The Birth Of A Legend

The air was filled with dust, and an invisible wave spread between the two of them. Boom!

Wen Zheming's fist stopped near the muscles of Mu Fan's tightly stretched forearm. When he felt the violent punch he had just delivered, a hint of doubt emerged in his heart, although he was satisfied.

Why did he not hear the sound of bones breaking?

At that moment, he felt his fist move along with his opponent's arm.

When the arm slowly withdrew, Wen Zheming happened to see Mu Fan's arrogant eyes and the corners of his lips curling up.

"You!" Wen Zheming could not hide the shock in his voice. He stared at Mu Fan and forced his left hand to hold his right arm.

Wen Zheming's right arm was almost unconscious, and his whole body was exhausted. He needed some time to recuperate.

There was a strange look in Mu Fan's eyes. "Young Master Wen, can't you move your hand?"

Wen Zheming clutched his wrist tightly, and a stern look emerged on his face. "You!"

Mu Fan said earnestly as he slowly lowered his arm. He almost made Young Master Wen, who was standing there recovering, mad.

"Young Master Wen, if your fist landed on my elbow just now, I believe you know the consequences. But I am a sparring partner, after all. I still love this job. So, do you still want to continue?"

Should he continue?

Wen Zheming felt his blood rush to his head, and his vision went dark.

He had been training with the army's combat experts since he was five years old. He had fallen, rolled, and fought since he was young. When he was recuperating, he used the best body tempering solution on this planet. He had hellish training that ordinary people would not be able to imagine in their lifetime. He was sent to the reserve force when he was twelve years old. He had killed and seen blood when he was thirteen. He returned to normal society three years later and became the ruthless Young Master Wen, who was spread by word of mouth in the circle.

Was he still going to fight? And now he was being questioned in all seriousness by a martial arts trainer.

"I… F*ck you!" Wen Zheming spat. He could not lift his right arm anymore, and he was exhausted.

However, it was obvious that the boy was afraid of hurting him. He did not dare to do anything to him.

"Hmph." Young Master Wen did not want to say another word, and his facial expression changed. He did not expect that the boy could withstand a Level 17 attack!

Mu Fan stopped his posture and slowly walked toward Wen Zheming. He looked at the fierce young man in front of him and said softly, "Young Master Wen."

Wen Zheming finally stopped looking at Mu fan like he was an inferior species. In any situation, strength was a person's best card. The boy in front of him was qualified for him to look up to him.

"Speak," Wen Zheming said without emotion.

"I wonder if Young Master Wen's words still count?"

How could Wen Zheming not know what Mu Fan wanted to say? He frowned and said coldly, "Go on."

"Mr. Man Kun, whose leg was broken on the first day, is my friend," said Mu Fan slowly after thinking for a while.

"And?" Wen Zheming frowned.

"He is my friend." Mu Fan looked straight at him.

"Are you sure you want to talk to me about this?" Wen Zheming's face was grim. The appreciation in his heart had just disappeared.

"I'm sure." A smile played on Mu Fan's lips. He was harmless.

Wen Zheming did not speak. He looked at Mu Fan and saw a pair of calm and indifferent eyes. His good mood, which had just been vented, began to dissipate.

Young Master Wen suddenly felt dull. He waved his hand and said, "Mankun, right? I see."

Mu Fan stood there without moving.

Wen Zheming acted as if he did not see Mu Fan. He sat back on the couch and pressed the internal call button for the dojo.

"I am Wen Zheming. Ask Chanison to come up."

Then, he looked at Mu Fan and waved his hand. "Let's go. Chanison will tell you later."

Mu Fan narrowed his eyes, looked deeply at Wen Zheming, then turned and walked out of the room.

After Mu Fan came out, he did not go downstairs. Instead, he went straight to Training Room 4, walked two corridors, and arrived at the door. He checked his identity and entered the room. The match just now had lasted less than an hour, and the fatty had not arrived. Mu Fan entered and sat on the training chair.

The corners of his mouth curled up.

Now he understood the deeper meaning of the combatant's words. He was warning himself to think first.

He had been able to cripple his opponent with a few punches just now, but he would probably have to run for his life next.

However, it was very comfortable to stretch his body. Mu Fan sat on the training chair and closed his eyes to take a nap.

But what he did not know was that in the next few days, the whole dojo was going crazy.

…

Chanison came down quickly with excitement on his face. Young Master Wen was satisfied!

Wen Zheming did not mention Mu Fan at all. After Chanison entered the house, he directly threw a card to Man Kun and fifty thousand to the big guy from yesterday afternoon. He waved his hand and directly left through the private passage. Before he left, he said with deep meaning, "Martial arts dojo, not bad."

Wen Zheming was completely gone! This was worth the hat Chanison threw at him. Young Master Wen's expression showed that he was not unhappy with the dojo at all. He even deliberately pointed out Ming Mankun and Jelf with the card he threw before he left. Was this the brutal Wen Zheming he knew?

Would he still ask Young Master Wen to pay? However, he thought that he would be digging his own grave if he misunderstood Wen Zheming's intention and sent him back. He shrank back. Chanison decided to fork out another sum of money from the dojo. Man Kun, who had decided to break off their relationship, would let him stay in the logistics department. That big guy, Jelf, was lucky. If Young Master Wen missed a little, it would be enough for him to work for half a year without eating or drinking.

Chanison went downstairs with a red face. He hummed along the way as he walked past the training grounds of the trainers and coaches.

The people in Training Ground No. 5 on the first floor looked at each other in surprise and doubt as they stood behind Chanison.

"What did Chani take?"

"He gave birth?"

"Nonsense! His wife is not pregnant."

"He is going to be a father!" A sparring partner who was dumbfounded nodded with certainty.

"Idiot!" the people around him scolded him.

Chanison suddenly remembered. Where was Mu Fan?

So he turned and asked, "Where's Mu Fan?"

Everyone was silent.

"Mu Fan?"

Everyone was dumbfounded. Didn't he go up? Didn't you go up too? Why did you ask us?

"Mu Fan didn't come down?" Chanison suddenly realized that the people in the dojo were so silly.

"No, no. Didn't he… go up? I… didn't see him come down," stammered someone.

Chanison frowned and called the staff beside him.

"Look at where Mu Fan is."

"Wait a minute, Mr. Chaney. Let me see… In VIP4 on the third floor."

"This boy is interesting. I'll give him 2,000 RMB as a bonus later." Chaney was in a good mood and was ready to go back to his office to ask Mu Fan. Amazing boy!

Thinking of that, Chanison turned and scolded the man who had just opened his mouth. "You can't even speak properly. You are like a piece of trash. Learn from Mu Fan!" He then stepped into the hover ladder with his hands behind his back.

When everyone was still confused, what did Mu Fan do? What did he do? The cleaning crew came down from the third floor carrying two broken boxing targets.

"Tsk, tsk. What kind of pervert is this in Room 1? This is a super tenacious Luo River cotton and a spring that absorbs energy. It is a boxing target designed by a Level 15 strength standard. It can even be used badly!"

His voice was neither loud nor soft, but it reached the ears of the people there.

The entire training ground exploded.

Man Kun and Jelf were seriously injured in the dojo, and then a boy who ate ten bento boxes finished his sparring and continued the next round.

A fist target designed by Level 15 strength standards! It was broken!

Mu Fan!? The group of people looked at each other blankly and nodded.

…

So the legend of the strongest punching bag in the dojo… was born that day.

* * * * *