The resignation of Youngster Phong soon spread among the Pokemen, including the deeds of the mercenaries. Some praised for their courageous act to stop the bane; yet, some criticized the recklessness of the Leaders to allow a cursed outsider to act on their behalf. At the hospital, Thần met friends which possessed common interests, so most of the time he would hang out with them and stroll in the garden. He met Tân Thành next to a vending machine, and opened up the can. Thành noticed the newcomer, so he immediately put the coins in the slots.

Ding-Dong!

Another can rolled out of the bucket, for Thành threw it to the newcomer.

Both enjoyed the refreshment and burped refresh under the sunny morning. They stroll around unhurriedly, meet other patients and friends with a half handshake, and chit chat about random subjects. Sometime, people needed to go slow in the fast motion world, Thành said, and one never knew some commotion would bring them together as the current moment. The Leaders recognized the resignation of Youngster Phong, but they hardly expressed a sense of melancholy settled over the group. Perhaps, the phenomenal portrayed what men had to cope with the melancholy, calm and composed, giving no thoughts and tears to the act.

"But, me' Phong, the soul of costume men-" Thành uttered a mix of sadness and pride. From the beginning, Master Phong accepted the brothers and trained them at heart. Albeit his inability to combat, Phong unwavering determination and leadership had inspired men to become his costume men. "Hard to imagine a group, not him."

Thần nodded in agreement as they strolled to a corner where a sharpshooter hung out with the costume men. The boys met with the hand gesture, formed a pact and walked a little more.

"Phong pushes us to our limits-" Minh shared a hint of nostalgia in the conversation. Because of his inspiration, the boys always pushed themselves to become better. As a sharpshooter, the costume men supported a constant source of defense in the battle. Hence, Minh felt that the Pokemen could hardly become the current status without him. Following the bittersweet sentiments, moments of lightheartedness sparkled. Minh grinned; shared a fond memory. "Pikacho never listens to Phong when he's tired."

"Yellow man zap-zap Phong-" Thành guffawed when remembering one time Pikacho and Phong had a ruckus in between. "Phong mad, bad yellow man."

The Leaders carried on with memories, sharing their unique perspective on Youngster Phong. Thần recognized their expressions of gratitude for the forged friendships, for the shared laughter and tears, and for the irreplaceable bond which men had formed. While in the collective reminiscing, Thần also realized a shared acknowledgement of the void which would be left behind. However, among the sadness, men seemed to understand a journey a man had to walk to continue elsewhere, perhaps the place where a new horizon lied. Strolling aimlessly in the zone, the wandering boys caught a conversation between men.

"How are you?" Master Phong asked. "I still see you have that look."

"So what?" The inquiry sat on a bench, paid no mind to the conjunction, and read a book. "Is it ever your concern?"

Master Phong silenced and gazed aimlessly beyond the horizon. The man conducted no motion, stood still with his eyes overloaded with heavy thoughts. Men remained silent as the wind blew to the Southern sea, only the leaves rustled, demanding to confide a talk.

"I-"

"Do not talk to me-" the inquiry interrupted the speech as if he knew the content from the conjunctor. The man, then, turned a page from his book with grace, paying no mind once more. "You already knew the answer."

"This isn't about you, Thuận-" Master Phong stepped forward; emphasized on his tone. "Days to come you will become the new seed of the sect."

"So what?" The inquiry ceased to turn the current page and stared deadly in the eyes. "Now I prove useful to you?"

Master Phong fell into a tense silence, his lips pressed tightly together as if harboring a storm within. His counterpart, acutely aware of the brewing tempest, forcefully slammed shut a hefty tome. The echoes of the book's resounding closure seemed to reverberate through the very core of their martial enclave. The man's frustration knew no bounds, and he couldn't help but lay blame on Master Phong for a day that might have altered the course of a loyal friend, leading him down the shadowed path of darkness.

The commotion was unbearable, and all might have ended if the revered Master Phong would simply acknowledge his friend's actions. In a world where actions spoke louder than conventional social niceties, these speeches seemed trivial and tiresome.

