Chapter 7 Kung Fu Enthusiast_1

Los Angeles is only two hundred kilometers from San Diego, and by leaving in the morning, we entered the downtown area of Los Angeles around noon.

But Captain took Joey and Rubber away, no, it was Frank and Joey and Rubber who left, they had to arrange Wild Bull's affairs, after all, driving around Los Angeles with a dead body in the car was indeed inappropriate.

As for the task of getting Gao Guang ready for his new job, Frank handed it over to John, because John volunteered to take the newcomer under his wing.

John's face was very round, which is why he got the nickname Bottle Cap, and his round face always seemed cheerful, always wearing a smile, which made Gao Guang feel even more so that John was a good person.

Gao Guang had a good impression of John, of course, how could he not feel fond of someone who was willing to help him voluntarily?

Now both Gao Guang and John were eager to fill their stomachs, and John chose a fast-food restaurant, but as soon as they got their food and had just sat down, John couldn't wait to start his speech.

"I saved you, you know? It was me who shot the kidnapper's head off last night, or else it would have been your head that was blown off. So you owe me a favor."

John bit fiercely into his hamburger and then continued, "Not only did I save you, but I also have to look after you; frankly, I hate playing nanny to anyone, but do you know why I took on this job?"

"Why?"

John said with a serious face, "Because I know you can do Kung Fu. I saw it last night and I saw it very clearly. You must know Kung Fu, right?"

Gao Guang was very hungry, so he couldn't just focus on talking; after biting fiercely into his burger, he nodded and mumbled, "I do know Kung Fu, but it might not be what you think. I practice routines."

John's eyes lit up a bit. He said earnestly, "What are routines?"

"It's like... martial arts with a performative nature, not so strong in real combat, just for performance. I don't know if that makes sense to you."

Gao Guang chose to tell the truth because if he pretended to be a master, it would be very easy to expose himself and also likely to attract unpredictable consequences.

Yet Gao Guang's explanation left John a bit confused.

"What do you mean by martial arts with a performative nature?"

"It means they can't be used in real grappling, they just look good when performed."

John frowned and then said seriously, "I am a die-hard fan of Jackie Chan, very die-hard. Of course, I also love Bruce Lee a lot. They have two different styles, and I've wanted to learn Huaxia Kung Fu since I was very young, but I was born in a small place, where there was no Huaxia martial arts school, in fact, it was even rare to see Huaxia people."

Shrugging, John, eyes shining, pointed at Gao Guang and said, "But now it's different. I saved you, you owe me a favor, and I still have to take care of you, so you should teach me a couple of moves."

Gao Guang was stunned for a moment, then said with amazement, "You want to learn Kung Fu from me?"

"Yes, I want to learn."

Gao Guang was rather hesitant, "Are you serious?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

Gao Guang sighed and said, "Okay, I can teach you, but I must clarify beforehand that what I practice are the routines of Long Fist, Stick Skills, and Blade Skills, all of which are individual events in martial arts competitions."

John said earnestly, "That sounds great. So do you think at my age I still have a chance to become a master?"

"A master? What's your understanding of a master?"

John put down his hamburger, clenched his fists, and said solemnly, "Someone who can fight, of course. I don't expect to become a top-notch master, but at least, I should be able to take on three at a time!"

"Uh, by three, do you mean people of average level?"

John's face scrunched up, and he replied very dissatisfied, "Average people? If it's about fighting average people, why would I need to learn Kung Fu from you? I served five years in the Marine Corps, and right now, I can easily handle three average people. What I mean is to at least defeat three people of the same level as me—any problem with that?"

There was a problem, and it was a big one.

Gao Guang was sure he couldn't beat John just by looking at his build.

Firstly, John was very burly. Although his face was round and large, and his neck quite thick, he wasn't fat at all, and his body was robust, which clearly indicated his resistance to physical strikes couldn't be poor.

As for Gao Guang, he was 182 centimeters tall, but only weighed 65 kilograms, as skinny as bean sprouts, which indeed made it convenient for him to move swiftly and flip over effortlessly, but if he had nothing in his hands, even if John stood still and let him strike, he probably couldn't make a dent.

So after much thought, Gao Guang decided to be honest rather than risk being seen as a fraud by John later on.

"Uh, this... Kung Fu movies are still movies, and movies are fake. That is to say, no matter how much you train, it's no use. If you want to learn real Kung Fu, you have to find a real Kung Fu master."

Gao Guang was being honest, but before he could finish, John's eyes began to shine.

"You must be a real master, you must be!"

Gao Guang was astonished; he really didn't know how he had given off the impression of a master.

John spoke very earnestly, "I'm sure I've been to martial arts schools to learn Kung Fu, and every master there told me he was the best, a master, a descendant of some generation of a certain Huaxia style. But the moment I asked to have a try, I'd find that they would fall after a single round. Buddy, I've already defeated eleven martial arts coaches, and you are different, you're humble."

Gao Guang was once again astonished, extremely so, and he couldn't help but say, "After all this, you still believe Kung Fu is... real?"

"Of course! Kung Fu is definitely real. Are you testing me? You must be!"

Hell with the test, Gao Guang himself didn't believe in so-called ancient martial arts or that martial arts were practical for combat, so he felt utterly perplexed and asked, "Can you tell me, why are you so confident in Kung Fu?"

John sighed, then said very seriously, "Six years ago, back when I'd just become a mercenary... no, when I first became part of a PMC, in the Green Zone of Baghdad, I saw an underground boxing match where a Huaxia man knocked out his opponent with just one move. That Huaxia man was very thin, about the same as you, and much shorter than you, yet the one he knocked down was at least twice his weight. It was like a featherweight boxer defeating a heavyweight boxer, and all with a single blow."

"He was using grappling or Sanda, but definitely not Kung Fu. I don't want to admit it, but I have to tell the truth."

"No, he was using Baji Fist, that's right, that's what he said."

Gao Guang's mouth dropped open slightly, looking at John in astonishment, while John continued, "I say this because right after, he participated in the next boxing match, a no-holds-barred cage fight. Five contestants entered, and the last man standing alone would win a hundred thousand dollars. It was a big match, you know there's not much entertainment in the Green Zone, so many participated, and a lot of people bet, of course the prize money was generous, too."

Gao Guang swallowed and asked, "Then what happened?"

"Then he knocked down four of them. You can surely imagine, but at that time, I... at that time..."

John gestured like his head was exploding, his face filled with devotion, "At that time, it felt like my head had exploded, because I realized that the dream of my childhood had come true right before my eyes."

Now Gao Guang felt like his own head was about to explode because he couldn't believe that Kung Fu was that formidable; but looking at John, it seemed he wasn't just boasting, so Gao Guang began to feel things were starting to get surreal.