"Watch your left!"
One early morning, when the sky was only beginning to lighten, a young Black man in a gray t-shirt, shorts, and running shoes was jogging down the road when a figure suddenly sprinted up from behind. As he passed him, he tossed out a "Watch your left," then shook his American ass and pedaled his legs like they had electric motors, vanishing from sight.
Afterward, that figure clearly ran several laps around his jogging route at incredible speed, and every time he passed him, he said the same thing.
"Stop saying that! Stop!" The young Black man felt deeply provoked.
"Watch your left." Yet the man running at inhuman speed still smugly left those words behind.
"You said it again...!" The young man finally snapped and accelerated to chase after him. But he had already been running for quite a while, and his stamina was nearly spent. That sudden burst of speed disrupted his rhythm, and after only a few steps, he could not run any farther. He stopped beneath a large tree by the roadside, clutching his chest and gasping hopelessly.
"Do you need a doctor?" Before long, the man walked over slowly with his hands on his hips. He was also wearing a gray short-sleeved shirt and blue pants, his body packed with solid muscle.
"I might need new lungs..." Leaning against the tree, the young man felt like his lungs were about to give out. Seeing that the other man was breathing evenly and had barely broken a sweat, he could only give a bitter smile. "Man, you ran thirteen kilometers in thirty minutes."
The man replied without concern, "If you get up late, you have to run more."
"Really? You've got some nerve." The man under the tree had no temper left to