Chapter 8 — Hiding for Five Years, One Night Becomes Legend

They were sitting in a room that looked like a common room. Seeing me enter, seven pairs of eyes simultaneously turned towards me. Reflexively, I assessed myself — The first man, sitting on the far left, crew cut, over two meters tall, biceps bigger than my thighs. Looking at body shape, people tend to be strong, have long and deep breaths, and have a foundation of internal energy. The second man is tall and thin, wears glasses, and has very long fingers. Calluses on fingertips — callouses from shooting? No, the location is not correct. It's the bottle caused by holding a knife. Flying knife? Third person —

“Okay.” Thiet Son interrupted my observation, "There will be more time to get to know each other later."

He said one sentence to the people in the room: "New person. Alias waiting to be decided. Close combat ability — S level." The room fell silent for two seconds. Then, the muscular man over two meters tall stood up.

“S-class?”

He stared at me. Review from top to bottom. Then he smiled — not a very friendly smile.

"Just this guy? He's about 1m7 tall and weighs 75kg? Don't joke."

Thie Son said nothing. The guardian stepped in front of me. His shadow covers me.

“Brother, do you know the rules here?” He looked down at me, "The ghost just got in, you have to go through a level."

“What level?”

“Let's fight.” He cracked his arms, his joints making a "creaking" sound, "There are no rules, no time limits. If you can stand, then you can stay. Can't stand —"

“Dai Son.” Thiet Son's voice rang out from behind, evenly and calmly, "Don't scare new people."

“Boss, the rules are set by you.” The guardian — Dai Son — grinned, "Plus, S-Class? I don't believe it. Is there anyone here who has never killed someone? On what basis would he—"

“Yesterday I just knocked out 12 special forces of the enemy country with my bare hands.”

I opened my mouth. Not to show off. I just find it too troublesome to explain, so I'd rather say it straight out. The room was silent for a moment. Dai Son's smile stiffened. Then it widened again.

"Twelve people? That's great. But those guys are special forces."

He bowed his head and got close to my face.

"And I'm not a special forces soldier. I'm someone selected from a group of special forces soldiers."

His fists were clenched. I looked straight into his eyes. Then smiled softly.

“Then come.”

【Chapter 8】 Thiet Son did not stop. He leaned his back against the wall, crossed his arms, and seemed to have predicted this situation. The remaining six people did not move, still sitting in place, their eyes filled with curiosity and scrutiny. This is the test. I get it. Dai Son did not say much. He threw a straight punch. Extremely fast speed - not some military kick and punch, but real combat style, no unnecessary movements, aimed straight at the face. The wind broke through the wind, bringing with it a "whoosh" sound. The power of this punch, I conservatively estimate to exceed 500kg. If a normal person gets punched, their skull will instantly crumble. I didn't move. More precisely — I waited until the last moment to move. Tilt your head. The difference is exactly one inch. His fist grazed my ear, the wind from my knuckles blew my hair to the side. Dai Son's pupils shrank. But his reaction was very quick — the slide of the punch was firmly held back by him with his right elbow swept sideways, hitting me directly in the temple. The force of an elbow strike is more terrible than a punch. I raised my right hand —

“Ward off”.

Top in the Taiji Eight Dharmas. The arm rotated outward, tilted upward to support his elbow. The moment we touched, I felt his strength — Violent, fierce, as straight as a truck losing control. Tai Chi never confronts trucks head-on. Tai Chi gives way. Then sent that truck down the cliff.