Fist of Fate

 "Is he really hiding his strength?" Lerato wondered as she looked at Tristin. "He's even more handsome when he's focused," she thought.

"Are they dating?" a student asked, noticing Tristin and Lerato hand in hand.

"Nah, I bet he's asking Lerato to help him deal with Thomas. This Tristin guy looks timid," another student replied.

"Yeah, you're right. He looked pretty pathetic in that photo, all sweaty and frowning," one student agreed.

"His hand feels so strong and warm, but mostly comforting," Lerato continued her thoughts. As she looked around and saw other students watching them, she realized it was the first time she'd been held by a boy. "Let go of me, you pervert!" she said, pulling her hand away, though her blushing face betrayed her words.

"Why are you being such a drag all of a sudden? And stop calling me a pervert," Tristin said, frowning at Lerato.

"You are a pervert, pervert, pervert!" Lerato retorted, sticking her tongue out and folding her hands as the results her boots stick out yet again.

Tristin shook his head, hands on his hips. "You are such a child."

"You two, stop fighting here. We're almost there. Lerato, Tristin needs to focus, so cut out your pervert obsession," Max interjected, stepping between them.

"Thank you, Max. She's trying to distract me with her boobs so her cousin can finally drive a Ferrari," Tristin said, heading toward the student parking.

"I hope you get the beating you deserve!" Lerato yelled as she ran after Tristin.

Max shook his head, following them. "Oh, so young and in love," he thought.

As Tristin entered the parking lot, laughter and mockery began.

"Say goodbye to your Ferrari, poor boy," one boy taunted.

"This is Bongsburg, not Playville. You'll learn that the hard way today," another student shouted.

Some students who pitied Tristin said nothing but shook their heads.

Tristin also said nothing, but thought, "I'm going to give them a shock they won't forget."

The students parted to let Tristin through, their laughter and jeers filling the air.

"We'll see who has the last laugh," Max said loudly, a hint of anger in his voice.

From the balcony of the faculty building, Miss Megan watched the scene with a cup of coffee in hand. "Does he really think these students are the same as those from St. Peter's High School?" she muttered, shaking her head and taking a sip.

Inside the security house by the main entrance, one guard asked, "Did they bring a copy of the duel contract?"

"Here it is. The stakes are high for students. This kind of bet is usually seen among businessmen," another guard replied, watching the parking lot on a monitor.

"If the contract is legit and abides by the martial arts law, it's fine. Who do you think will win?" the first guard asked.

"Thomas is strong. He'll definitely win," the second guard said.

"I bet 1,000 Rand on Tristin," Mr. Masombuka said as he entered.

The two guards looked at him like he was crazy, eager to make money. They both bet 1,000 Rand on Thomas, hoping to share Mr. Masombuka's 1,000 Rand.

Tristin and his group finally reached the center of the crowd. Thomas and his gang stood on a stage made from bricks then filled with concrete of about a meter high and seven meters square.

"You finally showed up. I've been waiting for too long," Thomas said, looking down at Tristin.

"Are you that eager to get your ass handed to you?" Tristin replied with a smile, looking up at Thomas.

Thomas laughed, and the crowd followed suit. He raised his hand, and everyone stopped laughing.

Thomas looked at Mbali, who was standing next to him, then back at Tristin with a smug smile. "I just can't wait to drive my new car and celebrate in style," he said, spreading his arms wide.

"Oh really? When I'm done with you, you won't even have a car to celebrate with, and that ugly duckling next to you won't even look at you," Tristin said, raising an eyebrow.

"Who are you calling ugly, you piece of tras…" Mbali started, but Thomas placed a finger on her lips.

"Don't bother yourself with him. We only want his car. Let him speak his mind since it'll be the last time anyone pays attention to him," Thomas said.

"Why don't you come up here and say that to my face?" Thomas challenged, gesturing with his hand.

Tristin took off his backpack and handed it to Lerato. "Hold this for me while I beat the crap out of your cousin," he said, looking into her eyes with a smile.

Lerato took the backpack, nodding with a smile. "Okay," she said.

Max asked, "Are you sure you can take him?" his eyebrows narrowing.

"I don't know, but we'll see in a bit," Tristin replied, turning around and stepping onto the stage.

Lerato, still holding the backpack, shouted, "I'm not your personal maid, Tristin!" She threw the backpack to Max. "Why do I keep falling for his tricks?" she wondered aloud.

Tristin shook his head but said nothing.

"Do you think he can win? Why is he so confident?" some students asked, their curiosity piqued.

"I still don't feel any qi energy in him. I think he's bluffing," one student, also a martial artist, said.

"Tell your lackeys to scram. I hate sharing the stage with trash," Tristin said as soon as he entered the stage, his hands behind his back.

"This guy is so full of himself," students murmured, shaking their heads.

"You talk big for a guy who was sweating this morning. Do you really think we've forgotten your pathetic state, or should I show you that picture?" Thomas asked with a smile.

"I admit, I looked pathetic in that picture," Tristin said, nodding. "But that wasn't because of the post."

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "So you say, but I think otherwise."

"Alright, let's get started. I have places to be and people to meet," Tristin said, one hand behind his back and the other gesturing for Thomas to come at him.

Thomas told his gang to get off the stage, and the girl overseeing the duel stepped up.

"Car keys, please," she said, her voice pleasant.

Thomas and Tristin both handed her their car keys.

"The winner will be determined if the other party gives up or can't fight anymore. You may begin," she announced, signaling them to start.

Thomas wasted no time, stepping hard on the concrete floor and leaping toward Tristin, a gust of wind following him. "I want to finish this fight with one punch," he thought, screaming as he flew through the air at high speed. "Fist of fate!" he yelled.

"So much power from just a fist," the onlookers marveled.

"Thomas is using his Fist of Fate right from the start. Tristin is a goner," Sipho said, his eyes glowing.

"That's one of the Ngobeni secret techniques. The Fist of Fate is all about power, speed, and precision," one of the students explained.

Max gritted his teeth, holding Tristin's backpack, his eyes fixed on Tristin.

"Thomas wants to hurt Tristin beyond repair. I should stop this. If that punch connects, Tristin's internal organs could be severely damaged. He might be hospitalized for years," Lerato thought, preparing to intervene.