Chapter Six: Another Supernatural Power

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Actually, when the police appeared in front of Zhuo Nan, he wasn’t surprised at all. He had the body of a teenager, but the mind of an adult. After beating Wang Yu, he’d carefully considered the consequences. If he were Wang Zhenguo, he’d also call the police and then use his connections to make things difficult for Zhuo Nan inside. The reason was simple: Zhuo Nan’s parents were gone, and the factory had promised to cover all of Zhuo Nan’s expenses at the school for employees’ children. It would be unreasonable for the factory to pressure the school to expel Zhuo Nan just because he beat up the deputy director’s son; that wouldn’t make sense, nor would it be fair. It would simply make it look like Wang Zhenguo was using public power for personal revenge, especially since both Zhuo Nan and Wang Yu were still minors—just two kids fighting, nothing more.

After Zhuo Nan was brought back to the police station, the two officers escorted him to the holding cell and said to the guard, “Look after this kid.” The meaning was clear—they’d taken a bribe from Wang Liru and were just passing along the message. But the guard misunderstood “look after” and thought there was a deeper implication, so when he put Zhuo Nan in the cell, he called out to the others inside, “Take care of him!”

Hearing this, Zhuo Nan immediately understood—the guard had gotten the wrong idea. He also knew what kind of people occupied these cells: thugs and gangsters, people more familiar with the detention center than their own homes.

Once inside, trouble was inevitable. But there was nothing Zhuo Nan could do—he couldn’t refuse to enter, or he’d risk a beating from the police themselves. He took a careful look around. On the left side of the cell was a large communal bunk, with several men slouching on it, eyeing Zhuo Nan with predatory anticipation. In the farthest corner was a sink, and beside it a squat toilet—conditions were, to say the least, grim.

“Don’t worry, Old Wu,” said a muscular man over six feet tall, addressing the guard. “We’ll definitely ‘look after’ him.” From his tone and familiarity, it was clear he knew the guard well.

Old Wu, the guard, sneered and said, “I’m off to eat—keep the noise down.” With that, he shoved Zhuo Nan inside, locked the door, and left.

As soon as Old Wu was gone, everyone on the bunk got up and closed in on Zhuo Nan. Seeing their intent, Zhuo Nan thought, Well, there’s no avoiding this. I’ve always heard that new arrivals get a beating—seems it’s true.

He quickly counted seven men. Judging by their rough appearances—some with brutish faces, others with shaved heads—it was obvious they weren’t to be trifled with. The man who’d spoken with Old Wu was their leader; if a fight broke out, Zhuo Nan would have to take him down first. But with that height and build, Zhuo Nan felt a little nervous—this guy was no sickly Wang Yu, but a real street fighter.

One of them, shorter than Zhuo Nan but clearly strong, swaggered up and snarled, “Get down and put your hands behind your head, bastard. Time for you to learn the rules here.”

Normally, if Zhuo Nan obeyed, he’d just get beaten and that would be the end of it. In the holding cell, they wouldn’t go so far as to kill anyone. But Zhuo Nan’s pride wouldn’t let him submit and take a beating.

His philosophy on fighting was simple: be fast, precise, and ruthless. If you’re going to fight, waste no time with words. Before the thug’s words had barely faded, Zhuo Nan drew on all his strength and landed a heavy punch squarely on the man’s nose. Blood spurted out instantly, and just like that, the guy was out of commission.

The others were clearly unprepared for this. What the hell—usually they were the ones dishing out the beatings. They’d never seen a newcomer fight back, let alone take one of their own out in a single blow.

The muscular leader was stunned for two seconds, then roared, “Get him! Break him!”

Six men rushed Zhuo Nan at once, but at that critical moment, Zhuo Nan shouted, “Wait! If you’ve got guts, face me one-on-one!”

They paused, laughing as if they’d heard a joke. The leader sneered, “Kid, there’s no such rule here. You come in, you get a beating, and you dare fight back?”

Zhuo Nan met his gaze, unafraid. “What, you scared to take me on alone?”

The leader burst out laughing, “Kid, let me tell you, there aren’t many in Deqing City who dare challenge me, Long Kun, to a fight. You must have a death wish.”

“Long Kun? Never heard of you. Stop bluffing. If you’ve got what it takes, let’s settle this with our fists.” Of course Zhuo Nan knew who Long Kun was—even if Long Kun wasn’t famous now, Zhuo Nan knew that in a few years, he’d make a name for himself in Deqing’s underworld. But he said this to psych himself up.

The scar on Long Kun’s face twitched—a souvenir from his early days, when he’d been slashed but still managed to take down four opponents by himself. “Since you want to die, I’ll oblige you,” he growled, turning to his men. “All of you, back off.”

The others immediately stepped aside, dragging their wounded comrade with them.

The two squared off. Long Kun roared and lunged at Zhuo Nan with his right fist aimed at Zhuo Nan’s face. “Wait!” Zhuo Nan called out at the crucial moment.

Long Kun stopped mid-punch, annoyed. “What now?”

Zhuo Nan thought for a moment. “If I win, then what?”

Long Kun was momentarily stunned, then laughed uproariously along with his men. This kid looked like a middle schooler—beating Long Kun? Only if the sun rose in the west.

