Jenne's change

Jenne slammed his fist into the training pillar. 

His body was covered in sweat. Some of it already managed to dry up, forming a filthy layer. Yet, the only reason why he didn't stink was that his fresh sweat would wash the old one away. 

"Fix the position of your left leg," an elder in modest robes gave a pointer. He stood behind Jenne, watching closely over every move of the young man. "Right now, you are losing quite a lot of momentum just to swing it," he elaborated before turning silent once again. 

"Yes, teacher!" Jenne shouted his reply, pulling his left leg back. 

'Even after all this training, I still have lots of things to improve on,' he thought, executing his routine punching technique. 

It was an elaborate art that only the core disciples of his sect could learn. And despite all his misdeeds of the past, he was lucky enough to fall under the patronage of a man who knew it.