The underground club was full of life that night, with the crowd cheering and shouting as fighters faced off in the ring. Jeok Ryeong was there, watching from the shadows, with his shining red hair under the flickering lights. He was clear that this day would be different. He would no longer enter the ring just to resist; now he had a plan, a strategy based on the principles he had developed for his new style.
As he adjusted the wraps on his hands, he felt the anticipation grow inside him. The palms of his hands were now his main weapons. It was time to start refining his technique in a real environment, facing fighters who would push him to the limit.
Jeok stepped into the ring, facing a bulky, experienced opponent. The man's muscles were a clear sign of his strength, but Jeok wasn't there to compete in brute force. His focus was on the principles of his style.
The fight began with the man throwing a heavy punch toward Jeok's torso. Instead of simply dodging, Jeok raised his palm, redirecting the punch to the side. The deflection was smooth, but still imperfect; the opponent's arm grazed his side, causing slight pain. However, Jeok noticed something important—he had managed to destabilize his rival slightly.
When the man tried to recover and launch another attack, Jeok performed a quick push with both palms toward his chest. The movement was calculated, using the opponent's force against him. Although the impact wasn't enough to knock him down, the man staggered backward, clearly surprised by the tactic.
As the fight progressed, Jeok began to move as he had practiced. His movements were fluid, constantly changing direction. He made sure not to stay static, always taking short steps to the sides, like the threads of a web that intertwine and shift. His palm attacks, though not yet devastating, started to show a clear pattern of confusion for his opponent.
When the man tried a side kick toward his head, Jeok turned his body and extended his palm to hit the opponent's leg, deflecting it downward. The move was precise, and the opponent briefly lost balance. The crowd made a noise of approval, clearly impressed by Jeok's unique style.
However, despite his progress, Jeok faced the same problem he had identified before: his style lacked an attack that could cause significant damage. His deviations and pushes were effective in controlling the pace of the fight, but not enough to win.
Although Jeok lost the match, he left the ring with a slight smile on his face. He had learned something new that night: his style had potential, but a crucial piece was still missing. In his mind, the principles of the Ryeong Style expanded, and a new conclusion became clear. He needed an attack move that complemented the fluidity and energy redirection he had already developed.
"My movements confuse and control, but they don't knock down. I need something more."
The night was quiet, but there was a tense feeling in the air, as if something was about to happen. Jeok Ryeong was in his apartment, sitting in front of his notebook, elbows resting on the table, with his red eyes fixed on the pages filled with notes. His mind was immersed in developing his new fighting style, searching for an attack that would complement the fluidity of his movements and the precision of his pushes. Despite his progress, he knew there was still much to do.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps and knocks on the door broke the silence. Jeok raised his gaze, his body tensing instantly. He knew who they were. They came once a month, like clockwork. The debt collectors were here.
The knocks intensified, accompanied by rough voices and demands. —Open the door, kid! We know you're in there.
Jeok took a deep breath, quickly closing his notebook and placing it on the table. He stood up and walked toward the door, feeling his heartbeat quicken slightly. He knew what was waiting. He slowly unlatched the door, revealing the three men who had been his constant torment since his father disappeared. The bulky one, the thin one, and another who rarely spoke but whose cold, calculating face intimidated more than words.
—How's it going, kid? —asked the bulky one with a twisted smile—. Making enough money to pay?
Jeok didn't respond immediately, maintaining a firm gaze. Although he had been fighting constantly and saving what he could, he knew it wouldn't be enough to appease these men.
The thin one, always quick with sarcastic comments, intervened. —Look, we know you're doing your best, but time's running out. If you can't pay, maybe we have to find another way to compensate.
The bulky man stepped forward, crossing his arms while looking at Jeok with a mix of mockery and threat. —Or maybe you could fight something more serious. Big bets can take you far, if you survive, that is.
Jeok stayed still, breathing deeply as he considered his options. He knew big bets meant facing much more dangerous opponents—people who fought not only for money but for power and reputation. But he also knew that if he kept walking the path he was on, he could improve enough to face them.
—I'll keep fighting —Jeok responded in a calm but determined voice—. The money will come.
The thin one let out a dry laugh. —I hope so, kid. Because patience isn't our greatest virtue.
After a few moments of tense silence, the men finally left, leaving Jeok alone with his thoughts. He closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling deeply. Although the threat from the debt collectors was still present, he didn't let fear paralyze him. Instead, his mind returned to the Ryeong Style.
"I need to create that attack soon," he thought, feeling a renewed sense of urgency. "The fights will get more serious, and I can't rely only on my defense."
Jeok walked to the table, took out his notebook, and started writing again, exploring ideas for a finishing move that could complement everything he had built so far. He knew the pressure was pushing him to his limits, but he also knew that it was there, on that edge, where he could reach his true potential.
The streets of the underground world seemed too limited for Jeok Ryeong as he searched for the perfect training spot. He knew that to develop his martial art, he needed a space where he could be alone, away from the constant noise of the city and curious eyes. The forest, with its peaceful atmosphere and fresh air, became the ideal refuge. There, among the tall trees and the sound of leaves whispering in the wind, Jeok found the peace he needed to deepen his training.
......
