Firehawk glanced over at Blade, who was seated nearby, with a young-looking teenager beside him.
He reached out, tugged at Woodhawk next to him, and gave him a meaningful look.
They’d come here today to demand an explanation for Ray 'Thunderhawk' Lei—he was their comrade, and getting hurt for no reason left them deeply resentful.
Woodhawk caught on, nodded, and walked straight over.
"It’s scorching out today, I’m dying of thirst. Mind sparing some water?" Woodhawk grinned, arms crossed, standing over Blade with a condescending air.
"Why would we mind? Isn’t this the expert who’s always hanging around Deputy Commander Su? Doesn’t look like one of our military district people." Firehawk snickered.
All their gazes locked onto Blade.
Blade was originally Victor Su’s top bodyguard, recruited from a foreign mercenary group. Recently, because Knife-Edge Company’s performance had tanked, Victor Su loaned Blade to Eldest Brother Su to teach Knife-Edge some hand-to-hand combat skills.
But things didn’t go as planned. Even with Blade’s help, Knife-Edge Company was still crushed by Flying Eagle Company, totally defeated. For a while, Blade became the butt of Flying Eagle’s jokes.
"You need something?" Blade frowned, giving Firehawk and Woodhawk a cold stare.
The female medics nearby turned their heads, glancing over at the commotion.
Hawkeye stood with his arms crossed, just watching the show.
Frank Xu and the others on the track started their twenty-second lap. Noticing the disturbance, they couldn’t help but turn their heads to look.
In everyone’s eyes, Blade was being cornered by Firehawk and Woodhawk. As for the teenager beside him, he just gently blew on his cup of hot tea, sending up a few wisps of steam.
"Of course there’s something up. Your Deputy Commander Su set up Ray 'Thunderhawk' Lei and got him hurt—don’t think we’ve forgotten about that. I’ve heard about you before, you used to be a mercenary overseas, right? Well, I’ve never sparred with a merc before. Got nothing better to do today—how about a friendly match?" Woodhawk grinned.
Blade’s face darkened. He glanced at Evan Lin.
Right now, relations between Flying Eagle and Knife-Edge were already tense. And since Blade wasn’t officially military, if things got physical, it could cause trouble for Deputy Commander Su.
Plus, when it came to raw power, Blade hadn’t cultivated inner strength, but all the techniques he’d learned as a mercenary were meant for killing—one wrong move and he could seriously injure someone. That’s why he hesitated.
"What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’re scared?" Firehawk raised an eyebrow, his tone mocking. "Or are you worried Woodhawk will beat you in front of Knife-Edge and you’ll lose face?"
"Honestly, you don’t need to worry. Whether it’s you or Knife-Edge, you’re all Flying Eagle’s losers—forever stuck at the bottom!"
Firehawk’s tone dripped with disdain. Woodhawk grinned, and Hawkeye stayed calm, though the mockery in his eyes was obvious.
"Huh, guess he’s scared." One of the female medics giggled.
"Woodhawk might only be strong by Flying Eagle standards, but compared to Knife-Edge, he’s a total powerhouse." Another medic gazed at Woodhawk with admiration.
"If he wants to fight, then fight."
A calm, clear voice sounded from the teenager nearby.
Woodhawk and the others frowned, glancing over to see Evan Lin sipping tea. Woodhawk froze—he’d dismissed the skinny teenager as irrelevant before.
He hadn’t expected the kid to actually speak up.
Before Woodhawk could say anything, Blade—who’d been sitting—stood up at Evan Lin’s words.
Blade looked at Woodhawk, a cruel glint flashing in his eyes. "How do you want to fight?" he sneered.
Blade usually seemed reserved—always wearing sunglasses, hard to read. But now, as he stood up and spoke, the excited female medics nearby instinctively shrank back in fear.
Woodhawk, too, suddenly sensed a brutal aura and was startled. But he quickly recovered and said, "How do we fight? Simple—anything goes, as long as nobody dies!"
Woodhawk’s eyes flashed cold. He lunged forward, whipping a powerful kick toward Blade’s face!
Woodhawk moved with incredible speed—his flexibility and explosive power peaked in that instant!
"Nice!"
Firehawk couldn’t help but shout his approval at Woodhawk’s move.
The female medics’ eyes sparkled with admiration—they couldn’t wait to see Blade embarrassed by Woodhawk’s kick.
But Blade just snorted coldly, showing no fear. He reached out, blocking Woodhawk’s kick with a steady arm. Before Woodhawk could retract his leg, Blade flipped his hand over and clamped down hard on Woodhawk’s calf. Then, with a savage hand chop, he struck the inside of Woodhawk’s leg.
Crack!
A crisp sound of bone fracturing rang out.
At the same time, Woodhawk let out a scream of agony!
Aaaah!
Woodhawk’s ankle twisted grotesquely. His face contorted in pain, and just as he cried out, Blade kicked him in the chest, sending him flying.
The fight was decided in an instant.
The female medics turned pale, frozen in fear, unable to speak.
Woodhawk!
Firehawk and Hawkeye’s faces changed instantly. Seeing Woodhawk’s twisted leg, they shuddered with fear.
You really fight dirty!
Firehawk’s eyes widened in fury. He roared, clenched his fists, and charged at Blade.
Compared to Woodhawk’s clean whip kick, Firehawk’s punches were even more savage. He seemed to block every path in front of Blade, and each punch targeted deadly pressure points. He was clearly enraged.
But Blade’s expression didn’t change. After all, he was a veteran mercenary—he moved strategically, quickly found an opening, and with a cold glint in his eyes, landed a punch right in Firehawk’s chest.
Bang!
Firehawk flew backward, spitting blood mid-air, badly injured.
Learned a few flashy moves and think you’re hot stuff?" Blade said coldly.
If these guys weren’t from Flying Eagle, I’d have killed them already.
Frank Xu and the others running laps saw Blade’s moves and felt a chill in their hearts. They’d always thought Blade was nothing special, that his training was ordinary. But now, seeing his true strength, they were shocked.
Evan Lin sat to the side, expression indifferent, pouring himself another cup of tea. The tea leaves boiled, giving off a cold, detached vibe.
"Insignificant ants." (Note: Evan uses this phrase to mock Flying Eagle, likening them to tiny insects beneath his feet.)