It felt like being pulled by ten oxen.
"It seems that the teaching at the Soryu Dojo is quite good."
After a faint smile, Scribe pulled Takashima into his arms.
Even though Takashima tried to steady himself, his body still couldn't stop falling towards the Scribe.
Release your grip, clench your fist, and swing gently.
"Bang"
After punching the opponent in the abdomen, the impact sent him flying.
"Boom!"
Takashima was sent flying backward, crashed through the wooden gate and landed inside the dojo.
After rolling around on the ground a few times, he passed out.
Tamayo, who was standing to the side, watched the Scribe make his move but did not say anything to stop him.
Because she knew that the Scribe hadn't intended to kill her.
A thoughtful glint flashed in her bright eyes, and she knew what the Scribe wanted to do.
Clearly, the Scribe's perverse sense of humor has resurfaced.
On the other side, some disciples outside the dojo also saw the shattered gate.
Some sharp-eyed people even recognized that the person who was knocked away was Takashima, the goalkeeper.
"Takashima!"
Upon seeing this, a man who looked similar to Takashima exclaimed in surprise and then rushed towards Takashima.
At the same time, everyone else's eyes were drawn to the Scribe and Tamayo standing outside the door.
Even if someone noticed the beautiful Tamayo, they quickly averted their gaze.
Because their instincts, honed through years of training, have taught them who they should pay the most attention to.
"Wow, there are quite a lot of people here."
Within his sight, the Scribe saw no fewer than twenty disciples.
Judging from their robust physiques, they are guys who have undergone a lot of training.
"This must be the Soryu Dojo."
"If you could read, you should have seen the words on the door frame from ten steps away."
A middle-aged man snorted coldly and strode forward.
"What do you mean by this? Why did you injure my disciple right away?"
"Oh? You mean this?"
With a grin, Scribe revealed a mouthful of white teeth.
"I'm here to challenge them."
Chapter 344 This is the final blow.
"Challenge?"
The people in the temple present were all familiar with this term.
Although over time, the number of dojos that truly teach martial arts has decreased.
In addition, changes in people's attitudes, technological advancements, and other factors have led to an extremely limited number of dojos.
However, this isn't the first or second time they've experienced a challenge.
But all the previous challenges they had made were easily driven away by them.
Not for any other reason than that their Soryu Dojo is the oldest and most ancient dojo in the vicinity.
He has over a hundred disciples, and several experts are also in charge.
"Challenge them? That's ridiculous."
The middle-aged man glanced at the Scribe and couldn't help but sneer.
"With those frail arms of yours?"
As he spoke, he didn't forget to flex the muscles on his arms.
"Your thigh isn't even as thick as my arm, and you think you can challenge our Soryu Dojo with that?"
After finishing his demonstration, he crossed his arms and called out to the other students behind him.
"I don't need to teach you how to do it, do I?"
Upon hearing this, the other disciples immediately nodded in agreement.
"We understand, Mr. Ichiryu."
As they responded, the twenty-three disciples present all dropped what they were doing and rushed toward the Scribe.
"Don't make a big deal out of this."
With a helpless sigh, Tamayo shook her head and said.
"After all, it was left behind by that child; don't destroy it."
"I know, I just suddenly wanted to have some fun."
With a laugh, Scribe released his arm from her waist.
"I just wanted to test how much of the skills of the Soryu Dojo have been passed down."
The disciples of the dojo were already furious that the other party did not take them seriously.
Hearing the man in front of him seemingly mocking his dojo, the anger in his heart became even more uncontrollable.
For them, the dojo is their second home.
Insulting their temple is more serious than insulting themselves.
'Prepare to die!'
"You wretched fellow, let me, Lord Satomi, teach you a lesson."
"Shut your mouth, you idiot!"
Some students who were close to the shelf also picked up Bamboo Sword Fragment and rushed towards the Scribe.
"He certainly inherited a lot of fighting spirit."
Looking at the student rushing towards him, the Scribe's eyes showed a hint of relief.
"That kid would be very happy if he saw what was happening."
Although he felt a little emotional, the Scribe would not let his guard down because of this.
His eyes darted around quickly, and he soon spotted a weak point.
While charging forward, Scribe was like a hurricane, rushing into the crowd.
Grab someone by the collar and pull them down.
Then came a knee strike, hitting the opponent's soft stomach.
The person who was hit felt as if they had been struck by a hammer, and their stomach churned violently.
"Vomit"
After gagging once, he fainted.
"One."
Silently memorizing the numbers, the Scribe then tossed the unconscious person aside.
Upon seeing that his friend had been knocked unconscious, the student who had been thrown into the direction of the attack rushed over to rescue him.
Even the siege of the Scribe was temporarily put aside by them.
This would create even greater vulnerabilities in the encirclement.
He dodged, lunged forward, threw a punch, and kicked.
One after another, the Scribe, like a tiger descending from the mountain and crashing into a flock of sheep, easily defeated his students.
"Two, three, four... seventeen, eighteen."
In less than a minute, nearly twenty disciples were knocked down by the Scribe.
Their attacks didn't even manage to touch the hem of the Scribe's clothes, let alone cause him any harm.
Seeing his prized student defeated so easily, Ichiryu stood there stunned.
He, as the teacher, knew all too well the abilities of his students.
While he might not be a one-man army, he was certainly a force that two or three ordinary men couldn't withstand.
But these twenty-three people were like clay in the hands of this seemingly frail young man.
Let them get dizzy however you want them to.
Let them fly out whenever we want.
Moreover, judging from the other party's expression, they didn't use their true strength at all.
Ichiryu had never even heard of such strength.
"Twenty-two."
The Scribe knocked one person unconscious with the stolen Bamboo Sword Fragment, and the counting was nearing its end.
At this moment, besides himself and Tamayo, only Ichiryu and another young man were still standing.
The others were either knocked unconscious by themselves or knocked to the ground by themselves.
The entire dojo was filled with wails of agony.
Looking at the young man standing in front of him, still unwilling to back down, Scribe felt that he looked somewhat familiar.
Thinking about it carefully, it seems that this guy was the one who initially ran towards that Takashima.
"You, you actually injured Takashima."
With bloodshot eyes, the young man named Tetsuya roared.
I won't let you get away with this!
As he spoke, he brandished the Bamboo Sword Fragment in his hand and charged at the Scribe like a madman.
If I told you I was there to treat his illness, would you believe me?
Seeing Tetsuya's madness, Scribe said calmly.
"It's just that the methods were a bit extreme, why don't you all believe me?"
"No one would believe you!"
Thinking that the Scribe was still fooling him, Tetsuya leaped into the air.
"Go to hell!"
Blinded by rage, he had lost his reason.
They even forgot the basic principles that the Soryu Dojo had taught them.
He swung the sword with all his might, and the Bamboo Sword Fragment made a whistling sound as it cut through the air.
Its target was the Scribe's neck.
Once struck, the force is enough to break the neck of an average adult, causing fatal injury.
Upon seeing this, Ichiryu immediately called out.
"Stop, Tetsuya, this is going too far!"
Having lost his mind Tetsuya naturally couldn't hear Ichiryu's shouts; he only had one thought in his mind.
Revenge.