Counterfeit Hero

No longer could he command everyone’s immediate support. Charging at Fatty were only four diehard lackeys of Monroe, whose brains and foresight were notably lacking.

These four unlucky fellows, only once they surged from the crowd, realized no one else had moved with them. They wanted to halt, but it was too late. Waiting for them were Fatty’s bowl-sized fists.

Like a meteor, his fist crashed into the face of the first student.

The student’s face splattered like a smashed tomato, blood spraying everywhere!

With a cold sneer, Fatty ghosted into the midst of the four, flattening the first one head-on, then spinning and elbowing another student in the face. This blow was even harsher; the student let out a scream that hardly sounded human, clutching his face as he fell. His nose was broken, and several teeth were knocked out.

”Boom,” another bone-chilling thud echoed as the third student was kicked in the face, sending him flying. That face could no longer be called a face, the power of the kick far surpassing that of fists and elbows!

Fatty was doing it on purpose, aiming specifically for their faces!

In an instant, Fatty grabbed the last one’s hair and viciously yanked it down, smashing his knee towards the student’s face.

Everyone involuntarily closed their eyes, already knowing without looking that with this knee hit, the last student’s life was effectively over!

”No, please!” A cry mixed with sobs erupted from the bent over, defenseless student. He frantically shielded his face with his arms, struggling and crying out loud, ”Please, spare me, spare me!”

Fatty’s knee halted before his face.

With a push, Fatty shoved the near-soiling-himself student aside, coldly staring at the now utterly stunned Monroe.

”Attack! All of you, attack!” Monroe shouted, his eyes wide with desperation. But now, even fewer heeded his command. Watching the writhing, groaning figures on the ground, everyone was scared out of their wits.

Their own pasts were not without violence and danger; fighting, and even killing, was not foreign to them. However, in this moment, they were frozen with fear, unable to move.

No one had ever seen such terrifying, brutal combat. Fatty’s successive attacks led to the same inescapable outcome — instant knockouts! This had utterly crushed their confidence. To them, Fatty wasn’t human. He was a demon, one that ordinary people could never defeat!

A demon controlling everyone’s life and death! From ordinary man to demon, it only took him one action — closing the door to the training hall!

Inside this door, he controlled everyone’s fate!

The students and coaches standing near Monroe were visibly trembling. Even Baz and Weiseler, standing further away, felt chills creeping from the depths of their hearts.

Among Tai Sect, who wasn’t capable of holding their own in underground fighting rings?

They had seen many fierce underground fights. Kicks that could bend steel pipes, punches that could kill a bull — they had seen it all! And these underground fighters battled for their lives in the ring, striking as brutally as they could. But compared to Fatty before them, they were like children afraid to deal lethal blows!

Fatty’s power, speed, and those simply direct but lethally potent fighting skills, who had ever seen such things? The step that crushed Nakagawa Yui, the few strides he took into the crowd, his shadow-like punches, elbows, kicks, and that knee he abruptly restrained — they were godlike!

Such unarmed combat prowess, not only had they never seen, they hadn’t even heard of it! Some had spent a lifetime watching fights, both underground and public, yet had never seen an instant kill.

But now, in just this short time, four people had already been knocked down with one hit.

Baz and the others looked at Monroe with pity.

The Puluo Branch’s time had come! This newly arrived Director was not one of those puppet idiots from the past.

Fatty pulled a chair to the door and sat down heavily, leisurely lighting a cigarette. He struck a pose.

Despite Monroe’s half-swollen, half-pale face, Fatty didn’t even glance at him. For such people, his principle was to strike ruthlessly on the downed dog.

Fatty himself had a vicious sense of humor, was far from kind-hearted, and given the critical situation, he had resolved to clean house ruthlessly before coming to the Puluo Branch, eliminating all noise and firmly grasping control of the branch. Unexpectedly, upon arrival, this Tai Sect’s top disciple, Monroe, whom he had seen in photos, walked right into the line of fire.

”Now, do you know what kind of fucking Director I am?” Fatty lightly swayed one leg over the other, watching with interest the bewildered Tai Sect disciples and several coaches in the room. His chubby face was full of smug, lascivious grins.

A dead silence.

”If you have the guts, fight me in Mecha combat!” Monroe blurted out, face flushed. Anyone could see he had already lost miserably. Challenging to a Mecha fight now was merely a desperate show of bravado. His life was in someone else’s hands; why would they agree to a Mecha duel?

”A Mecha duel?” Fatty stood up and walked towards Monroe.

”What do you want to do?” Fear made Monroe instinctively retreat two steps: ”If you have the courage, accept the challenge, let’s go to the open-air combat training ground!”