After a few mocking laughs, Long Kun cleared his throat. His men fell silent as Zhuo Nan smiled, waiting for a reply. “Kid, if you beat me, I’ll follow you from now on and call you boss.”

Zhuo Nan chuckled, “All right, looks like I’ve gained a new follower.” Long Kun grunted, “But if you lose?”

Zhuo Nan expected this, and replied, “Whatever you say, I’ll do.”

Long Kun, sensing Zhuo Nan’s confidence, realized he couldn’t underestimate him. “You injured my brother’s right hand. If you lose, I’ll cripple your right hand.” The threat was so severe it chilled those watching.

“Fine. A gentleman’s word is his bond. It’s settled.” Zhuo Nan wasn’t certain of victory, but he knew that to survive here, this fight was inevitable.

“Good. Here I come!” Long Kun clenched his fists and charged at Zhuo Nan.

The punch came fast and powerful—Zhuo Nan doubted he could withstand it. But then, something unexpected happened: Long Kun’s heavy blow missed, grazing Zhuo Nan’s cheek. Zhuo Nan wasn’t even sure how he dodged—it felt as if his body moved on its own. Suddenly, a phantom image flashed before his eyes: Long Kun’s leg sweeping toward him. In reality, Long Kun was still marveling at how Zhuo Nan had dodged his punch. Zhuo Nan realized something strange was happening again—another supernatural ability, letting him foresee his opponent’s next move. Even though it only showed one move ahead, it was enough.

He dodged Long Kun’s kick, and another image appeared—Long Kun’s next move: a left hook. When you can see through your opponent’s attacks, the outcome is inevitable, and Zhuo Nan was about to prove it.

After two attacks missed, Long Kun grew furious and launched a left hook at Zhuo Nan’s abdomen. Zhuo Nan sidestepped right and countered with a right hook—smack—landing solidly on Long Kun’s left jaw.

Long Kun had put all his strength into the left hook, confident it would land. Few could take such a punch, so his guard dropped. But against someone who saw through his moves, he was left exposed.

Staggering to the right, Long Kun barely regained his footing. His men rushed to help, but he barked, “Back off!” They obediently retreated.

“Kid, I underestimated you. Now you’d better watch out,” he snarled, charging again.

Smack… smack… smack…

By the end, Long Kun’s men couldn’t bear to watch. Dozens of moves later, Long Kun hadn’t even touched Zhuo Nan, while Zhuo Nan dodged and countered every time, each strike landing cleanly.

Long Kun, gasping, leaned against the wall, his left cheek swollen like a bun and his left eye a proper black eye.

“All right, enough. I can see you’re good,” he panted.

Zhuo Nan was exhausted too—Long Kun’s physical toughness was impressive. Even though every blow landed, his muscles absorbed the impact.

“So you admit defeat?” Zhuo Nan asked with a smile.

Long Kun was frustrated. He’d been in this life since he was thirteen, over a decade now, earning respect through his fists and ruthless strikes. Losing to a seemingly frail youth was humiliating. But a promise was a promise—on the street, your word is your bond. Gritting his teeth, he said, “I lost. From now on, you’re my boss.” He turned to his men. “Call him boss.” They hesitated, unsure whether to obey.

Zhuo Nan had only wanted to protect himself—he hadn’t expected to win so easily, or to become “boss.” He quickly said, “Kun, you must be joking. Once we’re out of here, today never happened.” He turned to the others, “Isn’t that right? Kun and I never fought.”

Long Kun was a man of honor; he’d shown that by admitting defeat. He was pleased Zhuo Nan had spared his pride, but after a moment’s thought, insisted, “Boss, I, Long Kun, stand by my word. If I said I’d follow you, I will. In our world, loyalty comes first.”

Zhuo Nan hadn’t expected such integrity and regarded Long Kun with new respect, though he protested, “Kun, I appreciate it, but I really can’t be your boss.”

But Long Kun was stubborn. “Boss, if you refuse, you’re looking down on me. How can I hold my head up?”

Seeing no way out, Zhuo Nan relented. “All right, Kun, but remember—what happened today stays in here. No one speaks a word outside.”

Long Kun’s face lit up. He turned to his men, “Greet the boss!”

“Boss…” they chorused reluctantly.

“Good, good!” Zhuo Nan grinned. Being boss felt pretty good, actually.

“Boss, what’s your name?” For Long Kun to speak so formally took Zhuo Nan aback.

“My name is Zhuo Nan. Just call me Zhuo Nan,” he replied with a smile.

“No way. From now on, you’re Brother Nan. Got it?” Long Kun told his men.

“Hello, Brother Nan…” they called out in unison.

For a moment, Zhuo Nan really felt like the legendary Brother Hao Nan himself.

“Brother Nan, come rest over here,” Long Kun offered. After such a tough fight, even he was tired.

Zhuo Nan nodded, and the others made way for Brother Nan and Brother Kun to rest on the bunk.

Once seated, Long Kun asked curiously, “Brother Nan, with skills like yours, how’d you end up here? And why did they specifically tell us to ‘look after’ you?”

Zhuo Nan sighed. “Here’s what happened…”

[Promotional note about a new novel omitted.]