Woyu’s Getaway

The man raised his foot high then stomped down, stabbing the pointy nose of his boot deeply into Woyu's stomach. The pain sent Woyu into oblivion for a moment, but he was pulled back to reality in the next moment. Blood was lining his lips, and he could sense his veins bulging.

Even though his stomach felt like it had ruptured, this was not the hardest blow he received. 

"I am an old-fashioned man," the man, who Woyu did not know by name, huffed out a sarcastic laugh, "I'm more fond of this old school method, whether or not you are posthuman." 

Suddenly, Woyu felt a rippling pain from his scalp as the man lifted him up by grabbing his hair. While air began to rush into his chest, his vision returned and the appearance of the man rammed into his eyes. The man had a square face, and to Woyu's surprise, he looked even more decent than him.

"The pain tolerance of a person is predetermined by his physiological structure."