At the corners of Red Phoenix Street and Blue Dragon Road in Koreatown was a small taekwondo dojang and a gym where fighters from all over the Five Kingdoms would go to work out. That it was frequented by members of the Kakure-Kai and their allies in the 7 Star Mob was not lost on Chien. But it was the only place that was available while the Black Cat Studios' spaces were in use. So that was where he spent most of his time, when he was not working at the Double Happiness Chinese Restaurant or helping Sifu David with his baguazhan classes.
That afternoon, Chien was on the floor mats in the back, working on his Long Fist guan tao--tornado kicks, flying jump kicks, Meteor Fist punches. He was oblivious to the others in the room with him and the sounds of the gym around him. His focus was so intent on his forms.
On occasion Hayato would visit the various gyms throughout the Five Kingdoms to get a look at the fighters the world had to offer. More often than not he'd leave empty handed, but every once in a while he'd stumble upon some new fighter who showed the kind of promise needed to appease the crowds at the Social Club. Word had gotten around and back to him about this man named Chien who might show the kind of potential he was looking for. Today, he visited the gym under the pretense of getting a little practice and exercise in the back, if only so he could keep an eye on this potential new bit of talent.
Sometimes Chien drew an audience of the younger fighters and always took a moment to instruct them, figuring that he was somehow paying Sifu David back by doing so. When Hayato appeared, he was showing a group of three boys who were about 12 or 13 how to block effectively. Chien proved himself a good teacher; the boys were not only learning the moves but were obviously having fun, too, judging by their smiles and joking laughter.
Hayato let Chien teach the younger boys in peace for a time. After his patience drew thin he turned to find a man who looked too large and too angry to be truly skilled at any particular form of martial arts, too undisciplined. He paid the man a large sum of cash money to go and start a bit of trouble. Just a few moments later, the large, heavily muscled man sporting a shining, bald scalp came stalking over toward Chien and was looking at him like he owed the man money. The boys sensed trouble and made themselves scarce almost immediately, slipping away into the gym to find Sa-beom-nim Pak, the master of the dojang next door. Chien stood up straighter, his weight on the balls of his feet, which were spread at shoulder width.
"Help you?" the young man asked politely enough.
The man sized him up with a leer before lifting a large hand, balled into a fist, and swung at the young man's face with all of his not inconsiderable might. To the side, Hayato had slid into a lean against the wall to watch from a distance. The first attack was slow and sluggish as expected; he just wanted to see if Chien was actually capable of putting his techniques to a more practical use.
Chien, seeing the man telescope his punch before he even threw it, merely ducked underneath it, stepping to the side as the large man went sailing past. One corner of an expressive mouth lifted in a wry grin and he said, "Now, now. I don't know you, friend, and I haven't any trouble with you. But if you continue down this path, we will have trouble."
With a growl the large man whirled around to try and swing a backfist at Chien. "We got trouble already," he assured him as he stomped forward with a heavy foot. He was all brawn and strength, very little speed and even less skill. Regardless, getting hit by one of those punches would be more than enough to knock most men out cold. Chien would just have to endeavor not to get hit, then, wouldn't he? He ducked the next volley, and aim a couple meteor punches of his own to the big dude's undefended ribs before dancing out of the way once more. "I don't know you," he said again. "What trouble could we possibly have with each other?"
"All kinds," the man grunted after the volley of blows to his ribs and stomped forward again, swinging and flailing wildly with thick arms and massive hands. There was little rhythm or precision to the man's fighting style, no thought at all behind each swing. It was more akin to a rhino on a rampage than anything else.
Chien kept moving backwards, ducking blows and making purely defensive moves of his own, until it became obvious that the large idiot couldn't be dissuaded, so the young man went on the offensive now, aiming stronger punches and kicks to the other's more vulnerable places--his face and head, stomach, and knees, looking to disable him as quickly and humanely as possible. He was big and tough and able to take more of a beating than most, but he was slow and that made him ultimately an easy target. The big man withstood the offense from Chien for several minutes, only grunting or wincing slightly here and there until his swings started to come even slower, with considerably less force behind them. Before too long he was stumbling after the smaller, faster fighter and fighting to keep control of his breathing. It had become a chore to stand and he fell to his hands and knees.
From where he leaned against the wall Hayato fished a business card from his pocket and flicked it between his fingers.
