The next day, a video titled "The Ultimate Dance Teacher Takes on Ten at Once" blew up online. Every social media platform—Twitter, Reddit, Facebook, TikTok—you name it, was flooded with reposts and links. The clip? Jack Young marching into Dragonforce Dojo, ready to stir up trouble. No clue which internet troll started it, but wow, did it go viral.
The comment section instantly exploded. Some folks swore it was just a publicity stunt, others said it was a movie shoot, and some thought it was all staged. Of course, a few keyboard warriors jumped in with "Real martial arts masters walk among us!"—only to get roasted by replies like "Bro, I AM that master. Bow down, peasants!" Total chaos, classic internet.
There was another viral hit: "The Most Epic Confession Ever—A Moonlit Romantic Adventure." Someone else filmed it from a different angle, and this video was way clearer, way steadier, and covered everything. From Jack hauling his sign toward Dragonforce, all the way to the grand finale—every moment, crystal clear. Jack took one look at the angle and the HD quality and muttered, "This has gotta be someone from the gym forum!"
This version even had subtitles explaining the whole backstory, complete with the location and dramatic details—instantly making the whole thing seem legit. But just when it looked super realistic, the subtitles went rogue at the end. When the audio got fuzzy, the subber totally betrayed reality:
When Jack unleashed his signature Double Dragon Drill, the subtitles flashed: "From now on, you belong to me!"
When Maggie threw her punch back, the subtitles read: "Ouch, ouch, ouch! You jerk! Dummy! Big idiot!"—so far, pretty accurate. But then the last line veered off: "Like you? Pfft, as if!"
—Yep, it was totally the classic Overbearing Dude vs. Adorable Tsundere Girl vibe!
Jack scrolled through a flood of starry-eyed comments and blessings, endless jokes and people forming teams, and tons of replies begging for a boyfriend or girlfriend just like them. He grabbed his hair and face-planted onto his keyboard. Social media chaos, level: expert.
"What do you want for breakfast?" Maggie Monroe strolled into Jack's room, brandishing a shiny kitchen knife. "What are you looking at?"
"Nothing!" Jack slammed his laptop shut, sweating bullets as he eyed Maggie's gleaming knife. "Just checking when that Martial Arts King Tournament thing starts, that's all!"
If Maggie catches me looking at this stuff, I'm toast! Seriously, she'd murder me! No doubt about it.
"Acting all sneaky... must be up to no good." Maggie was giving Jack the side-eye when—ring ring ring—the phone went off. He checked the screen: Mom!
Oh thank goodness, Mom, you're a lifesaver! Perfect timing, gotta answer this!
"Hey Mom! Missed you so much!" Jack watched Maggie squint and leave the room, barely letting out a sigh before his mom launched in: "Jack, your cousin just saw a video online—a guy making a big romantic confession, and he kinda looks like you. Super touching, apparently. Go look it up, see how people get girlfriends these days, and maybe find one yourself! I'll tell you the video name—write it down!"
Oh come on, Mom... please don't make things more complicated...
"Alright, I'll check it out and take notes—just tell me the name."
From that day on, Maggie was absolutely glowing. The gym's membership numbers shot through the roof, and every day she was counting cash and laughing maniacally. Meanwhile, Dragonforce Dojo was bleeding members—so bad, they shut down and took down the sign within days.
None of the instructors or the manager tried to cause trouble—not even a little. Whenever they ran into Jack, they acted like he was radioactive. Not everyone can call in legendary masters or city officials for backup. It's just a dojo, not some big-deal power player.
According to some well-connected gym gossip, word was the instructors had a major falling out with their lady boss.
Apparently, it all started with her stirring the pot, but the fallout landed squarely on the instructors. Now they're stuck, angry, and blaming the whole mess on that troublemaking boss lady. Every day, they're camped outside her house demanding answers.
When Maggie heard the news, she was riding high all day, dragging Jack out for all kinds of wild fun.
Meanwhile, Jack was laser-focused on leveling up his Seven Wheels and Three Meridians. Another week went by, and he unlocked the fourth wheel—the Heart Wheel. With that open, Jack felt like he could stay in zen mode forever, and his hearing got a major upgrade.
When Maggie heard about it, she joked that Jack could become a gambling legend, just like those movie pros who can tell dice numbers by sound alone. Jack thought, "Hey, that's actually a great way to train my hearing!" So they grabbed some cheap casino gear and spent their nights running mock games at home.
Loser gets a sticky note slapped right on their face!
By the end, Maggie—who lost big—went full Lion King, roaring and slapping tape all over Jack's face.
Next morning, Maggie did the impossible—she was up at the crack of dawn. When Jack got back from his run, she had whipped up a legit breakfast.
"Are you sick or something?" Jack reached out to feel Maggie's forehead. "This is weird."
"You're the weird one," Maggie dodged his hand. "Surprised, huh?"
"Honestly, I'm blinded by all this perfect housewife energy right now."
Maggie smacked Jack. "Cut the sass and eat while it's hot. Today's the day—the Martial Arts King Tournament kicks off! Judging by your blank face, don't tell me you forgot?"
Jack smacked his forehead. Oh right, today’s the Martial Arts King Tournament! He’d been so deep in his Zen training lately, he would’ve totally spaced if Maggie hadn’t reminded him.
The Martial Arts King Tournament sounds epic, but honestly, hardly anyone knows about it. These days, people care way more about K-pop stars than martial artists. No hype means no sponsors, so the $10,000 prize is actually a big deal.
The tournament has three rounds: prelims, semis, and finals. The prelims are basically like open auditions. If you’re a big-name fighter, you skip it. But if you’re a nobody—or like Jack, rolling with his own custom style—you gotta jump through the open round hoops.
Each region has its own prelim venue. But honestly, the prelims are just held in some random gym, with a couple banners and a handful of judges. And it’s not even one-on-one fights—groups go up together and show off their moves, basically shadowboxing for the crowd.
There weren’t a ton of fighters today, but still a decent crowd. Everyone was decked out in wild outfits, throwing punches and shouting. Maggie was in the audience, gawking at everything—totally blown away.
Maggie was still trying to figure out the schedule when Jack finished his round and came off stage. She handed him a water bottle, curious: "Hey, Jack the Conqueror, six people up there at once doing their own thing—how do the judges keep track?"
"Shouldn’t be a problem," Jack said after a sip. "Don’t underestimate the judges! In dance competitions, you get ten or twenty couples on stage at once, and the head and side judges still manage to pick out the best."
"So did you make it through?"
"Not yet, there are a few more rounds. If I make it to the semis, I’ll be one of just three or four. Should be done by noon, I think."
They say outsiders just watch for the fun, but insiders know what’s up. As an outsider, I gotta say, all these martial arts moves look flashy but useless in a real fight. So Jack the Conqueror, let me interview you—what’s your take as an expert?
"Expert agrees with the outsiders—most of these guys are all show, no substance." The prelim crowd was mostly just here for kicks, except for weirdos like Jack. The real pros skipped straight to the semis.
"So you’re saying the prelims are a breeze for you?"
"Nope, just the opposite." Jack looked dead serious. "If I don’t win that $10,000, it’ll only be because I bombed the prelims."
Maggie was shocked. "Why?"
"Because I’m worried the judges won’t get my style. Plus," Jack stood up and brushed off his clothes, ready for his next round, "I don’t actually know any routines. I just copy whatever the last guy did—totally winging it."