It wasn't just the Fatty—even Jiang Cheng was startled by Wu's attitude. He couldn't understand how things had been fine a moment ago, only for Wu to suddenly act like he'd lost his mind.
But Wu's words only made the Fatty more curious. Compared to the doctor, Brother Wu was clearly the stronger fighter. If he could get Brother Wu to train him, he'd improve much faster.
So the Fatty copied the martial arts masters in the movies, clasped his hands in a formal salute, fixed his eyes on Wu, and said solemnly, "Then... forgive me."
Before the Fatty had even gathered himself, Wu made the first move.
He brought down the scabbard in his hand at an angle.
It was only a scabbard, not a blade, but Jiang Cheng and the Fatty had both seen Wu fight. During their last mission, it had been this very scabbard that stabbed the Night Watchman to death.
The Fatty didn't dare take it lightly. Wu was much faster than the doctor, so he immediately turned to the side. The scabbard slid past his clothes. If he'd been a moment slower, it would have struck him.
A complicated emotion suddenly washed over the Fatty. He felt something unfamiliar in Wu.
Maybe... Brother Wu wasn't joking. He really was taking this seriously.
Under Wu's assault, the Fatty had no chance to fight back. After just a few moves, he was in a bad way, dodging danger again and again. If he hadn't been so agile, he'd already be on the ground.
Watching from the side, Jiang Cheng grew anxious. If this continued, the Fatty was bound to get hurt.
He wanted Wu to stop, but just as he opened his mouth, Wu pulled back the scabbard, changed his downward strike to a thrust, and