What A day

After a restless sleep filled with fever dreams of being pummeled and pounded into the dirt, Leo's eyes fluttered open in a confused daze. "Where am I?" he asked in a groggy, disoriented voice.

His butler Jared was seated beside the couch where Leo lay, keeping a watchful vigil over him. "You're safe at home, boy Don't you remember what happened?" Jared asked with a furrowed brow.

The memories came flooding back in a harsh rush. Leo recalled the vicious beatdown dealt by the school bullies Jack, Dale, and their gang of meathead goons. They had caught Leo out behind the athletic fields after classes, zeroing in on him like sharks scenting chum in the water.

As the flurry of cruel fists and boots rained down on him and Sophia, Leo had curled up on the ground, trying in vain to protect his head and vital organs from the relentless assault. He was sure he was going to die absorbing that ruthless onslaught until a mysterious stranger - a man with tai chi moves - suddenly intervened and intercepted the jack and gangs with remarkable power and precision.

"That's right, someone jumped in to save me from them," Leo said slowly as the recollection took shape. "His name was...Bruce, I think they called him."

Jared nodded solemnly. "Yeah, Leo said Bruce took them all on with these crazy martial arts moves I've never seen before. He moved like a striking cobra, all power and lightning speed." Jared's eyes danced with an admiring tone as he recounted Bruce's bravery.

Leo murmured, feeling a wave of disappointment and shame wash over him that he had gotten so thoroughly trounced yet again by the school's bullying punks.

Jared squeezed leo shoulder in a reassuring grip. "Hey, don't get down on yourself, boy. The important thing is you're alive and healing up. You took quite a beating."

Leo slowly sat up from the couch, grimacing at the screaming aches from his battered body as his eyes took in the purplish-blue splotches of deep bruising mottling his skin. He glanced at the calendar on the wall, shocked by just how much time had passed since the vicious attack.

"Jared...how long was I out for after Bruce got me out of there?" Leo asked hesitantly, almost afraid of the answer.

His butler looked him squarely in the eye. "Nearly two full days. You were unconscious for about 36 hours."

"36 hours?!" Leo cried out, his voice cracking with dismay as the time frame sank in. "Oh my God..." He trailed off as hot tears of frustration rolled down his cheeks, overwhelmed by his body's failure and weakness at the moment.

Jared patted his back, letting the emotion spend itself before speaking his own wise words of encouragement. "Look boy, you'll face many defeats and setbacks in this life. But a real man doesn't let himself stay down and beaten forever. You gotta get back up, learn from it, and keep pushing forward."

Leo managed a sad smile at his butler's supportive words, drawing some solace from Jared's steady presence at his side. As soon as he had regained enough strength to feel steady on his feet again, Leo resolutely made his way over to the computer desk in the living room. He was determined to find a way to shore up his ability to defend himself so he would never be so defenseless and victimized again.

Punching keywords into the search engine, Leo frantically hunted for articles on self-defense tips, martial arts training for bullying prevention, street fighting techniques - anything that could empower him against vicious attacks. But he couldn't find any satisfactory or truly instructive guidance.

Frustration burning through him now like a hot furnace blast, Leo clenched his fist and smashed it down upon the keyboard, shattering the components into an explosion of plastic shrapnel that went spraying across the desk and floor.

As he reached to grab a jagged piece with the intent of hurling it in a blind rage, an old, tattered comic book caught Leo's eye from the bookshelf.

The Legend of the Fist. He gingerly picked up the age-softened tome, running his fingers over the embossed title. Leo vividly recalled many an afternoon in his childhood spent holed up in the tiny apartment, poring over the tales of mystical kung fu warriors and marveling at the illustrated combat katas of the ancient martial arts.

Heart pounding now, Leo excitedly flipped through the yellowed pages, his eyes growing wider by the second as he studied the diagrams and descriptions of secret fighting styles and devastating strikes. There, on the back cover, were detailed instructions for one particular offensive attack called the "hammer fist":

"Position your body in a low, balanced stance, raising both clenched fists high above your head.

Then drive them down in a successive double piston motion, aiming the fleshy part of your hand just below the pinky fingers towards your opponent's collarbone, temples, or nasal area.

When executed properly with the full weight and torque from your core muscles, the hammer fist can crumple and incapacitate even the largest attackers."

A fierce smile played across Leo's bruised face as he absorbed those empowering words. He would not be helpless any longer.

Over the next hour, Leo drilled the hammer fist strike again and again, his fists slicing through the air as he rehearsed the proper torquing motion and breathing technique described in the comics. Sweat soon soaked through his t-shirt, trickling down his back and sides as he pushed his body through the repetitions. But it wasn't enough - he needed to take his training commitment to the next level.

Calling up his phone, Leo searched for any training equipment he could order and have shipped to further advance his burgeoning martial arts skills.

After some research, he settled on a traditional wooden "Wing Chun" dummy used for practicing strikes and combat combinations in the kung fu discipline. He rushed through the online purchase with a few clicks.

That evening, there was a firm knocking at the front door. The delivery man introduced himself as Clayton and hauled a bulky, heavy crate inside at Jared's beckoning. "Delivery for Leo Balsey? This thing weighs a damn ton!"

"That's for me," Leo called out, excited anticipation coursing through his veins like an electric current as Jared helped him unwrap the wooden dummy from its packaging.

"What is all this crazy stuff, boy?" Jared asked with raised eyebrows as the full figure of the Wing Chun dummy - a thick, cylindrical slab atop a small tree trunk base - was finally revealed.

"It's for martial arts practice so I can learn proper strikes and combat skills," Leo explained, eyes shining with determination. "After what those punks did to me, I can't ever be defenseless like that again.

I have to be able to protect myself and fight back hard if needed."

Jared studied Leo's expression, trying to discern his true motivations behind the intense resolution flickering across Leo's features. "I get wanting to defend yourself and all, man," he said carefully. "But just be real with me - is this about more than just self-defense? Because going down a path of anger and revenge isn't going to help anyone in the end."

The two argued heatedly, with Leo insisting his intentions were solely about empowerment and never being a victim again. "You're the one who told me never to let myself be defeated!" he finally shouted, tears stinging his eyes as the words rang out. "Well, that's exactly what I'm trying to do here by learning real fighting skills to stand up for myself!"

Chastised by his advice being thrown back at him, Jared fell into a sheepish silence. Instead of further lecturing, he simply helped Leo follow the written instructions to properly install and assemble the sturdy wooden dummy in the open living room space.

Over the next few hours, Leo threw himself into an intensive self-training regime unlike anything he'd ever attempted before. Punch combinations, defensive stances, intricate footwork patterns - he drilled it all relentlessly, striking at the impassive wooden opponent again and again until his hands stung and he was drenched in a sheen of sweat.

"That's enough man, you need to rest up and let your body recover," Jared finally intervened, worried that Leo was overdoing it with his lingering injuries. He refused to take no for an answer, instead drawing a steaming hot bath, adding a fragrant brew of herbs and salts to help soothe Leo's aching muscles