Standing among the trees, Jeok adopted a low, stable stance, with his legs slightly bent. He had spent hours practicing his balance, making sure each movement started from a solid base. He knew this stance was crucial to generate momentum and strength for his new attack.
His arms were positioned in front of him, with relaxed but ready hands. The preparation of his body was meticulous, every detail calculated. Jeok visualized his opponents, imagining them in front of him, and began to move, adjusting his leg and arm positions until he found the perfect balance.
With a quick, decisive step, Jeok closed the distance between himself and his target—in this case, a sturdy tree he had marked as his practice point. During the charge, he kept his body aligned, focusing all his strength on one point.
He used his dominant hand, bent backward, while keeping his palm open and fingers slightly apart. With a final push, he extended his arm forward like a spear, striking directly with his palm on the surface of the tree. The impact resonated in the air, and although the tree remained intact, the vibrant sound of the hit showed the intensity of the movement.
"All my strength must be concentrated in a single point," he thought as he adjusted his position to repeat the attack with the other hand. It was a move that required precision, strength, and speed, and although still imperfect, it had potential.
Over and over, Jeok practiced the movement against the trees, refining the alignment of his body, the extension of his arm, and the impact of his palm. Each repetition brought him one step closer to finding the definitive form of the attack. His arm muscles started to burn after hours of practice, but Jeok didn't stop. He knew that, to create something truly unique and effective, he had to push his own limits.
Finally, when his arms could no longer lift weight and each movement felt like a challenge, Jeok collapsed on the ground, breathing deeply as he looked up at the sky. The forest seemed to surround him, as if the silence of the place acknowledged his effort. It was in that moment, as his thoughts wandered through the details of the movement, that he made a decision.
"This strike will be the first official move of the Ryeong Style. I'll call it Spear Filo."
The name represented the intensity and precision of the attack, as well as the idea that his palm could act as a spear, piercing the weak points of his opponents. It was the beginning of something bigger, the first step toward the full refinement of his martial art.
Jeok got up after resting, his arms still heavy but his mind more focused than ever. He knew there was still work to do to perfect the Spear Filo, but he also knew he was on the right path. As he walked among the trees, he visualized how this move could change his fights, how he could use it to overcome his weaknesses and finally start winning.
"This is just the beginning," he thought with a slight smile on his face. "The Ryeong Style is taking shape, and with it, my destiny."
...........
The week was exhausting but transformative for Jeok Ryeong. He had spent days perfecting the Ryeong Style: Spear Filo among the forest trees, building strength in his arms and precision in each movement. In the underground club, his fights continued showing his progress in controlling the rhythm and redirecting energy, but he still kept his special attack reserved. He knew he wasn't ready to use it yet. Every fight taught him new lessons, but Jeok understood that he couldn't reveal the Spear Filo until the perfect moment.
Now, that night had arrived. Jeok was at the edge of the ring, adjusting the wraps on his hands while observing the man on the other side. He was tall, athletic, with a stance that revealed his experience as a boxer. His fists were wrapped in white wraps that contrasted with the tough expression on his face.
"A boxer..." Jeok thought, with a mix of concentration and expectation. He knew facing someone with that style would be different. Boxers relied on the speed and strength of their punches, but they also tended to leave the rest of their body less protected. If there was ever a perfect opportunity to test his move, it was this.
The referee gave the signal, and the boxer launched forward with a quick jab aimed at Jeok's face. Staying true to his style, Jeok didn't dodge conventionally. Instead, he moved his palm toward the side of the opponent's arm, redirecting the punch with precision. The crowd made a noise of approval, impressed by the fluidity of the movement.
The boxer wasted no time. He moved quickly, throwing a combination of punches to Jeok's torso and face, maintaining a steady rhythm. Jeok began to move in fluid patterns, turning to the sides and constantly changing direction, like the threads of a web weaving patterns. With every punch from the boxer, Jeok deflected the attack, using the opponent's energy against him.
"He's confident," Jeok thought as he analyzed the man's movements. "His punches are fast, but he's focusing too much on the attacks. His torso is open."
In a quick exchange, the boxer threw a hook toward Jeok's side. It was a strong but predictable move. Jeok leaned back, avoiding the impact, and saw an opening. With a quick charge, he closed the distance between them, keeping his body aligned to concentrate all his strength.
Using his dominant hand, bent backward, with his palm open and fingers slightly apart, he made an explosive move, extending his arm as a spear, hitting the boxer directly in the torso. The blow echoed in the air, and the man staggered backward with an expression of surprise.
The crowd fell silent for a brief moment before erupting into cheers. It was clear that the attack had caused a significant impact. Though it didn't knock the boxer down, the hit had changed the dynamics of the fight. The man looked at Jeok with a mix of irritation and respect, adjusting his stance as he caught his breath.
Jeok knew that the Spear Filo still needed more refinement, but he had demonstrated its effectiveness. For the rest of the match, the boxer was more cautious, keeping his guard high while seeking an opening. Jeok continued moving with fluidity, combining deflections and pushes while studying his rival. Although the fight ended in a draw, Jeok left a clear impression on everyone present.
That night, as he left the underground club, Jeok felt a mix of satisfaction and determination. He had managed to introduce his move into a real fight, but he also knew he had to perfect it. Every time he practiced it, he would get closer to turning the Ryeong Style into a complete and effective martial art.