Chien put the large man out of his misery with a fist to the temple, sending him off into dreamland. He was barely sweating and his breathing wasn't even elevated. Sudden movement from the wall had him whipping around to face the man who was holding out a business card to him. He looked at the card then at the man's face. "What's that?" he asked, making no move to take the card.
Hayato held the card out to him; it had the Social Club's address and the number to reach him by. "An offer," he replied, pushing from his lean against the wall. "Get your name out there and line your pockets with some money while you're at it."
He took the card and glanced at it. Kotetsu Social Club. Yakuza. He gave the man a startled look. "You want me to fight for the yakuza?" He could barely keep the surprise from his voice.
"You won't be fighting for us, but for the customers, the crowd. Come by one night and have a look at the set up if you're interested, anyone willing to throw a punch is allowed to participate, there are no obligations."
Chien was intrigued by the offer, despite Sifu David's opinions and attitudes towards the yakuza and their presence in Little Tokyo. He nodded and slipped the card into his gear bag. "Yeah, maybe I'll do that," he said casually.
"Ask for Nishimura-san," he added. "He'll tell you everything you need to know if you get the itch to test yourself against an actual opponent," he glanced at the large, unconscious man who was sprawled out on the mats underfoot.
Chien followed the man's line of sight towards the slumbering mountain and chuckled. "Nishimura-san. Yeah. Hey, thanks. What's your name? I'm Chien."
He considered Chien for a long time, unmoving. "Hayato," he held out his hand to offer it for a shake.
Chien took the other man's hand and shook it, testing the other man's strength against his own. The grip was firm as any man's shake should be, but he made no effort to squeeze or prove that he was stronger or weaker than Chien. "I hope to see you at the club soon, we're always looking for new fighters to come in and make a name for themselves. I get the idea that you'd be a real crowd pleaser."
That expressive mouth tugged up at the corner again and he laughed a little. "Get lots of girls in there, huh?"
"More than you might think but less than you hope," he countered, tossing a smirk back at him. "Come by and prove that you aren't just another wannabe and you might impress one or two."
"I will. Maybe I'll bring a date," he added with a grin. "Got one particular girl I'm looking to impress. Hopefully this'll do that."
"It just might," he stepped back. "The fights start at seven, come by an hour beforehand if you want to sign up."
"Yeah, maybe this weekend. Thanks." He gave the Japanese a little wave and bent to carry his gear bag into the locker room, carefully toeing the snoring body as he passed it. There was no response.
That afternoon, Chien was on the floor mats in the back, working on his Long Fist guan tao--tornado kicks, flying jump kicks, Meteor Fist punches. He was oblivious to the others in the room with him and the sounds of the gym around him. His focus was so intent on his forms.
On occasion Hayato would visit the various gyms throughout the Five Kingdoms to get a look at the fighters the world had to offer. More often than not he'd leave empty handed, but every once in a while he'd stumble upon some new fighter who showed the kind of promise needed to appease the crowds at the Social Club. Word had gotten around and back to him about this man named Chien who might show the kind of potential he was looking for. Today, he visited the gym under the pretense of getting a little practice and exercise in the back, if only so he could keep an eye on this potential new bit of talent.
Sometimes Chien drew an audience of the younger fighters and always took a moment to instruct them, figuring that he was somehow paying Sifu David back by doing so. When Hayato appeared, he was showing a group of three boys who were about 12 or 13 how to block effectively. Chien proved himself a good teacher; the boys were not only learning the moves but were obviously having fun, too, judging by their smiles and joking laughter.
Hayato let Chien teach the younger boys in peace for a time. After his patience drew thin he turned to find a man who looked too large and too angry to be truly skilled at any particular form of martial arts, too undisciplined. He paid the man a large sum of cash money to go and start a bit of trouble. Just a few moments later, the large, heavily muscled man sporting a shining, bald scalp came stalking over toward Chien and was looking at him like he owed the man money. The boys sensed trouble and made themselves scarce almost immediately, slipping away into the gym to find Sa-beom-nim Pak, the master of the dojang next door. Chien stood up straighter, his weight on the balls of his feet, which were spread at shoulder width.
"Help you?" the young man asked politely enough.
The man sized him up with a leer before lifting a large hand, balled into a fist, and swung at the young man's face with all of his not inconsiderable might. To the side, Hayato had slid into a lean against the wall to watch from a distance. The first attack was slow and sluggish as expected; he just wanted to see if Chien was actually capable of putting his techniques to a more practical use.
