Wrestling Skill

The burly man with broad shoulders and a thick waist stood up. With a small knife in one hand and a bloody human skin in the other, he glanced at the foreigner foaming blood from his mouth and nose on the ground, his face showing little emotion.

He merely stared indifferently at Yang Chu, reached into his tactical pants pocket to retrieve a thin plastic bag, stuffed the peeled face of Black Skin Sha and the small knife inside, and tossed it casually onto the corpse of Black Skin Sha.

Only then did he stretch his thick arms and shoulders, spreading his hands wide as he slowly approached Yang Chu.

His movements were not like the chaotic flailing of the previous foreigner; his steps were slow, his arms held wide, appearing as if he were simply blocking Yang Chu's path.

"What is your origin?"

Yang Chu shrugged one shoulder slightly, watching the burly man slowly close in, a new question forming in his mind.

Clearly, these two were not here for him; the target was Black Skin Sha.

However, at this point, the reason no longer mattered.

"Ah—"

When the burly man was barely two meters away, seemingly sensing that Yang Chu was within his striking range, he let out a sudden roar. His hand, as large as a palm-leaf fan, spread wide and lunged toward Yang Chu's shoulder.

The movement was swift and fierce.

Yang Chu's face flushed red, his lean body swelling instantly. He sidestepped, threw a backhand punch, and smashed it toward the man's face.

The force of this punch was absolutely staggering; had it connected with the man's face, it likely would have caved his entire skull in.

But the man's reaction was incredibly fast, as if he had calculated Yang Chu's move. The moment the punch was thrown, he neither blocked nor dodged; instead, he seized Yang Chu's arm, yanked it violently to the side, and threw Yang Chu off balance.

The burly man seized the opportunity, let out a shout, grabbed Yang Chu's shoulder with his other hand, and exerted sudden force, hurling Yang Chu through the air.

The moment Yang Chu landed, the man was already upon him, lifting a heavy foot to stomp down ruthlessly on Yang Chu's body.

These movements were practiced and swift, as if honed by countless battles.

Facing the sudden stomp, in this split second of life and death, Yang Chu thrust his arms up to block his chest, simultaneously twisting his body to kick his right leg toward the shin of the man's supporting left leg.

The man immediately retracted his foot, reached down to scoop up Yang Chu's leg, and swung him backward.

Yang Chu was sent flying once more, but this time, he did not fall as before; instead, the moment he hit the ground, he braced his hands against the floor to steady himself.

The burly man lunged at Yang Chu again, his seemingly clumsy body possessing unnatural agility.

Yang Chu sidestepped and lashed out with a fierce side kick toward the man's waist.

The moment the kick arrived, the man slightly shifted his body to dissipate the force, caught Yang Chu's leg with both hands, twisted his torso, and flung Yang Chu away again.

Yang Chu flipped in mid-air and landed steadily once more. Seeing the man rushing toward him with arms wide, he did as he had done against the muscular foreigner and charged straight into the man's chest.

Yang Chu had used this move two or three times already; with his explosive power, a collision against someone's chest was enough to shatter ribs and rupture internal organs.

But as Yang Chu crashed into his center, the man suddenly placed his hands on Yang Chu's shoulders, used his arms to guide the momentum, and sent Yang Chu flying again.

As Yang Chu landed and steadied himself, the man rushed him once more, grabbing his shoulder with one hand and locking his neck with his right arm.

Yang Chu threw a fierce punch with his right hand into the man's lower vitals. Just like the muscular foreigner before, the man felt nothing; instead, he gripped his own right forearm with his left hand and squeezed with sudden, violent force, intent on snapping Yang Chu's neck.

Guillotine!

Yang Chu's eyes instantly bloodshot, his skin turning a deep red, the muscles in his neck bulging as his heart hammered like a roaring engine.

His brain commanded his endocrine and nervous systems, driving his sympathetic-adrenal system into a frenzy.

"Hah!"

Yang Chu grabbed the man's waist with both hands, exerted sudden force from his core, lifted the man who was locking his neck, and slammed him headfirst into the ground behind him.

Thud—

The burly man's head was smashed to a pulp, and his body collapsed into a heap of broken flesh.

Yang Chu pried the man's arm from his neck, rolled over a few times, and lay flat on the ground, gasping for air.

It took a long while before he could move his body slightly to look back at the corpse.

His emotions remained calm, yet he had truly felt a brush with death.

Throughout their struggle, Yang Chu had not gained a single advantage; he had been suppressed by the man the entire time.

Whether through strikes or collisions, Yang Chu could not inflict significant damage on the man, let alone kill him in one blow.

The opponent not only felt no pain but possessed incredibly refined combat techniques.

These were not striking techniques, but highly sophisticated wrestling skills involving pulling, dragging, grabbing, seizing, and throwing.

Even though Yang Chu's explosive power was greater, the man's physical constitution far exceeded his own, and his strength was not weak enough to be overwhelmed, allowing him to constantly dissipate force and use Yang Chu's own momentum against him.

It was only because Yang Chu could fully control his body's balance that he was able to brace himself during the last two throws; had it been an ordinary person, their skeleton would have shattered after such impacts.

So, even if my brain can fully control my body and my explosive power is greater than others, in a real fight, if I encounter combat techniques I've never seen before, I could still be killed.

During the fight, Yang Chu had actually memorized and learned the man's techniques for applying and dissipating force.

But this was useless; learning just a few moves and trying to use them would only lead him into the opponent's familiar territory, resulting in an even worse outcome.

He realized that the world was filled with countless types of combat and martial arts, each with its own complex techniques. With his current level of explosive power and repertoire of moves, he was truly not yet equipped to handle everything.

Had it not been for the Guillotine forcing him to stimulate his endocrine and nervous systems to secrete enough adrenaline, he would have been dead within seconds.

The human body had too many weaknesses. Yang Chu could unleash power several times that of an ordinary person, but if vital areas like the head or heart were struck, he was just as vulnerable as anyone else.

"If I want to put an end to such crises, besides improving my physical fitness as quickly as possible, I must also learn enough combat techniques."

Yang Chu made up his mind; this was one of the few times since he had awakened that he had a relatively clear goal.

He struggled, wanting to climb up from the ground, but at this moment he discovered once again that his motor system was barely obeying his commands.

After a long while, he finally stood up, swaying unsteadily like a zombie.

Vroom, vroom—

In the distance on the road, car headlights suddenly shone over.

A battered Toyota screeched to a halt not far in front of Yang Chu.

"Chu-zai!"

Fish Head Xu ran out from the driver's seat in a few strides and grabbed hold of Yang Chu, who couldn't even stand steadily.

Promoting a book, Tokyo Literary Era. The author writes fast, unlike a hand-crippled person like me. Friends who are interested can go take a look!