"I blame you for this!" Thuận's voice rang out like a thunderclap, laden with the weight of every heroic deed his friend had ever undertaken in the name of loyalty and devotion to their esteemed order. Thuận, however, was baffled by his friend's failure to earn the coveted status and the honor that came with it. Thuận knew all too well that their Master had been overseeing them since their grueling training days and dangerous missions.

In this heart-wrenching moment, Thuận finally confronted the uppermost authority. He reprimanded him for not recognizing the day his friend strayed into the abyss of darkness. The friend pleaded with the Master to acknowledge the deed, hoping that the Master could guide him back from the precipice of damnation. The Master had once taught them that their bond should be as unbreakable as brothers in arms, forged in the fires of shared hardship. Yet, that very bond had been shattered. "I am not the one!"

"Yes, you are," Master Phong replied, but his gaze was directed downwards at the ground. He couldn't bear to meet Thuận's eyes.

"I am not the one!" Thuận's voice soared, his frustration manifesting as he threw a book in the direction of the Master, pointing angrily at his subject. The tension between Thuận and Master Phong hung heavily in the air, suffocating the harmony within their martial order. A bitter truth weighed heavily on Thuận's heart, kindling resentment and frustration. "I am not the chosen one!"

"Yes, you have to-" Master Phong began to explain but was abruptly cut off. "What you did at the fight back then proves you worthy."

Thuận's fury erupted like a volcano, a torrent of Qi shooting towards the opponent.

Boom!

An explosion, though small, sent Thuận stumbling backward. He stumbled on his feet, rolling over as the fiery energy disrupted his balance.

"Behave," Master Phong's voice was cold as steel, and his gaze remained unwavering. The upper man's stoic demeanor protected him from confronting the painful reality. Understanding and validation were lost in the cacophony of unspoken events. "The uppermen will demand your proper attitudes and manners."

Once the Master had departed, the other boys rushed to help Thuận back to his feet. The blast had been a stern warning to any who dared oppose the Master's will. In time, Thuận regained his composure and discussed Master Phong's resignation. The boys decided to respect the Gym Leader's decision and organized a farewell party for him a few days later. As for filling the leadership void, the decision would ultimately rest in the hands of the costumed council. The Gym Leaders nodded in agreement, ready to act as the new leader's mandate demanded.

While mercenaries had not yet placed bids for their services, Thần could take advantage of the rare moment to explore the scene. Before embarking on his journey, however, he might consider seeking answers from the new leader.

"What's the ruckus?" Thần inquired about the new leader. "It seems explosive!"

"Playing with words-" Thuận acknowledged with a chuckle to the mercenary, thus briefly explaining the tensions between him and the upperman. Master Phong taught the boys all the skills and technique to fight for their own sakes. They used to walk together, yet, it seemed words fell on deaf ears of the Master. The once familiar and comforting conventions of social speech felt hollow and tiresome in the face of that palpable tension, as if the shared language they once possessed had forlong, isolating and disconnecting in their mutual shares. "It seems everything has changed."

"You are the new leader," Thần tried to cheer up the situation. "You should be happy!"

"Not at all- '' Thuận shook his head in denial, exhaling in deep thoughts. Every step the boys took that fight further deepened the chasm between them, and Thuận grasped with a mix of anger and sorrow. The unspoken words, the lack of acknowledgment, served as a constant reminder of the lingering pain and unresolved conflict. The Fervent Master perhaps for long with the darkness, Thuận then had to carry the burden and guilt. Amidst of that strained relationship, Thuận felt a delicate dance of uncomprehended emotions and unresolved grievances. Each interaction with the boys became a reminder of the broken bonds; trust and the longing for a resolution that they promised. Thuận never thought of becoming a leader and such, as he never yearned for the paperwork and heavy responsibility. The man was eager to discover the world outside of An Nam, the further of Olbus with strange lands and bizarre creatures. Nevertheless, fate designated the free soul to carry the dishonor and misfit. "Maybe, I am not ready for this."

"About the previous combat-" Thần inquired for a response. "Why don't you guys use the Doxx?"

