Street Scene

A loud crash resounded as low tables and chairs were kicked over in the street.

"Cross-eyed punk, you dare show your face here?!"

The leader of the gang, a young man with a ponytail and a gold chain around his neck, grabbed a beer bottle from a nearby table and charged aggressively towards the low table where Yang Chu and Fish Head Xu were sitting.

Fish Head Xu, who had been enjoying some drinks and boasting to Yang Chu, was startled by the sudden intrusion. His cross-eyes widened in surprise as he saw the uninvited guests closing in.

"Chu, run!"

Fish Head Xu reacted quickly, shouting to Yang Chu as he stood up, ready to flee.

But it was too late.

While the ponytailed leader ran toward Fish Head Xu, the other gang members following behind had already encircled them from all sides.

Though they weren't armed with machetes and iron rods like before, each of them grabbed beer bottles, chairs, or anything they could find.

"Hey... hey there, fellas! What a coincidence running into you here!" Fish Head Xu, seeing that their escape route was blocked, stopped in his tracks. A smile spread across his oddly comedic face as he waved and greeted the gang.

"Coincidence, my ass!"

The ponytailed thug, seeing Fish Head Xu with nowhere to hide, sneered arrogantly and pointed the beer bottle at him. "Cross-eyed fool! You made me chase you across several streets, and I got chewed out by the boss because of you. Let's see where you'll run now!"

"I'm not running, I'm not running—"

Fish Head Xu continued to grin foolishly, his demeanor somehow both absurd and pitiful.

"Look at him, pathetic as ever!"

"This damn cross-eyed guy dared to throw money around and steal the boss's girl..."

"Damn it, just looking at him makes me want to beat him up, but I don't even know how to start. He's like a fool!"

The gang members surrounding them laughed loudly at Fish Head Xu's ridiculous appearance.

"Cross-eyed fool, call me 'daddy' and I'll let you go today!" one thug jeered.

"You're stupid! If you fathered a kid like him, you'd be better off painting the wall with it!" another mocked more maliciously.

"Hey, it's you!!" The ponytailed thug suddenly noticed Yang Chu sitting opposite Fish Head Xu at the low table.

Yang Chu was fully focused on the small dishes in front of him, chewing, swallowing, and digesting in a continuous cycle. He was swiftly converting the food into energy and essential nutrients for his body. With his body's system operating at an accelerated rate, his metabolism had sped up, allowing his injuries to heal faster than normal.

While he was aware of the commotion around him, his subconscious seemed to be absent. In the face of this sudden confrontation, he showed none of the typical physiological reactions—no rapid heartbeat, no muscle tension, no adrenaline surge—remaining extraordinarily calm. It was as if he was detached from the situation entirely, as if it had nothing to do with him.

"The hell, you're still eating?!"

Upon recognizing Yang Chu, the ponytailed thug immediately realized that it was Yang Chu who had helped Fish Head Xu escape earlier. Seeing that Yang Chu was still nonchalantly eating while surrounded by their group, the thug flew into a rage. He stormed over to the low table, ready to kick it over.

But Yang Chu was faster. Just before the thug's foot could connect with the table, Yang Chu flipped it, sending all the food and drinks spilling onto the thug.

"Get him!"

Covered in various snacks and broth, the ponytailed thug was infuriated. Wiping himself down, he pointed at Yang Chu and shouted to the others, "Finish him off!"

"Oh no, it's really going down," Fish Head Xu muttered anxiously as he saw the gang gearing up for a fight.

Though not the sharpest tool in the shed, Fish Head Xu had grown up on the streets, fighting countless brawls. He knew that in situations like these, where you've offended someone and been cornered, it was best to play dumb and foolish. Most would just mock him or give him a few light punches, maybe even let their guard down, giving him a chance to escape.

But his street smarts also told him that these seventeen or eighteen-year-old thugs, in their reckless years, would have no sense of restraint when things got heated.

"Hey, you're after me, Fish Head Xu! Leave my friend out of this!" he shouted, trying to draw attention away from Yang Chu.

