Chapter 361 Death and Destiny

At the moment, a shirtless man was hitting a wooden stump in the courtyard. He seemed to be in his late fifties, going on to sixty, but he looked extremely fit and well-built, unlike the avid gym-goer’s bulky bodies. His body was chiseled and toned, a flawless piece of work by the man himself. To have such a toned physique, one had to be consistently practicing martial arts, training, and sculpting the body. The martial art he was practicing was a style called Wing Chun. A set of flurrying motions awarded anyone watching a visual feast but also concealed its immense power. Dickson Watt entered the courtyard and stood there, watching the old man practicing his moves. About three minutes later, the man finally stopped. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and turned toward Dickson. He was too focused on his training and did not notice the arrival of a visitor. A look of surprise appeared on his face. “Who are you?” he asked. Dickson smiled cheerfully. He opened his mouth, exposing his perfect pearly whites, and bowed at the man. “Sir, my name is Dickson Watt, and I come from West Suez.” “Dickson Watt?” The man was a little confused. “Why are you here?” As he spoke, he seemed to realize something and changed his tone. “Are you here to learn from me? “I cannot believe that you found me—Chauncey Yacovone, as I live in exclusion here at Riverdale. Tell me, young man, how did you find me?” Dickson shook his head. “You misunderstood me, sir. I am not here to learn. “As for the question of how I found you, it was not hard at all. Before I came, I found Hung Ga Master in the north, Staff Monk in the woods, and the journeying Swordmaster. “As for you, Chauncey Yacovone, Wing Chun Master, according to rumors, you are currently the strongest Wing Chun Master in Celestial Empire, is that right? “Also, you had your dojo at Imperial Capital City but was tired with life in the city and left to live alone here three years ago?” Chauncey frowned. “It is not very respectful of you to go snooping for my past. So, tell me, since you are not here to learn from me, why exactly are you here?” “To knock you down or be killed by you.” Dickson’s vibe instantly changed. Just moments ago, he was smiling brightly. With a pair of clean clothes on, he looked just like the boy next door. Yet, a viscous aura seemed to emanate from his body, like a beast moments away from losing control. The instant emanation seemed to have lowered the temperature in the courtyard by a few degrees. Chauncey frowned hard. His muscles flexed and twitched instinctively. “Do you intend to challenge me?” he asked. “Punches and kicks are blind. Only fate decides our mortality,” Dickson replied. He went charging toward Chauncey like a cannon bolt. He was very fast, with punches flurrying like rain in a storm. As he approached Chauncey, at least seven punches were thrown. He did not hold back at all, with all his attacks lusting for blood. Chauncey was confused, but at this point, he was forced to focus his attention on the uninitiated assault. He heightened his perception, just like an eagle looking for its prey, and dodged the attacks. With the agile motion of his feet, he evaded Dickson’s punches as quickly as he could. As a true Wing Chun Master, his prowess could never be matched by the frauds reported in the newspapers. Authentic Wing Chun was lethal in both offense and defense. The duo fought under the scorching sun. Each of their attacks quicker than the previous ones as their thunderous punches punctured their surrounding stillness. Dickson’s current capability was not the best in the world, but he was always unbeatable in his mind. Since the beginning, they exchanged at least a hundred punches between them, with Dickson on the weaker side of the battle. If it was someone else, they might have collapsed under the immense mental strain. Not Dickson though. Instead, he seemed to be going stronger than before. Unbeatable, undefeated, the best in the world. These were the only thoughts in his mind. Chauncey let out a soft growl as he broke Dickson’s attack and followed up with his strikes. His punch connected with Dickson’s chest, and as his opponent’s defense broke, a flurry of punches came right after. It was Wing Chun’s basic attacking move. Chauncey landed at least a dozen punches in just the blink of an eye, rapidly like the needle on a sewing machine, on Dickson’s chest. The punches seemed soft, but as Wing Chun was all about the transfer of explosive power over quick and short distances, they were actually devastating blows. Each one of these blows could bring immense damage to Dickson’s body. Under the barrage of punches, he retreated a good eight meters before Chauncey withdrew his fists and kicked him a good distance away. Laying on the ground, he felt a deep spasm in his chest and felt the distinct metallic taste of blood in his throat. One big gulp, and he swallowed the blood back down. Seeing Dickson’s look of determination, Chauncey had nothing but respect for him. He said, “Brother, you have great potential in martial arts and good mental fortitude. You will go far. Yet, you are no match for me today. Please, leave.” Dickson did not get up after hearing Chauncey’s words. Instead, he smiled, exposing his blood-spotted teeth, and said, “The game has only just begun.”