[Type III Integrated Scalpel]
Jerry was, of course, no Professional.
He had not even mastered the most basic "Combat Skill." All he had were a few scraps of mostly useless moves he had picked up from pirated combat-skill books sold by the basket in the General Store.
In terms of actual combat ability, he might not even be a match for the strong laborers who spent all day hauling cargo at Breaking Waves Wharf.
However, as an orphan, he had no parents to support. As a bachelor, he had no responsibilities toward a wife or children either.
With no family ties to worry about, he naturally did not have to fear whether his relatives would be retaliated against after he swung his stick, nor did he need to consider whether anyone would worry if something happened to him in a fight, or how the family behind him would survive without its pillar.
People who had happy, fulfilling lives always chose to step back when faced with unreasonable provocation and conflict.
That was precisely one of the reasons a thug like Jerry, whose build counted as scrawny even among ordinary people, could act so arrogantly on the streets of the Saltwater District.
And the extreme lack of regulatory institutions, along with survival rules as savage as the jungle's law of the strong preying on the weak, meant that as long as idle loafers like this did not make too much trouble and did not push honest people past their breaking point, then even if they did no work at all, they could often live warmly and well enough by sucking blood from ordinary residents.
If this were his previous life, Xia Nan, who had only been an ordinary white-collar worker, might not have endured too much in the face of such