But none of the gang paid him any heed. The three closest thugs, following their leader's order, armed with beer bottles and pieces of furniture, charged at Yang Chu.

These were the kind of guys who wouldn't hesitate to hack someone up, so a simple outnumbered brawl was nothing to them. Their faces twisted with malice, they approached with excitement.

Yang Chu, already on his feet after flipping the table, remained eerily calm in the face of their assault. There was no sign of fear or panic in his eyes. It was as if he could see every move they made with perfect clarity.

As a beer bottle came crashing down towards his head, with a low stool following close behind, Yang Chu moved like he was playing a computer game. He sidestepped swiftly, dodging the bottle, then hooked his leg out, sending the thug crashing to the ground.

For the second thug swinging the stool at his back, Yang Chu ducked low, letting the stool swing harmlessly over his head. He stepped on the thug's foot and gave a slight shove, sending him tumbling down as well.

The last thug, empty-handed, aimed a kick at Yang Chu's head as he saw him duck. Yang Chu twisted aside, grabbed the thug's leg, and yanked it back.

A ripping sound echoed as the crotch of the thug's jeans tore open.

"Ahhh—!"

The third thug ended up doing an involuntary split, his face contorted in pain as he let out a pig-like squeal.

"What the hell are you all standing around for? Get him!" the ponytailed thug shouted, shocked at Yang Chu's prowess. Seeing his gang hesitating, he yelled again.

The remaining thugs grabbed whatever they could—bowls, chopsticks, chairs—and hurled them at Yang Chu.

Yang Chu dodged left and right in the midst of the chaos. His movements weren't graceful, but each time he managed to evade the thugs' attacks just in time, countering with simple but effective moves—tripping, knee-kicking, or using their momentum against them.

"Take that!"

Seeing the commotion erupt, Fish Head Xu, who had stayed behind, didn't flee. Instead, he charged in and landed a heavy kick to the ponytailed thug's lower back, then picked up a low stool and whacked it over two thugs who were about to join in.

After a noisy street brawl, out of the seven or eight thugs, all but one managed to escape; the rest were taken down by the duo.

"Let's go, Chu!"

Fish Head Xu glanced in the direction where the escaping thug had disappeared, then called to Yang Chu as he took off in another direction.

Yang Chu, guessing that those who fled might return with reinforcements, didn't linger. He followed Fish Head Xu and left together.

The food stall owner, standing at the entrance of the late-night snack shop, seemed unfazed by the commotion. Seeing Fish Head Xu run off, he didn't try to stop him. Instead, he made a gesture indicating the cost of tonight's meal.

"Wow, Chu… Chu, I didn't expect you to be so skinny but so good at fighting," Fish Head Xu panted after they ran for a few dozen meters and turned a few corners. His cross-eyes seemed to sparkle as he looked at Yang Chu. "Those punks may lack experience, but they're fast and hit hard; dealing with them isn't easy!"

"I took a few hits too," Yang Chu replied casually as he stood there, adjusting his heartbeat and breathing.

During the street brawl at the food stall, he could sense and dodge most of the incoming bottles, chairs, and other items.

But he wasn't completely unscathed—

Although his brain could make calculated decisions in these intense situations, his body wasn't in peak condition to keep up.

Besides, unlike after his awakening, when he had pushed his body to its limits with every counterattack, this time he hadn't used maximum force.

So, even though he seemed to be controlling his body as if playing a video game, his back, arms, shoulders, and chest took a few hits in the melee.

Still, to others, Yang Chu seemed almost unbelievably skilled.

"Is it serious?!" Fish Head Xu finally noticed the footprints and tears in Yang Chu's clothes after hearing his words. "The clinics are all closed now. Come to my place; I've got some medicinal wine."

Yang Chu turned his head and looked at Fish Head Xu for a moment, then suddenly smiled.

"Alright."

If before, he had only accepted Fish Head Xu's invitation to a midnight snack because he was wandering aimlessly and wanted a free meal, after the chaotic street fight, he began to see that Fish Head Xu wasn't such a bad guy.

