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墨書 Inktalez
The atmosphere in the boxing gym gradually cooled as the young man's words hung in the air, causing a few previously boisterous Fighters to fall into a brief silence. Their expressions were marked by discontent, yet they seemed somewhat oppressed by the young man's resolute tone and stern gaze. The entire venue felt tense, with other Fighters quietly observing the dispute, but no one dared to interject.
Just then, a tall man suddenly pushed through the crowd from the corner. He was imposing, with dark skin and a face full of rugged features. His muscular arms and broad shoulders exuded an innate sense of intimidation. His eyes were filled with disdain, and a smirk played at the corners of his mouth as he stepped into the center of the gathering, looking down at the young man.
"Kid, you speak so earnestly; do you think you're something special?" The tall man's voice was deep but laced with sharp mockery. "We're talking about facts here. Don't you know that? Or are you just a dog raised by the government?" His tone grew increasingly contemptuous as he spread his arms wide, as if to showcase his disdain.
The young man's brow furrowed, his lips twitching slightly as anger flickered in his eyes, yet he refrained from responding immediately.
The tall man seemed to revel in his silence and continued, "What government? What Song Huairen? Do you really think these people will help you? For heaven's sake, stop dreaming, idiot!" His voice sharpened further, tinged with a hint of mockery as if provoking the young man’s patience.
Around them, Fighters exchanged glances; the tension in the gym tightened once more like a string pulled to its limit, ready to snap at any moment.
The tall man did not relent. As soon as he finished speaking, he reached out with a powerful arm and shoved the young man hard. Caught off guard, the young man stumbled back several steps until he steadied himself against the ropes of the ring.
His gaze instantly sharpened; his fingers clenched into fists, knuckles whitening from exertion. He straightened up and coldly regarded the tall man, a glimmer of warning flashing in his eyes.
The others in the boxing gym held their breath; the atmosphere was stifling like the calm before a storm. Some whispered among themselves while others crossed their arms and watched coldly, seemingly eager to see how this confrontation would unfold.
Mark stood beside a sandbag, catching sight of this scene out of the corner of his eye. A faint smirk crept onto his lips as he paused his punching. Resting his hands lightly on the sandbag, he appeared indifferent yet intrigued by the situation before him. His gaze swept over the tall man and then back to the young man, assessing how this conflict might evolve.
Taking a deep breath to quell his rising anger, the young man stood tall. His expression was steely and determined, like a sword ready to be drawn from its sheath, fixating intently on the tall man before him. His fists tightened slightly, knuckles turning pale as he fought to restrain himself from striking immediately. His voice was low yet steady, carrying an undercurrent of suppressed strength: "I am a Law Enforcement Officer. I give you one last warning—do not provoke me again."
As soon as those words left his mouth, an even deeper silence fell over the boxing gym. Those who had been watching turned their heads in surprise; they clearly hadn’t expected this young man to be a Law Enforcement Officer. The air around them seemed to freeze momentarily, punctuated only by the occasional sound of fists hitting sandbags from across the room, which felt particularly jarring amidst the tension.
The tall man paused for a moment upon hearing those words, then a mocking smile spread across his face. He slowly raised an eyebrow, exaggeratedly widening his eyes, and lifted his hands as if in shock, his tone dripping with derision. "Oh—did you all hear that? He says he's a Law Enforcement Officer!"
His last word was drawn out deliberately, echoing throughout the Boxing Gym, filled with contempt and provocation. As he spoke, whispers began to circulate among the crowd, some even displaying faint smirks of disbelief.
The corners of the tall man's mouth curled into a deeper grin as he became even more audacious. "No wonder the gang problem is so severe—robberies, muggings, thefts are rampant everywhere. Turns out our Law Enforcement Officers are just this level!" He emphasized his words, pointing at the young man as if showcasing a worthless item.
"Look at him—skinny and small, with a student-like face. How can someone like this be a Law Enforcement Officer? Hahaha, it's no surprise this city is in such disarray!"
With his words, several Fighters around him burst into laughter. Some doubled over, one hand on their knee and the other pointing at the young man, laughing uncontrollably. A Fighter leaning against the wall raised an eyebrow and let out a mocking whistle, his tone thick with sarcasm. "Oh wow, Law Enforcement Officers—how hilarious! No wonder our security is such a spectacle!"
The young man's expression grew colder, his gaze sharp as a knife. His lips pressed into a straight line, and his arms trembled slightly as he struggled to suppress his emotions. He stood frozen in place like a volcano ready to erupt, while the surrounding laughter acted like sparks igniting his fury.
Seeing that the young man remained silent, the tall man stepped forward with an air of triumph, casting a shadow over him. He leaned down slightly, a sneer curling at the corner of his mouth as he spoke even more cuttingly. "What's wrong? Little Law Enforcement Officer, doesn’t it feel good to be mocked? Show me what you're really made of!"
The laughter around them grew louder, and the atmosphere in the Boxing Gym became increasingly oppressive, like a string pulled to its limit about to snap. Some people began to jeer while others quietly stepped back, seemingly waiting for this conflict to escalate. In that moment, it felt as if only the echoes of laughter and the young man's heavy breaths remained in the entire venue.
On the periphery of it all stood Mark beside the Sandbag, slightly tilting his head as he coldly observed the standoff. A subtle smirk played on his lips, carrying a hint of amusement mixed with indifference—as if he were watching an inconsequential farce unfold. His gaze flicked between the tall man and the young man, as if waiting for that final straw to break the balance and curious about how this apparent confrontation would ultimately unfold.
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