Signing Up for the Martial Arts Tournament, Confronting Dragonforce Dojo

On this day, Jack Young spent a whole week practicing the Seven Wheels and Three Meridians technique.

Thanks to Jack, Maggie Monroe started getting up earlier too. Early in the morning, Jack made breakfast while Maggie surfed the internet in the study.

Maggie mumbled as she browsed online, her voice soft but Jack heard every word: "The world’s really getting weird lately. There are netizens exposing all sorts of missing persons cases, collecting data and photos, and making it look legit."

Jack’s heart skipped a beat and he asked, "So what are the other netizens saying?"

"Mostly stuff like 'Here come the tickets again, you know what I mean, no need to explain.' Sometimes someone replies that someone from their family also went missing, then another one jumps in with 'Our cat’s missing too, everyone line up downstairs,' just trolling posts like that."

"Mm." The online world was still calm. The little ripples were just fodder for jokes, nothing major. After all, people go missing every day, everywhere; it’s just that the recent uptick has people a bit on edge. But for most netizens, it’s just another topic to joke about and soon forgotten.

Except for those in the know, nobody really paid attention anymore.

Jack was lost in thought when Maggie suddenly exclaimed, "Hey, dummy Jack, there’s a competition I think you’d be perfect for! CCTV and Henan TV are hosting the Martial Arts Tournament, and the champion gets a hundred thousand RMB! Registration’s open now! Want to give it a shot?"

"Martial Arts Tournament?" Jack thought about it—he only had eighty thousand left in his bank account, all saved up from years of overtime and penny-pinching. Sure, living with Maggie meant he wasn’t spending much, but that couldn’t last forever. He needed to make his own money. "Alright, sign me up! You know my ID number, right?"

"Of course I know, I am your boss!" Maggie clicked away on the computer and said, "Wow, there’s a lot to fill out—Hey Jack, are you an internal or external style martial artist?"

"Internal style."

"Which internal style school?"

"No school, just internal boxing. Pick any name you like."

"Alright, I’ll just make one up—how about Chalk Fist?"

"I’ll strangle you, you little brat!"

"Hahaha! Then it’s settled—Chalk Fist!"

In the end, Jack was registered under the style 'Yang Family Internal Boxing.' Silly Maggie patted Jack’s shoulder and said, "Look at what I wrote—sounds like you’re some grandmaster! Of course, if you get beaten up and can’t hold your own, it’ll be twice as embarrassing."

"Alright, alright, my lady!" Jack was speechless at Maggie’s antics.

That day, Jack and Maggie went to the gym. From a distance, Jack saw something hanging at the entrance—a shoe?

It was a terribly worn-out old shoe, the upper almost in shreds, dangling from the doorframe by its laces. Jack frowned, hurried over, and took it down. "Who’s the jerk pulling this kind of prank?"

A shadow flickered across Maggie's face, her expression a little off, but she quickly returned to normal and said, "Forget it, probably some brat from the neighborhood. Let’s just toss it out."

Her mood shifted fast, but there was no fooling Jack’s sharp eyes. He asked, "Silly Maggie, is the gym running into trouble? Is there some jealous competitor stirring up trouble?"

"Ha! My gym’s doing so well, of course there are jealous folks!" Maggie waved it off. "Alright, alright, get back to your training. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it."

Jack didn’t say more and tossed the worn-out shoe into the trash.

But things weren’t that simple. Jealous competitors wouldn’t just hang an old shoe at the door. Using something like a shoe to insult someone—this felt more like a catfight.

Jack thought back to the past few days. Sometimes Maggie would send him off to the supermarket for water right when she arrived in the morning.

He hadn’t thought much of it then, but now it seemed there was more going on.

Morning was for self-training, afternoon for teaching classes. During a break, Jack wandered to the gym entrance, and with his sharp eyes, spotted some clues: sticker marks on the glass, traces of marker on the rolling door, wiped but still faint. Cleaned up well, but not invisible to Jack.

At 7 PM, Maggie went to the monthly meeting for shop owners in the complex. Jack kept his cool and walked her to the door. Maggie didn’t let him in and shooed him away at the entrance.

"It’s just a monthly meeting, all the attendees are bosses. Worried I’ll get into trouble?" Maggie patted Jack’s chest. "Go on, you’ve got class tonight. You’re the star trainer at the gym now—I’m counting on you to make money, so don’t skip out!"

"Alright." Jack nodded, hinting, "Silly Maggie, people are always bound to clash. Whatever happens, just go for it—I’ll protect you, bodyguard’s honor."

Maggie’s eyes flashed, then she punched Jack and laughed, "Deal, I’ll do whatever I want! I’m not leaving until I get the landlord to cut the rent by thirty percent. If things get heated, you better not chicken out!"

Jack smiled gently and nodded with certainty.

At 7:30 PM, students arrived one after another and Jack started teaching. Just as he was getting into it, his ears twitched and he frowned. He heard hurried footsteps outside, something being dropped with a bang, then the footsteps quickly leaving.

Jack rushed to the door and found a big sign outside, with four words written in red:

Slut! Bitch! Whore! Skank!

Four words, four exclamation marks—huge red letters, full of malice, assaulted the eyes. Jack’s gaze turned sharp. He looked toward the direction the footsteps had gone and saw two burly men in training uniforms, the words "Dragonforce Dojo" on their backs, glaring provocatively.

The female students followed Jack out and, seeing the sign, couldn’t help but complain, "This is outrageous—they’re back again!"

"Big Sis Maggie didn’t do anything to them. Those jerks are just the worst!"

"This time they’ve gone too far! I’m rallying all the girls—never going to Dragonforce Dojo again!"

Jack lifted the sign with one shoulder—it was heavy and solid. Dragonforce Dojo? Jack knew the place, right on the first floor of the complex, prime location, hard to miss.

Jack strode over, face calm as water, heading straight for the two Dragonforce Dojo guys. They stood behind the crowd, flipped him the bird, and ran off laughing.

But Jack didn’t care, marching forward with determination. They could run, but they couldn’t hide—tonight, he was taking the fight to Dragonforce Dojo! (Author’s note: My vacation’s ending, back to regular work soon. Updates will only come at night from now on.)