Chien, seeing the man telescope his punch before he even threw it, merely ducked underneath it, stepping to the side as the large man went sailing past. One corner of an expressive mouth lifted in a wry grin and he said, "Now, now. I don't know you, friend, and I haven't any trouble with you. But if you continue down this path, we will have trouble."
With a growl the large man whirled around to try and swing a backfist at Chien. "We got trouble already," he assured him as he stomped forward with a heavy foot. He was all brawn and strength, very little speed and even less skill. Regardless, getting hit by one of those punches would be more than enough to knock most men out cold. Chien would just have to endeavor not to get hit, then, wouldn't he? He ducked the next volley, and aim a couple meteor punches of his own to the big dude's undefended ribs before dancing out of the way once more. "I don't know you," he said again. "What trouble could we possibly have with each other?"
"All kinds," the man grunted after the volley of blows to his ribs and stomped forward again, swinging and flailing wildly with thick arms and massive hands. There was little rhythm or precision to the man's fighting style, no thought at all behind each swing. It was more akin to a rhino on a rampage than anything else.
Chien kept moving backwards, ducking blows and making purely defensive moves of his own, until it became obvious that the large idiot couldn't be dissuaded, so the young man went on the offensive now, aiming stronger punches and kicks to the other's more vulnerable places--his face and head, stomach, and knees, looking to disable him as quickly and humanely as possible. He was big and tough and able to take more of a beating than most, but he was slow and that made him ultimately an easy target. The big man withstood the offense from Chien for several minutes, only grunting or wincing slightly here and there until his swings started to come even slower, with considerably less force behind them. Before too long he was stumbling after the smaller, faster fighter and fighting to keep control of his breathing. It had become a chore to stand and he fell to his hands and knees.
From where he leaned against the wall Hayato fished a business card from his pocket and flicked it between his fingers.
Chien put the large man out of his misery with a fist to the temple, sending him off into dreamland. He was barely sweating and his breathing wasn't even elevated. Sudden movement from the wall had him whipping around to face the man who was holding out a business card to him. He looked at the card then at the man's face. "What's that?" he asked, making no move to take the card.
Hayato held the card out to him; it had the Social Club's address and the number to reach him by. "An offer," he replied, pushing from his lean against the wall. "Get your name out there and line your pockets with some money while you're at it."
He took the card and glanced at it. Kotetsu Social Club. Yakuza. He gave the man a startled look. "You want me to fight for the yakuza?" He could barely keep the surprise from his voice.
"You won't be fighting for us, but for the customers, the crowd. Come by one night and have a look at the set up if you're interested, anyone willing to throw a punch is allowed to participate, there are no obligations."
Chien was intrigued by the offer, despite Sifu David's opinions and attitudes towards the yakuza and their presence in Little Tokyo. He nodded and slipped the card into his gear bag. "Yeah, maybe I'll do that," he said casually.
"Ask for Nishimura-san," he added. "He'll tell you everything you need to know if you get the itch to test yourself against an actual opponent," he glanced at the large, unconscious man who was sprawled out on the mats underfoot.
Chien followed the man's line of sight towards the slumbering mountain and chuckled. "Nishimura-san. Yeah. Hey, thanks. What's your name? I'm Chien."
He considered Chien for a long time, unmoving. "Hayato," he held out his hand to offer it for a shake.
Chien took the other man's hand and shook it, testing the other man's strength against his own. The grip was firm as any man's shake should be, but he made no effort to squeeze or prove that he was stronger or weaker than Chien. "I hope to see you at the club soon, we're always looking for new fighters to come in and make a name for themselves. I get the idea that you'd be a real crowd pleaser."
That expressive mouth tugged up at the corner again and he laughed a little. "Get lots of girls in there, huh?"
"More than you might think but less than you hope," he countered, tossing a smirk back at him. "Come by and prove that you aren't just another wannabe and you might impress one or two."
"I will. Maybe I'll bring a date," he added with a grin. "Got one particular girl I'm looking to impress. Hopefully this'll do that."
"It just might," he stepped back. "The fights start at seven, come by an hour beforehand if you want to sign up."
"Yeah, maybe this weekend. Thanks." He gave the Japanese a little wave and bent to carry his gear bag into the locker room, carefully toeing the snoring body as he passed it. There was no response.