The night was peaceful in Jeok Ryeong's apartment, but his mind was far from resting. The worn-out lamp on the table cast a soft light, illuminating the closed notebook in front of him. His hands, still bandaged and marked from recent training and fights, moved slowly toward the notebook. He took it and opened it carefully, as if handling something sacred.
The pages were filled with notes, drawings, and principles that had shaped his martial art. At the center of it all was his creation: the Ryeong Style, his legacy in the making. Jeok flipped through the pages until he reached the section where he had written his first official move. There, in bold and decisive letters, it read, "Filo Spear."
He looked at the words for a moment, recalling the days in the forest, the countless hours of practice, muscles burning from the effort. All that sacrifice had culminated in this attack. It was the first step toward defining his style completely, the beginning of something that could change his destiny.
Alongside the description of the move, he had written the details precisely:
Posture: Low and stable, with legs bent to maximize momentum.
Charge: Speed to close the distance with the opponent, keeping the body aligned.
Impact: Open palm and slightly separated fingers, focusing all force on a specific point on the opponent's torso or face.
Jeok ran his fingers over the words, as if reaffirming his commitment to each principle. He knew this move was not perfect yet, that there was much to improve, but he also knew it was only the beginning.
"It's the first," he thought, closing the notebook. "But it won't be the last. My style will grow with every fight, with every training session. I won't stop until it's complete."
He stood up from the chair, leaving the notebook on the table, and looked out the window. The city lights shimmered in the distance, but Jeok focused on the horizon. The fight continued, and each day was an opportunity to move forward. As his eyes burned with determination, a slight smile appeared on his face.
"The Ryeong Style will not be forgotten. It will start with the Filo Spear, but this is only the beginning of what I can achieve."
Months had passed since Jeok Ryeong began building his own legacy in the underground fighting world. Now, at 15 years old, his body was stronger, his technique more refined, and his determination fiercer than ever. The relentless training and time had transformed what was once a defensive style into a decent and unique martial art.
The Filo Spear move, which had once been just an experiment, had now become his deadliest attack. Every palm strike was precise, fast, and, most importantly, devastating. Jeok's ability to redirect his opponents' force and combine it with calculated strikes made him unpredictable in the ring. The sense of confusion his fluidity in fights generated was no longer a tactic to distract; it was now the prelude to an impact that could end any fight.
In the Underground Club
The atmosphere in the underground club had changed in recent months. Jeok's fights now attracted special attention. Everyone wanted to see the red-haired boy, who seemed to move like a shadow among his opponents, then take them down with unexpected strength. That night was no different. The flashing lights illuminated the ring, and the crowd was full of expectations as Jeok prepared for his next fight.
Across from him stood a much older man, with evident experience and strength in his physique. Known in the club as a fierce fighter who never backed down. But even someone like that couldn't help but look cautiously at Jeok, who remained calm, in a relaxed stance but clearly ready to attack.
The referee signaled, and the fight began.
The man charged with force, trying to overwhelm Jeok with quick and precise strikes. However, Jeok was now more than a defensive fighter. With fluid movements and unpredictable patterns, he deflected attacks with the palms of his hands, redirecting his opponent's force with almost elegant precision. Every movement seemed part of a dance, and the crowd watched in awe.
—You can't touch me! —Jeok said, his voice calm but firm, while deflecting another blow.
At a key moment, Jeok found his opportunity. The man threw a direct punch, putting too much weight on his support foot. Recognizing the imbalance instantly, Jeok charged forward. With his body aligned and all his strength focused.
STYLE RYEONG: FILO SPEAR.
His open palm struck directly on the man's torso, the dry sound of the blow echoing throughout the club.
The boxer staggered backward, eyes wide with surprise and pain. Jeok Ryeong lost no time. The opportunity was right in front of him, and he knew he had to take advantage of it. With his other hand, in the form of a palm, he launched a direct punch toward the opponent's jaw. The impact was precise, and the man let out a groan as a thread of blood escaped from his mouth.
The crowd, which had been silent for a moment, started to scream with excitement. Jeok didn't stop. His body moved with fluidity, as if each punch was part of a carefully designed pattern. With both palms, he struck the opponent's shoulders, destabilizing him even more. Each impact was calculated, aimed at specific points that amplified the damage.
The rival tried to recover his stance, but Jeok was already a step ahead. With a quick movement, he threw a palm strike to the man's chest, making his breath catch for a moment. The audience was on the edge of their seats, watching how the red-haired boy dominated the fight with a technique that seemed almost artistic.
Finally, Jeok prepared for the final blow. With his dominant palm, he performed an upward hook aimed at the rival's chin. The impact was devastating, and the man fell to the ground, defeated. The crowd erupted in shouts and applause, while the judge declared Jeok's victory.
Jeok stood in the center of the ring, breathing deeply as he looked at the fallen man in front of him. It wasn't just a victory; each punch had been a piece of a puzzle Jeok had built with patience and dedication.