"Hmm, I know you would ask-" Thuận smiled since indeed the Pokemen established the Doxx, so they had to utilize them well. Overdoxx posed an enhancer, for example, gym enthusiasts tended to use steroids on their body to become stronger and muscular. The Doxx basically affected the same to the body, so Qi users tended to use Doxx on their body to become stronger and endurance. If one misused the Doxx, one could mess with the circular of Qi. At the previous battle, most fighters would consume little Doxx to boost their circular flow. However, the Pokemen, in the perspective of Thuận, took pride in their skills and training; so, the rules would become stricter when deciding to use the Doxx. "Personally, I would rather not use the Doxx unless I can make it out alive."

"What about the resignation?" Thần asked about the news. "What's your plan?"

"Respect his choice," Thuận concurred with the final decision of the conversation. Albeit the tension that permeated their bond, Thuận held onto a belief of freewill. A man had to choose his next path to recognize the significance of the new opportunity, in such a way that he would find the strength to connect the divine spirit and heal the inner wounds that had driven him apart. "And so, let it be."

Until the upperman published the official resignation, the boys remained calm and composed, casting a shadow over their every interaction and leaving them both yearning for the elusive reconciliation that could bring closure to their shared pain. Thần walked along the corridor with thoughts lingering on footsteps; unhurriedly returned to his designated room after a long day.

"Yo, what's up?" greeted their roommate, his eyes glued to a MOBA game as he welcomed the new arrivals. "You must be my roomie."

Thần observed the friendly roommate, but before he could respond, his attention was drawn to the rather unusual sight next to his roommate's bed. There, resting casually, was a Guan Dao Halberd, a towering presence in the room. Noticing the bemused expression on Thần's face, the roommate took it upon himself to introduce his trusty companion. The maker had crafted the blade from high-quality steel, honed to a razor's edge. Its length, a staggering 7 feet, had been tailored to match the wielder's height and preference.

The boys inspected the ash shaft of the Guan Dao, which bore intricate carvings and embellishments. At the base of the shaft, the Guan Dao boasted a pointed steel cap, perfect for striking opponents or maintaining balance during combat. Even to those who had never seen such a weapon before, it exuded a fearsome aura.

"Đụ má, fam-" Lâm, who seemed entirely wrapped in white bandages, hastily approached Thần and whispered in his ear, "Dat ting' can chop shit off, name it."

"Tempting, but flawed," chimed Thuận, who had entered with an injected rolling salt bottle aside. He shut the door and turned his attention to the weapons. With an analytical eye, he pointed out the weaknesses of the Guan Dao. Its weight and length posed challenges for extended use and for those lacking the necessary strength and training. Moreover, in close combat situations, the long pole of the Guan Dao left a vulnerability to fast-moving or agile opponents skilled in dodging its strikes. Thuận also emphasized the weapon's lack of versatility in combat, particularly in scenarios requiring quick, precise movements or attacks from multiple angles. "In many cases, it is hard to strike opponents who are close to the ground or below the waistline."

"Huh, I guess you are a Qi addict," their roommate chuckled, his gaze sharp as he scrutinized Thuận. He noted that Qi users often faced susceptibility to disruptions and blockages. According to a reliable news source, Qi flowed through the body along specific channels known as meridians. Any blockage or disruption could impede the flow of Qi, leading to various physical and emotional health issues. Additionally, external factors like stress, illness, or environmental toxins could interfere with Qi flow, resulting in a weakened immune system, fatigue, or other health concerns. Their roommate was quick to emphasize that, despite harnessing and cultivating Qi through practice, Qi users were not invulnerable to physical harm. "Only training your body can protect yourself against physical harm, but even those with powerful Qi cannot evade death."

"Splendid analysis, gamer-" Thuận slowly clapped his hands. "Yet, your training still leads you to the hospital."

"People like you, using Qi like it's a charity," the roommate grumbled, clearly fed up with the talking Tom spouting theoretical nonsense while occupying his bed. "Let's settle this outside and see who's right."

Tensions crackled in the air as Thần and his roommate squared off. Moments later, the group had assembled in the garden, forming a circle around the makeshift arena. The anticipation was palpable as the two fighters entered the ring.

Lâm, who had become the designated announcer, took the floor. He introduced the fighters, framing the battle as a feud between a spell master and a Guan Dao practitioner, a vanguard. Lâm provided a brief rundown of their strengths and weaknesses, setting the stage for the impending showdown. Betting quickly ensued, with men vociferously shouting out their wagers, brandishing everything from hospital lunch tickets to cold hard cash as they placed their bets with Youngster Phong and Khải Minh, the resident bookies.