Whether it was tidying up the cardboard boxes after hiding in the alley or his saying, "My boss taught me to repay kindness practically," inviting him for a meal, or not backing down in a fight, instead taking responsibility and diverting attention to himself—these little details revealed something about his character.

His body had some physical flaws, and his mind might not be the sharpest, but he wasn't self-pitying or overly sensitive. Instead, he was straightforward, enthusiastic, and had a sense of responsibility.

They hailed a taxi on Nathan Road and arrived at a residential area in about ten minutes. From the outside, it seemed quite decent.

Taking the elevator up to the 12th floor, Fish Head Xu unlocked the door, revealing a surprisingly spacious three-bedroom apartment.

The place wasn't huge, but it was around a hundred square meters—considered a "luxury apartment" by Hong Kong standards.

The interior was decently furnished; not high-end, but clean and well-kept, with some thoughtful touches. By the balcony, there was a hanging sandbag, and several dumbbells, straps, and other fitness equipment were scattered on the floor.

The walls were covered with various movie posters, and in the corner of the living room were some tangled wires and devices of unknown use.

In the middle of the living room, in front of the sofa, there was a 21-inch color TV and a VCD player, with a pile of scattered discs around them.

There was also a mahjong table in another corner, with mahjong tiles and an ashtray left in a mess on top.

"This place was bought for me by my big brother about ten years ago," Fish Head Xu explained, rummaging through a cupboard in the living room and tossing a bottle of medicinal wine to Yang Chu. "He said guys in my line of work can't save money. If you don't have a place to live when you can't work anymore, you'll end up on the streets. I spent years paying him back. Friends come over to play cards sometimes, or crash for a few nights when they have nowhere else to go."

"Your brother seems to treat you well," Yang Chu replied as he caught the medicinal wine and sat down on the living room sofa.

Although some of his pre-awakening memories had become hazy, Yang Chu vaguely recalled that the wealth gap in Hong Kong was extreme. Most people had poor living conditions, and many dreamed of owning a place of their own.

"I'm heading to bed. Got work tomorrow. Make yourself at home—sleep in the room or on the sofa, whatever you like. The bathroom's over there, and there are clothes in the closet; pick whatever fits you."

Fish Head Xu yawned and waved at Yang Chu. He didn't seem to care that this was someone he had just met tonight. Casually, he turned and went back to his room to sleep.

He showed no trace of caution toward Yang Chu.

Yang Chu didn't make a fuss either. He went to the bathroom, took a quick shower, changed into some clean clothes he found, and returned to the living room.

He sat on the sofa, opened the medicinal wine, and rubbed it on a few bruises on his body.

Then, he closed his eyes slightly, accelerating his blood circulation to better absorb the medicinal effects.

Most of his injuries, aside from the previously torn ligaments and minor bone damage from excessive force that hadn't fully healed, weren't too much of an issue, especially after digesting a good amount of food.

After applying the medicinal wine, Yang Chu glanced out of the living room window and saw that the sky was still dark.

The wall clock showed it was just past 2 a.m.

Despite only getting half an hour of sleep earlier in the pool, Yang Chu felt remarkably clear-headed now and wasn't the least bit tired. Plus, there wasn't a bathtub in Fish Head Xu's place, so he couldn't rest in water as he preferred. Instead, he decided to head to the TV cabinet in front of the sofa, turned on the TV and VCD player, and popped in a random disc.

Yang Chu settled back on the sofa, half-focused on his body's internal circulation to check for any systems he might have missed while absentmindedly watching the screen.

Paying constant attention to the operation of his body's internal systems had become the most important thing to Yang Chu.

Breathing, circulation, movement, digestion—all these systems operated without a hitch for Yang Chu. These functions were crucial for his survival and mobility, so he always kept a close eye on them.

But systems like urinary, endocrine, lymphatic, and even reproductive functions—he couldn't always monitor them constantly. He'd only occasionally focus on them, like tapping a drum once in a while.

These were also the systems in Yang Chu's body most prone to imbalances.

"Look at that punch—"

"Hah! Hah! Hah—"

Just as Yang Chu finished his internal self-examination of his body's major systems, a burst of intense fighting scenes on the TV screen caught his attention.