Side Step Straight Punch

Whoosh!

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

Fists cut through the air, shoes scraping against the rubber floor.

Under the floodlights.

A lean figure stood in the center of the boxing ring, repeatedly practicing side steps and strikes.

Straight punches, jabs, hooks, swings.

His gaze was focused, every punch and every step meticulous.

Though his movements looked somewhat stiff, they carried an indescribable seriousness.

After every repetition, he seemed to make subtle corrections, improving bit by bit.

Until they became smoother and more coordinated...

"Fang Cheng, come help move the mats!"

A shout suddenly reached his ears, breaking the atmosphere of absorbed practice.

"Coming."

Fang Cheng paused, lowering his arms as he caught his breath.

He then picked up the mop and bucket tossed aside and walked down from the freshly cleaned boxing ring.

"If you like boxing so much, you could apply to be a sparring partner. The pay's better too."

"No way. If his face gets messed up, half the female trainees at our club will stop coming..."

Fang Cheng did not respond to his coworkers' teasing.

He silently stepped forward, hoisted two foam mats onto his shoulder, and headed for the equipment room.

They kept busy for half an hour.

Outside the window, the city beneath the night sky was already lit by scattered lights.

"Finally off work!"

"Come on, let's grab a drink."

"No, I still have to pick up my girlfriend..."

As the conversation sound and clock-in sound gradually thinned out, the vast venue fell silent.

Fang Cheng raised his head and glanced at the wall clock.

21:35.

It was still early. He could squeeze in a free hot shower.

Before long, rushing water could be heard in the shower room reserved for trainees.

Ten minutes later.

Fang Cheng changed into clean shorts, stepped across the mosaic floor tiles, and walked out of the shower room.

The washbasin area was brightly lit, and the mirror reflected his current appearance.

His shoulders were narrow and slightly bony, his skin pale and nearly bloodless.

Yet this made his features seem even deeper and more defined—his straight nose and thin lips all gave him a fragile air.

His wet hair clung messily to his forehead in separate strands, obscuring half his brows and eyes.

From any angle, he looked like the kind of pretty boy girls loved.

"What's the use of being good-looking? I still can't find a decent job..."

Fang Cheng gave a faint, self-mocking smile, then dried his hair with a towel.

He quickly put on his outerwear, packed up his things, picked up his shoulder bag, and headed outside.

In the hazy night, neon signs flickered.

They displayed the words "Global Elite Fighting Club."

The moment he stepped out through the glass doors, a cold wind hit him head-on, like countless fine needles stabbing into his skin.

Pedestrians on the street all had their heads down, bundled up from head to toe.

Fang Cheng raised the collar of his jacket and shoved both hands into his pockets.

With his bag on his back, he quickened his pace toward the nearby bus stop.

Hope I can catch the last bus.

The weather forecast said that on November 20, the first cold wave of winter would arrive in Dongdu City.

In this damn weather, if he walked home, he would definitely catch a cold by the next day.

A few passengers stood scattered beneath the bus shelter, constantly breathing into their hands and stomping their feet.

There was also a young woman in a short skirt and warm stockings, wearing earphones and listening to music on a portable player.

Fang Cheng walked to a corner and joined the line of people waiting.

As he stood there silently, a vibrating ringtone suddenly came from the Blue Canvas Satchel.

"Mom..."

"I already ate. I was working overtime just now."

Fang Cheng took his phone from his bag and spoke with his mother, who worked as a hospital caregiver.

"The transfer came through, right?"

"It's fine. I'm interning at a big company now, so I'm not short on money. Maternal Grandfather's illness is more important."

"Mm, mm... I know. You need to take care of yourself too. The weather's been cold lately..."

They spoke for only half a minute before Fang Cheng gently pressed the button to end the call amid his mother's reminders.

When he looked up, he found that the people nearby seemed to have all been drawn to look at him.

Fang Cheng secretly shook his head and carefully tucked the expensive phone back into his bag.

Perhaps they think I'm somebody too?

This was a new product launched by Noah Corporation last year.

Compared with the old "big bricks," it was much more compact. It also supported text messages and was far cheaper.

He had scrimped and saved for two months before renting a secondhand one from the market.

He had spent so much only to make finding work more convenient.

Now, it was mostly just for show, and he could barely afford the monthly rental fee.

At that thought, Fang Cheng's eyes dimmed slightly.

Despite having a law degree from a top university, his poor speaking skills, coupled with certain sensitive and special reasons, had kept him from finding a job he wanted for nearly a year and a half after graduation.

He did not want to stay home doing nothing, so he chose to work odd jobs while continuing to study hard, preparing to join the ranks of those taking the graduate entrance examination.

In contrast, those classmates from well-off families.

Before even graduating, their parents had arranged paths for them into the civil service, or they had gone straight to intern at large corporations and renowned law firms.

Fang Cheng did not envy them.

For someone from a humble background who had risen through exams, perhaps examinations were the fairest path forward.

Rather than competing with others in connections, resources, résumés, and other glamorous externals.

He was merely... unwilling to accept it.

He raised his head and looked at the night sky, reduced to a narrow sliver by the surrounding skyscrapers.

Fang Cheng narrowed his eyes, a flicker of light passing through them.

This world was both similar to and different from his original one.

It too possessed modern civilization and prosperous cities.

But technological development was uneven across different fields, the wealth gap was greater, and social conflicts were sharper.

Take the Great Xia Republic, where he now lived. Conglomerates Influential Families occupied the main channels of advancement and monopolized most resources.

Class solidification had reached the point where everyone could curse it, yet no one could do anything about it.

