Chapter 24: I Am the Super Hungry Wolf!
The time spent in training was incredibly monotonous. Bang did not immediately teach them martial arts but instead had everyone build a solid foundation—tempering their bodies.
There has never been a shortcut to mastering martial arts unless one is willing to pay an extreme price, such as sacrificing a part of themselves for a permanent gain.
Only by building a strong foundation and developing a resilient body can one truly bring out the power of martial arts.
Many people understand this simple truth, yet very few can truly follow through.
Most people, in the end, are impatient.
Throughout the process, Bang never gave Yamcha, his so-called chief disciple, any special guidance. Yamcha trained, ate, and lived with the other disciples without any distinction.
For many, this might have been unsettling. But Yamcha remained completely focused, as if he were just another ordinary disciple. He studied diligently and trained with utmost dedication. He understood how difficult martial arts training could be, how rare it was to have a good teacher, and how precious it was to finally have a structured and formal system of learning after all these years.
Thus, he devoured the knowledge that Bang imparted and meticulously followed his master's training regimen, never slacking off in the slightest.
Days passed—one, two… Some disciples began slacking.
Weeks passed—one, two… Some started cutting corners.
Months passed—one, two… Some couldn't take it anymore and left.
Among the 129 disciples, only two remained fully committed to the grueling training: Yamcha and the second disciple to arrive—Garou.
Over time, some disciples left the dojo. The hardships were one reason, but more importantly, conditioning the body was an incredibly tedious process. Modern people, accustomed to fast-paced lives, found this monotonous routine hard to bear.
The number of disciples gradually dwindled—from 129 to 113, then 105, until only 96 remained.
Many complained that Bang was not seriously teaching them martial arts.
But during this time, Yamcha realized that Bang's teachings heavily revolved around the concept of "fate."
The bond between master and disciple was also a kind of fate.
What most of these disciples failed to notice was that Bang had already embedded the core principles of the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist within the seemingly mundane training exercises.
If they failed to perceive it, it simply meant they lacked the "fate" to do so.
To master a new martial art, one must start from the basics, build up from the fundamentals, and understand it through intuition and experience.
Yamcha gradually grasped this. As time passed, he began to naturally execute techniques from the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist.
The Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist was a martial art that balanced offense and defense. It could deflect incoming attacks with a strange force, weaken their power, and then launch an unpredictable, fluid counterattack—swift, relentless, and devastating.
Against humanoid opponents, its effectiveness increased significantly. However, against non-humanoid creatures, its power diminished slightly.
It was a style highly dependent on "matchups."
However, it would be a mistake to think Bang was helpless against non-humanoid opponents. The truth was, he did not rely solely on the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist.
During their time at the dojo, there had been multiple instances of challengers coming to test their strength.
It had always been said—there is no "first place" in literature, but in martial arts, there is always a ranking. Even Bang, the grandmaster of the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist, was not exempt from challengers.
This world never lacked fools—arrogant, self-proclaimed "strongmen" who appeared out of nowhere, hoping to defeat Bang and make a name for themselves.
Of course, these people didn't take the "path of training" to reach their level—they arrived in a "sports car." After all, challengers needed to conserve their strength.
And the result?
Most of them couldn't even get past Garou.
This boy, Garou, was truly a standout among the future "bosses" of this world. His talent was astonishing, and his training was nothing short of madness. In just two months, his strength had skyrocketed to a terrifying degree—it was as if he had been reborn.
After joining Bang's dojo, Garou became his most fanatical supporter. He despised anyone who spoke ill of the dojo, especially those who dared to insult Bang.
One recent challenger had claimed that the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist was merely a self-defense technique for the weak. He ended up beaten to a pulp and thrown out.
Strictly speaking, the claim wasn't entirely wrong. Bang had always believed that his martial art was designed to help the weak defend themselves.
However, "a technique for self-defense" did not mean "a weak technique."
On the contrary, the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist was a style that grew stronger against stronger opponents. It also had the unique ability to absorb and incorporate techniques from other styles.
But very few practitioners could ever reach such a level.
Martial arts required talent.
Not everyone was like Garou. Not everyone was like Yamcha.
Sometimes, the gap between two people was even greater than the gap between a person and a pig.
"Hey, you cheater."
Garou blocked Yamcha, who had just finished a day of training and was preparing to rest.
Yamcha was publicly acknowledged as Bang's top disciple, but not everyone accepted this—especially not Garou.
This had always been a thorn in Garou's heart. If Yamcha had earned the title through his own strength, it would be one thing. But the key issue was that Yamcha had used "money powers" that day.
Garou couldn't accept this. He had never once called Yamcha "senior brother."
To him, Yamcha did not surpass him through his own ability—he had cheated. Originally, Garou, who was ranked second, should have been number one.
And so, today, Garou confronted Yamcha.
"What do you want?" Yamcha asked, expressionless.
He was in a hurry to return to enjoy a gourmet medicinal meal, specially airlifted from M City by helicopter. For Yamcha, enduring physical hardship was fine—but when it came to food, there was no compromise.
Just because he could eat simple fare like pickled vegetables and porridge didn't mean he liked it. In the past, he had no choice. Now that he had the means, he naturally wanted to eat well.
Besides, with his Pearl Jam ability, eating was practically part of his training.
Garou, dressed in a white martial arts uniform, leaped lightly onto a tall stone wall. Standing atop it, he looked down at Yamcha, hooked a finger at him in challenge, and said provocatively:
"I want you to fight me."
"If you lose—"
Garou pointed his thumb at himself and made a gesture reminiscent of a certain prince from the Dragon Ball world.
"You have to give up your title as the chief disciple. I will be the top disciple of the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist!"