With the bets placed and the fighters prepared, Tân Thành conducted a final check of their readiness. He raised a hand and, with a swift gesture, signaled for the fight to commence. The crowd fell silent, their eyes locked on the intense standoff between the Guan Dao enthusiast and the Qi master, both poised to prove the merits of their respective skills. The Guan Dao swung with deadly precision, while the Qi master began to channel his energy, ready to unleash his formidable spells.

Fight!

As the referee signaled, the gamer charged, the Qi master gestured his hand signs to form a blue Bagua.

爆

The ancient character sent the fighter stumbling back; but, he recovered, swinging his weapon in a wide arc which narrowly missed the enemy.

The Qi master approached and opened a close-combat, but the Guan Dao wielder dodged and rolled, avoiding the worst of the infused palm fists. The wielder charged again, the Guan Dao whistling through the air, but the Qi master fed the blue Bagua the command line to form a stance. The Bagua reacted to the stance, forming a symbol of equilibrium on the ground.

靠

Oooooommmmmm

Ancient characters wrapped the body, the spell master placed his weight on right foot, and turned waist slightly to the right to catch the first strike of the opponent. Continuously, his right palm rose and faced the body — as left hand pressed down and left heel peels off the floor, plucking and rending the enemy. With all weight on right, he turned waist to face the side wall, allowing right hand to float upwards and sweeped left around abdomen while starting to move left foot toward the side wall. The momentum dragged the opponent along the flow. The spell master saw the opportunity to finish by completing waist turn to side wall, turning palm upward and floating hand just above to catch the upper strike of the enemy. Thuận descended the left hand near his thigh; turned slightly outward and placed toe down forward toward the side wall just to the outside of the right heel. Thuận thus swiftly tucked his elbow and shoulder in the opponent's body and exploded with excessive force.

"Wait, what?" The instance movement of the spell master surprised Thần, the spectator. "How come he is so fast?"

"That's the basic combat of the sect," Khải Minh commented on the situation. Usually, disciples would learn basic combat movements besides spell casting, such as the signature move - White Crane Spread Wings. Thus, as one could be aware, Thuận recently converted the enemy's momentum to his advantage. "That's why he is able to strike decisively and effectively!"

The two opponents retaliated seamlessly, the wielder swung the weapon with his physical strength and skill, the Qi Master closed the gap the White Crane Spread Wings. The battlefield turned into a chaotic turmoil of energy, with close-combat clashing in a deadly choreography. Suddenly, Thần felt a hot energy lingering in the space. The eyes could vaguely describe the redness of that lingering and traced to its source, the Guan Dao wielder. As the fight continued, the redness wrapped the wielder as if mystical blood could appear on the surface. When the moment came, the wielder grinned and bursted his red Qi.

"What gimmick is this?" Thuận used a hand covering the outburst force which pushed him back. "Don't tell me you rage quit on the fight."

"I will never surrender in my war." The Guan Dao wielder glowed in a red aura with red glowy eyes. "But, when I do, you're already dead."

血战

Ooooooooooooooooo!

The oozing echoed in space after the ancient characters illuminated and wrapped around the red aura.

Thần could hear his heartbeat, but lightly as if a new hunting session soon began. The aura inflicted light pressure to the surrounding, yet the ghost could sense little Qi pressuring on the ephemeral body.

However, both began to tire due to the recent wounds. The Qi master enhanced buff took the toll on his mind, and he tried to keep up with the physical strength of the Guan Dao fighter. The wielder sensed his opponent's weakness; but, failed to presse the advantage, for the wounded legs from an accident. Their movement slowed and started to lose its accuracy.

"I told you Qi wasn't easy-" the wielder mocked the enemy, caught in his breath. "I could have beat you in my best state."

"Nice try-" the Qi master stood panting and exhausted which made the blue Bagua flickered its lights. "I know your weakness, don't complain too much."

