The clash between Sol Mirek and Bang grew fiercer with each passing second. Their figures blurred across the dojo, fists and feet colliding in rapid succession, the sharp impacts echoing like distant thunder.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
After another direct exchange, Sol slid back several steps, his shoes scraping against the wooden floor. Bang shifted half a step, steady as ever.
"Sol, your rate of improvement is astonishing," Bang said, stroking his beard, his eyes gleaming with approval. Ever since his former disciple Garou had abandoned the dojo, he had not seen talent like this.
Bang was not using his full strength. He intentionally left openings, allowing Sol room to observe. Yet within minutes and only a handful of exchanges, Sol had already grasped nearly seventy to eighty percent of the movements.
Such talent was rare. At his age, Sol had already begun to understand the essence behind technique itself. His growth rate surpassed even Garou's.
This time, Bang resolved to teach with everything he had. He would not raise another student who strayed toward becoming a monster. Sol had already proven his character by risking his life to stop the falling meteor fragments. In time, he would become a hero Bang could take pride in, one humanity could depend on.
Bang's attacks sharpened. The full essence of Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist unfolded in his movements.
Sol relied on Combat Intuition to endure the pressure, but bruises formed along his arms and torso. Without activating Energy Dissipation, the gap in their raw physical attributes was undeniable.
He could read the trajectories. He could predict the angles. But Bang was simply too fast.
For the first time in battle, Sol felt completely overpowered in physical strength. His expression shifted, playful calm fading.
"Teacher Bang, I'm getting serious now."
He inhaled deeply. His muscles expanded, veins tightening beneath his skin. Black hair whipped around his face as the Demon Back pattern surfaced across his back like a living mark. Heat shimmered around him, white vapor rolling from his body as if an ancient beast had awakened.
Bang's eyes flickered with interest. "Oh? So you were holding back."
The wooden floor cracked beneath Sol's feet as he launched forward like a cannonball.
His speed had more than doubled.
Bang responded instantly. Water Smashing Fist flowed into motion. Their limbs collided midair, producing explosive shockwaves.
Boom.
The dojo walls trembled. Dust fell from the rafters.
Inside, Charanko froze mid-training. He stared toward the courtyard.
Is Master fighting someone?
He crept closer, peering from the entrance. His jaw nearly dropped. The young man, no older than twenty, was exchanging blows evenly with his master.
Bang's astonishment grew. Sol was not merely enduring the counters of Water Smashing Fist. He was dissolving them. Each strike's force was redirected with precision.
Only someone who could perceive the flow of power at its core could dissipate it so cleanly. At Sol's age, that level of perception was extraordinary.
Even more intriguing, Sol's own movements carried a philosophy similar to Water Smashing Fist. Adaptable. Fluid. Controlled.
Bang felt genuine excitement. This boy was born for this art.
The exchange intensified. Their movements accelerated, footwork carving arcs across the courtyard. Each impact sent gusts of wind across the training grounds.
Bang.
Another direct collision. Sol dispersed the incoming force again.
"Good. Again," Bang said, unable to hide his satisfaction.
Sol regulated his breathing. The Demon Back markings stood stark beneath the fading sunlight.
He could feel it. With each clash, his understanding deepened. The principles behind Water Smashing Fist were becoming clearer.
Suddenly, Sol altered his rhythm. His right fist traced a smooth arc, like flowing water, aiming for Bang's chest.
The motion appeared gentle, but explosive force coiled beneath it.
Bang's eyes brightened. "Excellent."
He countered with the same technique. Their fists met with a crisp crack.
"Breathe. Control it," Bang instructed mid-fight. "This style demands unity between breath and movement."
He deliberately slowed, demonstrating a sequence.
Sol mirrored the rhythm. As he adjusted his breathing, something clicked. His motions became smoother. Power traveled more efficiently through his frame.
From the sidelines, Charanko swallowed. "The new disciple… he's unbelievable."
Bang suddenly shifted patterns. His hands flowed like darting fish, weaving complex paths.
Sol's Combat Intuition flared violently. He stepped back just in time, narrowly evading a lethal strike.
"Excellent reflexes," Bang said with a nod.
Sol said nothing. His focus was absolute, analyzing every twitch of muscle, every shift in weight.
His innate talent allowed him to absorb techniques at a frightening pace.
The tempo escalated again. Bang's style flowed like true water, penetrating from every angle. Sol countered with intuition and refined boxing principles, barely holding ground.
Bang.
With a final heavy clash, both slid backward.
Bang's breathing remained steady. Sol was drenched in sweat.
"We will stop here for today," Bang said, satisfaction evident in his tone. "In a single session, you have grasped the fundamentals."
Sol wiped his forehead and bowed respectfully. "Thank you for the guidance."
"Starting tomorrow, you will train here daily. I will personally teach you the core of Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist."
Sol smiled lightly. "I'll be here on time."
By the time he left the dojo, dusk painted long shadows across the street. He walked calmly, replaying the exchange in his mind.
"Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist… subtle and precise," he murmured, clenching his fist as the techniques settled into muscle memory.
Though only the foundation, it had already reshaped his understanding of martial arts.
When Sol returned to his rented apartment, he found Saitama sitting in front of the television, watching the news.
That was unusual. At this hour, Saitama was normally at his own place.
Saitama stood up and held out a pink envelope.
"Sol, look at this. I've got fans now. Thank-you letters."
He waved it casually, though faint pride lingered in his expression.
Sol blinked, then smirked. "Didn't think you cared about popularity."
"Hey, appreciation is appreciation."
Sol chuckled. It was good. Ever since Genos started staying around and he spent more time with Saitama, the caped hero seemed more human somehow.
An advertisement suddenly flashed across the screen.
A Martial Arts Tournament.
Sol raised an eyebrow, a faint grin forming.
"Well… that looks interesting."
===
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