Hank
Author: Jericho Chase
last update2025-02-11 22:54:58

Roxanne was taken aback by Barry's rejection.

She wasn't expecting this. “Why did you decline? Is this not enough money for you?”

Barry shook his head. “It's not about the money, Roxanne. Unlike your ex-boyfriend, I won't fake a relationship with you over money. Also, I'll never be your pawn to get back at your ex.”

Roxanne's face fell. “I was told you were the poorest student at Silverleaf university. They told me you'd do anything for a dollar. Yet, here you are rejecting easy money.”

Barr
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  • Master of the supreme life-force art

    Barry stood at the edge of the trench, the heat from the coals warping the air before him. He looked down at his bare feet, then at the long path of hot coals. He swallowed a lump down his throat. "I can do this," he said, steadying his breath. "I know I can do this."He lifted his right foot and placed it squarely onto the bed of embers.A searing, immediate pain exploded from his sole. It felt like molten metal eating away on his skin. He gasped and jerked his entire leg back as if pulled by a string. He stumbled backward, staring at the red blistering skin on the bottom of his foot. A cold wave of doubt flooded him. This was madness. He wasn't built for this. The fire would consume his flesh. Unfortunately for Barry, Wei offered him no sympathy.“Again,” Wei snapped.Barry's jaw clenched as he tried to push the doubt aside. He stepped forward again, this time forcing his foot down and attempting to walk on the coals.The result was worse than before. The burn was just as fi

  • The second and third training

    Barry was immediately prompted to the next stage of his training. The next day after he had struck down the tree with his fist, Wei brought Barry toward the eastern ridge of the island. There, a narrow mountain path spiraled upward like a scar carved into the stone. At its base lay stacks of thick wooden logs.Each log was cut from ironwood trees that were dense and brutally heavy.“You have passed the first training,” Wei said calmly. “Now comes your endurance training.”He gestured again. “You will carry logs from the base of the hill to the summit. One at a time. There are five hundred logs lying in wait for you. Ensure you clear them all.”Barry studied the hill closely.The slope was very steep and uneven. Even seasoned disciples struggled to carry a single log halfway up before collapsing.But he nodded all the same. “I understand. I'll do it.”That very night, Barry lifted the first log onto his shoulders.The weight slammed into him like a mountain. His knees bent instantly,

  • No one laughed

    From that day forward, Barry trained like a man possessed.Dawn no longer mattered to him. Even nightfall no longer existed. From his perspective, the world shrank until there was only him and the tree.He punched. Again. And again. And again.His fists kept slamming into the bark until his hands bled. He'd wrap his hands when the skin split open to stop the bleeding. When the cloth soaked through with blood, he tore more from his robe. When there was nothing left to tear, he used leaves and vines.But Barry never stopped.Before he knew it, he began to forget his meals. Sleep became an afterthought. His body screamed for rest, but Barry ignored it stubbornly. His mind was centered on one purpose—falling the tree with his fist. That was all that mattered to him.Meanwhile, Han and his followers never missed a chance to mock him. Every evening, as they returned from structured training, they passed by Barry’s spot simply to take shots at him. “He’s still punching that thing?”“Look

  • Han

    The sun crawled slowly across the sky as Barry stood before the next thick tree.Again. And again. And again.His fist slammed into the bark, sending a dull thud through the forest. Pain exploded up his arm, vibrating into his bones. He hissed sharply through clenched teeth but did not stop.By midmorning, his knuckles were raw. By noon, blood stained the bark where he struck it. The tree, however, stood unmoved.Barry staggered back, breathing hard, sweat soaking through his white robe. He leaned against a rock, lowering himself to the ground.So this is how they break you, he thought.He drank water, wrapped his hands in cloth torn from his sleeves, and sat quietly for a few minutes, eyes closed, regulating his breath.Then he stood up.And returned to punching.Soon, time lost meaning to Barry. The sound of fists against bark blended with the rustling wind. When his arms trembled too badly to continue, he rested. When the pain dulled into a deep, burning ache, he stood again.Th

  • limits

    The next morning, Barry was ripped out of sleep by a thunderous gong.BOOOONG—!The sound rolled across the island like a living thing, vibrating through stone, bone, and blood.Barry groaned softly and sat upright, rubbing his face with both hands.The room he had been given was barely larger than a storage cell. A low mattress lay directly on the stone floor. Beside it were three plain white robes folded neatly and a pair of worn sandals identical to those worn by the other disciples.There was no luxury nor special treatment for him. He was treated equally with the others.Barry had no problem with this. He was used to discipline and humility.Exhaled, he swung his legs off the mattress, and stood to his feet.The time was 4:00 a.m when he woke up. It was far earlier than his usual morning alarm.Without wasting time, he changed quickly, tied his robe, splashed cold water over his face, and stepped outside.The temple grounds were already alive.Rows of disciples moved in silence,

  • The clansmen

    A heavy silence followed after Wei’s proclamation. For a long, awkward moment, no one said anything. Then everyone burst into laughter, shattering the silence like glass. Some clansmen covered their mouths as they laughed openly. Others shook their heads, smirking as if they had just heard the most ridiculous joke imaginable.“Him?!” a burly man with a shaved head and crossed arms barked, his voice thick with scorn. “Grandmaster, have the years clouded your vision? He’s an outsider! A soft city-dweller!”Another, younger man with a sharp face stepped forward, his smirk cruel. “Look at his clothes! His hands! He’s never known real labor, let alone the discipline of the Supreme Life-Force!""Absolutely. This is an insult to every disciple who has bled and sweated here for decades!"The laughter grew, mingled with angry muttering. "Grandmaster," an elder with a long scar across his cheek said gravely, "you trained us from childhood. We have shed blood and bone for this art. And yet yo

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