For ordinary commoners at the bottom, climbing upward through hard work alone was simply too difficult...

"Burp~"

At some point, a middle-aged man reeking of drunkenness and dressed in disheveled clothes had approached and stopped beside him.

The pungent stench of alcohol and sweat washed over him.

Fang Cheng glanced sideways, then calmly moved a few steps away from the drunkard.

The other people waiting for the bus made similar moves.

Yet the drunkard showed no awareness of it. Holding a can of beer, he took another gulp.

Perhaps bored, he muttered a few words before starting to leer and harass the woman beside him.

His vulgar words were unbearable to hear.

He even directly lifted the young woman's short skirt, frightening her so badly that she hurriedly fled.

Rather than feeling ashamed, the drunkard burst out laughing and casually tossed the empty beer can onto the roadside.

Seeing this, Fang Cheng merely frowned slightly and said nothing.

After struggling in society for so long, he had become worldly and indifferent, just like those passersby.

With the economic downturn of recent years, all kinds of marginalized groups had increased, so public security naturally could not be much better.

Not long ago, there had even been a gang shootout that made the TV news.

"It's just like this terrible weather..."

Fang Cheng exhaled a breath of white mist and looked at several Yellow-Haired Youths in bizarre clothing across the street, murmuring inwardly.

"Hey, little girl, what are you doing?!"

Suddenly, an angry shout interrupted his thoughts.

The drunkard raised a hand and pointed toward the trash can nearby.

Beside it stood a skinny little girl, clutching a bulging, tattered sack in her hand.

Her dirty little face was filled with nervousness and fear, leaving her at a loss.

"Why are you taking my things?"

The drunkard demanded again.

The little girl came to her senses, lowered her head to glance at the beer can she had just picked up, and hurriedly explained timidly:

"I thought you didn't want it..."

"What do you mean, didn't want it? Is that how your family taught you? You take other people's things without asking first?"

"Then... then I'll give it back..."

The little girl lowered her head and reluctantly held out her small hands, covered in chilblains.

She wanted to return the beer can worth twenty cents.

But the drunkard refused to let it go, swatting the can from her hand.

"Your filthy hands already touched it. How am I supposed to drink it now? Disgusting! You uncivilized little brat..."

The people waiting for the bus all frowned at his words, wanting to speak but holding back.

The drunkard cursed on and on. Apparently reminded of something unpleasant, he grew even more agitated.

"Damn it, that bitch looked down on me and cheated on me, and now even a little brat like you dares to disrespect me!"

As he spoke, he grabbed the sack in her hands, trying to snatch it away.

"No, no!"

The little girl desperately protected the hard-earned results of her scavenging.

But she was too weak. She could only wrap her entire body around the sack, dragged down until both knees hit the ground.

Fang Cheng's brow furrowed tighter and tighter, nearly twisting into a knot.

He suddenly took a deep breath and turned around.

"Sir, that's enough."

"What? Are you talking to me?"

The drunkard froze, let go, and turned his head to glare at Fang Cheng with wide eyes.

Fang Cheng patiently tried to speak in as calm a tone as possible:

"Life isn't easy for anyone. We should be more understanding of each other."

But his words had no persuasive effect. Instead, they only made the man more aggressive.

"You little punk, what right do you have to lecture me? Are you a cop, or some rich bastard? Don't get too cocky!"

The drunkard spat as he spoke and reached out to shove Fang Cheng.

Fang Cheng was pushed back two steps in a row and could not help shoving back.

As they grappled, the drunken man immediately flew into a rage.

"You pretty boy, you dare fight back? I'll kill you!"

Relying on his fat, bulky build, he swung his fist to hit him.

Fang Cheng's heart jolted, his pupils contracting.

Then, an image of himself punching forward in the boxing ring suddenly flashed through his mind.

Almost instinctively, he lowered his center of gravity, turned his shoulder and twisted his hips, then threw a punch with his rear hand.

Bang!

A Side Step Straight Punch crossed past the swinging arm and smashed solidly into the bridge of his nose.

"Aah—"

The drunkard clutched his face in pain, somewhat dazed.

His head buzzed, while sweet, spicy, sour, and salty sensations surged together.

Then, two streams of bright red liquid slowly ran from his nostrils.

He touched the nosebleed and looked at it.

At once, humiliation turned into rage. Cursing, he lunged at Fang Cheng again.

Bang!

The same fist technique, the same spot.

The Drunkard staggered and fell flat on his backside, with most of the alcohol instantly knocked out of him.

He spat out a mouthful of Blood Foam. It looked like even his teeth had been loosened by the blow.

Clearly, he had never expected to be brutally beaten by a frail-looking pretty boy.

He stood there stunned for a while, unable to advance or retreat.

Seeing this, Fang Cheng stopped and shook his head with a sigh.

"Uncle, it's getting cold. Go home early."

At this moment, the faint "woo-woo" Siren Sound drifted over from afar.

The middle-aged man shuddered, scrambled to his feet, and turned around to run.

In the blink of an eye, he had vanished without a trace.

The others nearby and passersby who witnessed the scene all pointed and discussed it in surprise.

Fang Cheng caught his breath, picked up the satchel he had tossed aside, silently dusted it off, and slung it back over his shoulder.

He turned his head to look at the little girl's smiling face, her eyes still glistening with tears.

Although he had gained no benefit or reward from it, an indescribable emotion surged within him.

A blaze of heat filled his chest, like a torch ignited on a winter night.

It warmed him and illuminated the cold, desolate darkness around him.

Fang Cheng's eyes flickered.

A line of small text emerged in his vision like a game notification.

You defeated a Formidable Opponent. Boxing Skill experience +20