The Qi master inhaled deeply and raised his hand signs, calling forth the ancient characters from the Bagua. The Guan Dao wielder knew it would cause trouble to him once more, so he had to approach the enemy fast before the spell completed. A swing from the shallow edge hit the Qi master which gave no room for him to react before completing the spell, sending him flying back several feet. Imbuing the red Qi to the weapon, nothing could stop the Guan Dao fighter as he leaped to deliver the final blow. The Qi master arose on his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain, and performed a quick cast. The Spell Master continued to unleash his magical onslaught, but the Guan Dao fighter dodges and weaves around the energy blasts, getting closer and closer to his opponent. Both started clashing with their red and blue, bombing the surrounding with explosive air pressure. The crowds went wild, men cheered and bet on their champions while the surrounding painted in colors. Finally, when the fighters knew one of them had to deliver a final blow, both channeled their ego in the last attempt, outcried and surged in with their colors weaving the air.

Boooom!

A figure interrupted amidst the purple explosion, ceasing all actions of the fighters.

Master Phong landed between the combatants and marked his arrival with an explosive thud on the ground. As the powerful legs kneel down lightly to absorb the impact, Master Phong exuded a calm and commanding presence.

"Youngblud want to die-trying?" The man held out his arms, chanting a barrier between the Spell Caster and the Guan Dao wielder. The atmosphere seemed to shift, and an aura of serenity enveloped the battlefield. "Y'all better not be in my sight."

"G' damn, old geezer!" a spectator shouted. "This is anti-climatic!"

"Damn it, fool!" another spectator lamented. "I bet my cash on this."

Master Phong gazed at the fighters with a mixture of unapproval and doubt, but his gesture deemed a clear message—an appeal for peace and sanity amidst a hospital garden.

Both fighters hesitated, their weapons and defenses ceased by the Master's intervention. The sighed crowd soon dispersed as peace came back to the atmosphere once more. When trying to stealthily sneak among the crowd, a spell halted a mercenary to escape the scene.

"Wait, why me!" Thần returned to the scene as the spell forced the legs to step backward. "I did not do anything!"

"Old man, do you know who I am?" The Guan Dao wielder outburst; tried to break the spell. "I'm in one of the schools in the country."

The Master paid little attention to the banter, opting instead to cast a gravity spell on the fighter who had challenged his roommate. The sudden surge of weight caused the man to stumble and struggle to regain his footing. After gathering the youngsters involved in the fight, Master Phong decided it was time to impart a lesson. He subjected the boys to a grueling physical workout, forcing them to run laps around the garden. Those who had been fighters bore the brunt of his frustration, enduring an hour of push-ups with the added weight of a gravity spell on their bodies. It was a trial of sweat and tears, and the boys longed for the chance to catch their breath.

"Fuck this bullshit," Thông gasped, sprawled out on the ground, his breath ragged. "I'm gonna tell this to the supervisor."

"I know who your supervisor is," Master Phong replied calmly. "Just tell him and see."

"The fuck," Thông exclaimed in surprise. "Who the hell are you?"

"Shut the fuck up," Thuận added, also struggling for breath. "The Master is not joking. Brace yourself for another round."

Footsteps approached, heralding the arrival of a newcomer, as Master Phong had anticipated. This figure carried a Guan Dao, a weapon that appeared more embellished than the one by the bed. The name tag on the left chest read "Captain Khôi," and the uniform bore a rich, deep shade of red, symbolizing strength, courage, and a sense of duty. Intricate black trim and gold embroidery adorned the fabric, depicting dragons and cranes, which symbolized power and harmony.

"You're late, Captain Khôi," Master Phong remarked, scanning the newcomer's jacket with a critical eye.

"Phong, you two-cent crackhead-" Captain Khôi reached into one of his pockets, producing essential tools and equipment, and lit a cigarette. "Last time you had one of my men blow a fuse, now you're running a circus in a hospital?"

Gray smoke hung in the air as the older men regarded each other. Sunlight cast a revealing light on the right shoulder crest, bearing the emblem of the 草帽 (Nhược Lạp) Clan. The emblem showcased a stylized depiction of a dragon and crane, embodying the harmony between strength and wisdom. Captain Khôi shook his head in disbelief, taking another drag from his cigarette. His silence spoke volumes as he tossed a bag of intel to the front.