To be precise—the three punks were completely stunned by Shawn Young's sudden and ridiculously "flashy" entrance!
Shawn Young stood there with messy, greasy hair, a faint stubble on his face, and a somewhat dreamy look in his eyes. Most notably, he was almost naked—just a pitifully small pair of red briefs clinging to his hips. With his hands on his waist, the night breeze swept through the little grove and, somehow, into his underwear. A few mischievous, shiny black curls poked out from a tiny hole in the front, as if shouting and showing off...
Some men are destined to stand out in life—like a hundred-yuan bill in the grass, a Rolls-Royce on the street, a goldfish in a toilet, or a condom box hanging at a street corner. Even like a rooster among hens, they always remind you of their existence in the most unexpected ways...
"Uh... hey, buddy... where did you come from? You should head back quickly, or the Greenhill Psychiatric Hospital on the hill will close soon... The doctors will be worried if they can't find you, okay? Be good and go back!" One of the punks finally snapped out of it and tried to "helpfully" persuade Shawn, already convinced he was an escaped patient from Greenhill Psychiatric Hospital!
"I'll say it one more time, you three beasts! Let go of that girl right now! Or else..." Shawn Young ignored the "well-meaning" advice and repeated what he said earlier.
"Heh... Dude, who the hell do you think you are? You think you can scare people or ghosts just by showing up in red underwear? Get lost and go play with your own balls, don't get in the way of our fun..." Another punk cursed at Shawn, then ignored him and went back to tugging at the young woman's belt.
"I'll say it one last time... Let her go now, or I won't be so nice! Got it?" Shawn said, swallowing nervously. He knew he was acting impulsively—sure, his strength had grown, but he wasn't confident about taking on three guys at once.
The punk who'd just been kicked in the nuts by the young woman—Big Dave—was furious. Really, truly pissed. Just as his dick was finally getting its mojo back, this crazy bastard Shawn barged in, ruining everything and making his hard-on shrivel up again. If this kept up, he swore his cock would die of rage!
Fed up, Big Dave stood up and reached into his clothes, pulling out a bullhorn knife. With a press—"click"—the sharp, shiny blade flashed in the night.
You little shit! You really fucking dare mess up my good time? Now I'm gonna fuck you up! If you've got any brains, squat down, put your hands on your head, and let us stomp your ass. Then go home and play with your own damn balls! Otherwise, I'll show you what bleeding from your crotch really means...
Shawn was startled. He swallowed hard again, not expecting the guy to be packing a knife. If he got stabbed in the nuts, he'd be a dead hero—just another loser who got his balls busted by some punk. Now that would be a tragedy!
Big Dave saw the fear on Shawn's face and felt great. Grinning wickedly, he stepped closer, sizing Shawn up. "Hey, man, you called us beasts, but I think you're even more of an animal! We still have our clothes on, but you—you're already dressed for action! Heh, you want a piece of the fun, too, huh?"
"Fun, my ass!" Shawn spat back, then suddenly lifted his right foot and kicked Big Dave hard—right in the crotch, from below!
Thud...! "Waaah!!"
Caught off guard, Big Dave let out a scream like a slaughtered pig. Shawn's powerful kick sent him flying out of the grove, smashing through a wooden fence and leaving a gaping hole. He foamed at the mouth and passed out, blood seeping from his crotch. Looks like his family jewels are never going to be whole again...
"You little punk! How dare you sneak attack! That was dirty!!" The other two punks let go of the young woman and stood up. One of them immediately aimed a vicious kick at Shawn's crotch, clearly wanting revenge for Big Dave.
But life isn't fair. Only those with power get to speak, so there's no such thing as justice... The punks hadn't figured this out yet, so Shawn gave them a lesson.
He dodged the kick with a quick side-step, then grabbed the attacker's leg and twisted. Crack! The punk collapsed, clutching his thigh and howling in pain.
After dodging the kick, Shawn saw the punk's crotch wide open, practically begging: "Come on! Kick me right here!"
Shawn didn't hold back. He lifted his right foot and nailed the punk square in the nuts—crack! Shawn could almost hear the sound of balls breaking. He wondered if he'd gone too far...
"Aaaagh!! My balls! My balls... they're smashed... totally smashed..." The punk collapsed on the ground, clutching his crotch and howling in agony.
The last punk panicked. He grabbed a chunk of wood from somewhere and screamed as he swung it at Shawn's head. Shawn's eyes narrowed—he tracked the wood's trajectory perfectly and dodged to the side. Bang! The wood missed and smashed a hole in the grass.
Before the punk could swing again, Shawn closed in, grabbed the wood, and slammed it right into the guy's crotch—crack! The wood snapped in two against his nuts. The punk didn't have Shaolin Iron Crotch skills, and he definitely didn't drink Iron Bird soy sauce, so his fate was the same as the others. He screamed, doubled over, and rolled on the grass clutching his crotch, wailing like a roasted shrimp.