He had been taken down in mere seconds by a ragged, barefoot maintenance worker who hadn't even bothered to throw a single punch. Around him, relentless whispers and gossip began to echo.

The students who once worshipped him now looked at him with apprehension and disappointment. Blake clenched his teeth, a seething aura of anger boiling in his chest, making him feel incredibly suffocated and breathless.

He could not accept that a lowly man dared to humiliate him right in his own sanctuary. He dragged his feet into the locker room, swinging a fierce punch into the steel locker, leaving it heavily dented.

"I will kill you, you bastard," Blake hissed through his teeth, his eyes flashing with terrifying red streaks. He pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number. On the other end were hardened underworld thugs.

Chapter 12 - the unexpected encounter

The sixty-five-year-old Marine Corps veteran, Sergeant Miller, did not leave the gym immediately. His old yet sharp eyes remained glued to the fading back of the maintenance worker.

Miller knew exactly the kind of power Damon had just utilized. It wasn't performative martial arts, but a lethal survival skill passed down only to the ghosts of top-secret special forces.

After ensuring the surrounding area was safe, Miller decided to quietly follow Damon. He found the father and son waiting at a bus stop a few streets away from the gym, under the evening's light drizzle.

Damon immediately realized someone was tailing them. He gently pushed Evan behind his back, his body instantly shifting into a state of high alert. However, upon seeing the Marine Corps cap, he relaxed slightly.

"You have the skills of an invisible ghost," Miller spoke, his voice warm yet carrying absolute, profound respect. "I never thought I'd see someone like you again in a private martial arts gym."

Damon didn't reply immediately. He only looked at him with a cold, flat gaze. "I am currently just a maintenance worker. Those days submerged in deadly darkness ended forever a long time ago."

Chapter 13 - the lesson on power

The night rain fell lightly outside the window of the tiny, dilapidated apartment where Damon and his son lived. Evan sat quietly on the single bed, his eyes still shining with absolute admiration and awe.

The thirteen-year-old boy always thought his father was just a poor, enduring laborer who was constantly pushed around. He never imagined that his exhausted father could defeat a champion.

"Dad," Evan hesitantly spoke, breaking the silent atmosphere. "The scars on your body... You used to be a real warrior, right? Why did you hide it from me all this time?"

Damon paused from wiping the kitchen counter. He walked over, sitting next to his son with a sorrowful gaze. The painful memories of the battlefield he had tried to bury once again surfaced vividly.

"I hid it because violence is not something to be proud of, Evan," Damon said in a deep, warm voice, gently ruffling his son's hair. "Those scars are the price paid for taking the lives of others."

He looked deeply into the boy's curious eyes. "That coach has strength, but he uses it to bully the weak. That is cowardice. True power lies in knowing how to control your own ego."

Chapter 14 - darkness in the deserted alley

Three days after the terrifying event at the gym, life seemed to have returned to its normal rhythm. Damon continued his exhausting maintenance work at an old apartment complex in the city's suburbs.

When the twelve-hour shift ended, darkness had completely enveloped the area. Damon carried his heavy tool bag, striding through a deserted, damp alley heading toward the last bus stop of the day.

Suddenly, the crunch of footsteps echoed from both ends of the alley. Four massive, heavily tattooed men, gripping iron pipes and baseball bats, slowly stepped out from the darkest corners.

From behind the group of thugs, Blake emerged with a sinister and vicious smile. He was no longer wearing his white martial arts uniform, but a black leather jacket, his eyes burning with a maniacal flame of vengeance, wanting to crush his opponent.

"You thought you could humiliate me and just walk away, old man?" Blake hissed, slamming the iron pipe in his hand against the brick wall, sending sparks flying. "Tonight, I'm going to break every bone in your body."

Damon stopped. He showed no signs of panic or retreat. He slowly set his heavy tool bag down on the damp ground. The deep black eyes of the former special operative began to scan every position, assessing distances and weapons.

A deadly silence once again engulfed Damon. He was no longer a tired maintenance worker. The sleeping monster inside him had officially been unwittingly awakened by the thugs.

👉 read part 15 to see the survival instinct rise powerfully.

Chapter 15 - the instinct awakens

The two biggest thugs roared, charging straight at Damon in unison, swinging their iron pipes aiming directly at his head. Their speed might threaten an ordinary person, but for Damon, everything seemed to slow down.

With no wasted movements, Damon slipped through the gap between the two descending iron pipes. With the precision of a machine, he used the edge of his hand to deliver a fatal chop to the throat of the first thug.

The giant immediately collapsed to the ground, clutching his throat and gasping for air in extreme agony. At the same time, Damon pivoted, delivering a sweeping roundhouse kick with his heavy work boot, completely shattering the knee joint of the second man.

The sharp crack of breaking bones echoed through the deserted alley. The remaining two men froze, their eyes widening in sheer terror. They had never witnessed a combat skill so ruthless and brutally effective.