As he left the ring, with the crowd's shouts still echoing in his ears, Jeok knew this was only the beginning. His style was evolving, and with each fight, he was getting closer to becoming the fighter he had always dreamed of.
Jeok Ryeong was sitting in his apartment, with the soft light of the lamp illuminating the notebook in front of him. His mind, as always, was focused on the Ryeong Style. Although the Filo Spear had proven to be effective, he knew his style still had more potential to discover. He had begun to think of a new move, one that could expand his tactics and adapt to different situations.
While moving his hands in front of him, he imagined how his palms could move with even more fluidity, perhaps to create a multiple attack or something that could break through the defenses of the tougher opponents. But he knew this move wouldn't be easy to create. He would have to train more, experiment with new positions, and fine-tune every detail until reaching perfection.
"It will be something big, something powerful," he thought as he jot down ideas in his notebook. "But I will need time and a lot of practice."
Jeok knew it was time to fulfill the debt collectors. Every month they appeared at his door, expecting the money he had accumulated through his fights. This time, he decided to get ahead. He took his phone, dialed the number he had memorized for a while, and waited for an answer.
—Jeok? —came the rough voice on the other end—. Do you have the money?
—Yes —Jeok said, maintaining a firm tone—. Come pick it up tonight.
There was a brief silence before the man responded. —That's what I like to hear. We'll be there in an hour.
Jeok hung up and sighed, looking at the money he had placed on the table. Each bill represented hours of fighting and training, sacrifices he had made to pay off the debt his father left behind. But at the same time, he knew each day brought him closer to his goal.
When the debt collectors arrived, Jeok handed over the money without unnecessary words. While the burly man checked the bills, the slim one couldn't help but make one of his usual remarks. —You keep surprising me, kid. I didn't think you'd last this long in this.
Jeok, without changing his expression, replied: —I'm going to train outside the city for a while. I'll be back after.
The burly one looked up, with a mix of curiosity and mockery. —Are you getting ambitious, huh? Well, just make sure you have more money.
Jeok nodded and closed the door after the men left. He sat again in front of his notebook, with a renewed sense of determination. He knew the next step in his training would be crucial, not only to strengthen his style but also to face future challenges with confidence.
"The next move will be even bigger than the Filo Spear," he thought as he drew lines and diagrams in the pages.
With his backpack on his shoulders and a serious expression on his face, Jeok Ryeong left his apartment behind. He walked with determined steps toward the forest, his training refuge where he could fully concentrate on developing his martial art. Every time he crossed the boundary between the streets and the trees, he felt a powerful calm that allowed him to forget the noise of the world and focus on his purpose.
Upon reaching his usual training spot, Jeok stopped in front of a sturdy, old tree, one he had marked as his target. He positioned himself with his legs slightly bent, forming a solid base that allowed him to maintain absolute control of his body. His red eyes fixed on the tree, full of determination as he imagined the impact he was about to attempt.
His body leaned forward, adopting a low and stable stance, like a predator stalking its prey. With a deep breath, he began to charge all his explosive energy. His legs, tense like springs, released a powerful push, propelling him forward with speed and strength.
His arms were extended forward, but not rigid. His semi-flexed hands accompanied the movement, prepared to concentrate all his force at the exact moment of impact. However, when his palms hit the trunk of the tree, the impact didn't have the desired effect. The tree remained unmoving, unyielding against his effort.
Jeok exhaled deeply, lowering his arms while looking at the intact trunk. —I need more strength in my entire body for this move —he murmured, evaluating his limits.
With that conclusion, Jeok dedicated himself to intense training. He added weight to his back while doing squats, strengthening his legs to generate a more explosive push. He ran long distances through the forest, increasing his endurance. He pushed against trees as if they were opponents, refining each impulse and increasing his accuracy. He struck the trunks with his palms, training until pain and exhaustion forced him to stop. Every day, he pushed his body and mind to the limit, seeking perfection in his technique.
The changes were evident. The trees that once endured his hits now showed the results of his training; some trunks had deep holes, marks of the devastating impact of his palms. Jeok was standing in front of a new, bigger, and stronger tree than the previous ones. He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering every hour of hard work, every pain, and every fall before positioning himself to try the move once more.
With his legs slightly bent, he formed a solid base that provided stability. His body leaned forward in a low stance, like a predator ready to attack. The forest leaves moved gently with the wind, creating a calm yet expectant atmosphere.
Jeok inhaled deeply, charging all his energy. His legs released an explosive push, propelling him forward with impressive speed. His arms extended forward, semi-flexed and prepared to concentrate all his strength on impact.
Upon reaching the trunk of the tree, Jeok launched the strike with both open palms. The impact was devastating; the sound resonated through the forest as the tree's trunk gave way, forming a deep hole in its wood. Jeok stepped back slightly, observing the result as a faint smile appeared on his face.
—It's ready —he said firmly—. Style Ryeong: The Caesar's Load.
The name represented the explosive charge and unstoppable force of the move, something Jeok knew would mark a turning point in his style. With this new attack, he felt his martial art was growing even more, adapting to every challenge he encountered on his path.