The Neutral Ground
The old docks were shrouded in a thick, cold fog, the perfect arena for a duel where the slightest mistake meant paralysis. The West Crew, sleek and intimidating in matching black jackets, stood opposite the scattered remnants of the North Crew, now led by Jinwoo and advised by Jae-wook.
The West King, Go Seungho, stepped forward. He was deceptively small, with hands that moved with the unnerving stillness of a surgeon's.
"I hear the North King is a child," Seungho's voice was soft, carrying a chilling condescension. "You beat a brute. That's fine. But force is vulgar. I fight with knowledge."
Jinwoo stepped onto the pier. He looked frail compared to Tae-seong, but his eyes were sharp. He fights with knowledge, and I have copied his foundation.
The Unseen Attack
Seungho didn't rush. He moved with a meditative calm, his fingers poised like needles. His first attack wasn't a punch, but a rapid, almost invisible flick aimed at Jinwoo's carotid artery—a quick strike designed to incapacitate instantly.
Jinwoo didn't dodge wildly. He used Master Kim's Pinpoint Precision, the Echo of anatomical knowledge screaming in his mind. He knew the exact line of the attack and moved his head a fraction of an inch to the side.
The fingertip skimmed the skin, missing the vital point by a hair.
Seungho's calm broke. He was shocked that a brute could evade a strike that relied entirely on surprise and accuracy.
Seungho increased the speed, launching a dizzying flurry of Pressure Point strikes aimed at crippling joint locks, nerve clusters, and muscle origins.
Jinwoo fought an internal battle. He was using the Echo of a healer to dodge the strikes of a killer. He felt the target points—the weakness in his own body—and moved his limbs and torso just enough to displace the targets. He was fighting with an Anatomical Map as his shield.
The Perfect Counter
Seungho, frustrated by the mimicry of defense, went for a full Chi-Na submission chain—a technique designed to lock and paralyze Jinwoo's shoulder.
As Seungho's fingers closed around Jinwoo's wrist, Jinwoo activated every single blueprint in his arsenal:
1. Pinpoint Precision located the vital nerve cluster on Seungho's own forearm.
2. Joo Hyuk's Core Stability anchored his body, preventing the submission.
3. Explosive Recruitment fired, ripping his arm free.
In the same blinding motion, Jinwoo's hand darted out. He didn't punch; he used the perfect, healer's touch to strike a point on Seungho's inner elbow designed to cause temporary muscle weakness.
Seungho gasped, his powerful forearm instantly going slack. His specialized touch—his only weapon—was temporarily neutralized.
Jinwoo didn't wait. He used Minjun's Footwork to close the distance and delivered a short, sharp, Minjun Cross punch, backed by his current max Explosive Recruitment, straight to Seungho's temple.
The West King collapsed, unconscious before he hit the dock.
Jinwoo stood over him, trembling from the combination of mental effort and physical exertion. He had won the duel of silence. The West Crew, seeing their King defeated by a technique he couldn't even register, stood down immediately.