The Divine Might of Military Fist

The school gate remained crowded, and Wei Lan was still surrounded by the three punks. Not a single person stepped in to help her; instead, most were simply watching the spectacle.

The punks seemed to relish being the center of attention, which gave them a sense of arrogant accomplishment. Watching Wei Lan's tear-streaked face and the onlookers, who were too intimidated to voice their anger, only fueled their excitement.

"Hey beauty, how about it? Why don't you come have some fun with our brother Yellow Hair! He's a top-tier talent with incredible stamina; I guarantee he'll make you feel like you're in heaven!" The shirtless kid blocking Wei Lan's right side couldn't have been more than twenty, but the tattoo on his chest was jarringly eye-catching.

"Let me go!" Wei Lan was backed into a corner with no options left. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she didn't dare make a sound. Perhaps out of sheer panic, her voice came out sharp and strained.

Su Ke ran back to the school gate without stopping for breath. As he sprinted, a warm current began to flow through his limbs and bones. The forms, striking angles, and techniques of the military boxing he had learned were slowly clicking into place, and his muscles felt infused with newfound strength and agility.

Thank heavens, the three punks were still in the same spot and hadn't done anything worse to Wei Lan. Su Ke returned to the crowd, his mastery of the military boxing now complete, yet he didn't rush out immediately.

Su Ke had never been in a fight in his life. His timid nature meant that whenever he encountered trouble, he would either endure it or retreat—a trait deeply rooted in his family's circumstances.

The reason those children of officials or the wealthy were so arrogant wasn't because they were actually formidable; it was because they had a safety net before they even threw a punch. They had the confidence that, at worst, they could just pay their way out of trouble.

But children from poor families were always cautious and self-effacing, terrified of causing trouble for their parents. While a small minority might give up and turn into punks, that was an irresponsible path that would only break their parents' hearts.

Su Ke took a deep breath. The impending confrontation left him both nervous and exhilarated, his hands trembling as he struggled to steady his breathing.

Let that girl go! Su Ke wasn't stupid enough to shout that out loud before charging into the fray. He figured that such a line was just like in novels, where experts always announced, "Watch my move!" before attacking—it served no purpose other than to alert the enemy.

Yes, despite his timid nature, Su Ke wasn't a fool. Furthermore, his long-suppressed courage had finally surfaced; protecting someone he ought to protect was a man's responsibility.

There was a ten-meter radius of empty space where the punks stood, with all the students keeping their distance. But as Su Ke stepped out from the crowd, he immediately became conspicuous.

Although Su Ke was a decent 1.76 meters tall, he wasn't sturdy; in fact, he was rather thin. His appearance only earned him a fierce glare from Yellow Hair, who spat out, "Get lost!" before turning his attention back to Wei Lan.

In the eyes of the punks, Su Ke was nothing more than a weakling with a combat power of less than five.

When Wei Lan finally saw someone step out from the crowd, she looked over with a glimmer of hope, but when she realized it was her classmate Su Ke, her desperate eyes dimmed instantly.

She knew how timid and honest Su Ke was; otherwise, he wouldn't have been the target of the class's teasing. Could she really count on a classmate who was afraid of his own shadow and blushed whenever he spoke to save her?

Su Ke was still nervous, to the point where he had to keep stoking his own anger. His face pale, he suddenly accelerated and charged forward.

"Brother Yellow Hair!"

Hearing his lackey's warning, Yellow Hair turned around just in time to see Su Ke rushing toward him. With a sneer, he met him head-on, throwing a right hook at Su Ke's head.

Just before reaching Yellow Hair, Su Ke tilted his body slightly, dodging the punch. At the same time, he pulled his right fist back to his waist and unleashed a rotating punch, palm facing down, striking Yellow Hair squarely in the chest with a powerful bow-stance punch.

Thud.

Yellow Hair stumbled back, his chest struck so hard that he couldn't catch his breath. Before he could recover, he saw Su Ke straighten his left leg and lift his right, his thigh taut and toes pointed downward, delivering a fierce snap-kick straight to his crotch.

"Ah!"

By the time Yellow Hair's scream rang out, he was already curled on the ground, clutching his groin. Su Ke had taken him down with a single kick-to-the-crotch-and-elbow-strike combo. He quickly retracted his leg and turned to face the two shirtless punks charging at him.

Su Ke didn't hesitate. He didn't even know how fast he was moving, but before they could strike, he executed a blocking-and-tripping maneuver, sweeping his right foot forward to knock one of them to the ground. Reflexively, he prepared to kick again.

Suddenly, the other man grabbed Su Ke from behind, trying to wrestle him to the ground. Su Ke swayed but immediately regained his balance. He hooked his right foot behind the man's ankle and jerked his elbows back with force, slamming the man onto the ground behind him.

Turning around, he tensed his right foot, ready to kick the man in the throat. However, a sudden, ominous premonition flashed through his mind, and he quickly shifted his aim, kicking the man in the head instead. Had he followed through with the throat-strike, the man would surely have been critically injured.

"Su Ke, watch out!" Wei Lan suddenly shrieked.

Su Ke's eyes were bloodshot, his movements feeling like pure instinct. Hearing Wei Lan's cry, he realized it must be the punk he had tripped earlier.

He spun around violently, his right foot whipping out to kick the man's knee joint. A sharp crack echoed—like bone shattering—and the man collapsed to the left, dropping his knife and clutching his knee as he rolled on the ground.

Su Ke's chest heaved, his bloodshot eyes scanning the three punks. His fists remained tightly clenched, ready to strike again at any moment.

"Hey, did you see that? He used military boxing!" a boy shouted as if he'd discovered a new continent.

"No kidding! Didn't we just learn that in military training? He used six forms: bow-stance punch, kick-to-the-crotch-and-elbow-strike, block-and-trip, counter-hook-kick, throat-strike-kick, and cross-side-kick!" It was clearly a freshman who had just finished training, speaking with authority.

"Yeah, I didn't realize military boxing was so effective in a real fight. I guess I need to study it properly!"

Seeing that the three men on the ground had no intention of getting back up, Su Ke ignored them and walked into the crowd to retrieve his bike, which was still in decent condition.

"Let's go! I'll see you home," Su Ke said softly as he walked to Wei Lan's side, though his cheeks flushed with a fresh wave of red.