud noise that disrupted the neighbors’ sleep. “Mr. Sang might not be a fighter,” Brian warned, recovering from his short breaths, “but he’s not someone you want to mess with. Next time, choose your battles wisely.” With those words lingering in the air, he accelerated into the shadows at the end of the alley, leaving a trail of black smoke behind him.
Not far away, a motorcycle lay on its side under a flickering streetlight, its wheels still spinning lazily. Brian leaned against the lamppost, gripping his chest tightly, his face twisted in pain and exhaustion. His body was clearly suffering from the toll of the fight—he had pushed himself far beyond his limit. The truth behind his decision to spare Dave wasn’t just to return the favor; it was also because he could no longer keep fighting. Continuing could have put him in a life-threatening situation if he had gone for the finishing move. He simply wasn’t the type of guy who would risk his life for something as insignificant as a task from the association.
The Next Day:
The next day, back at the Kung Fu Association, Brian stepped into the gloomy office to collect his payment—an envelope of cash, thin and weightless in his hand, barely enough to sustain his dates for a week. Just as he was about to leave, he paused and turned to the officials. “If I may, I’d like to offer my suggestion,” he said, his voice steady and serious. “The Underwear is far too strong for a Class C fighter, from where I stand. He deserves to be promoted to a higher ranking.”
The officials exchanged glances, assessing Brian’s words with careful consideration. After thorough discussions over the next few days, they reached a mutual agreement. Dave, The Underwear, had officially ascended to the ranks of a Class B fighter. This news soon swept through the entire association.
Caleno lay on the couch at home, taking a drag from his cigarette as he read the latest news in the association’s newspaper. He smirked and muttered, “Why am I not surprised?”
Brian is a cool guy.