19 What do you want?

That same weekend, Dash learned that Devon couldn't participate in training because she was visiting her grandmother. However, he told her it wasn't important since he also had plans and wouldn't be able to train much. In that case, what he had been doing was practicing jumps and kicks in the air. With a young body, Dash could do things he had never done before, and he easily began hitting a training dummy.

Pum! Pum! Pum!

After dozens of kicks using spinning kicks, Dash moved on to rising kicks, descending kicks, butterfly kicks, and hook kicks. All his kicks were precise, and only because he hadn't faced real opponents, he didn't know what level he was at the moment.

"Your strikes should be faster, stronger, and smarter..."

At that moment, Mr. Kim's voice came from behind where Dash was engrossed. With his typical haggard appearance, Mr. Kim walked toward the training dummy and kicked it.

Pum!

The kick sent the training dummy flying; the force was directed towards the chest, and the impact force was such that the blow itself seemed very strong.

"If you're going to face guys with much more experience than you, you should focus on close combat and train more abundantly in a single doctrine. Although Kung Fu is diverse, you don't have time to compare yourself to students with much more discipline than you, and you must get used to the idea that you could be defeated in the preliminaries."

Dash understood this point; it was challenging to beat students with much more experience and combat experience than him. The chances of winning were few, but he still wanted to try.

"I want to try, I don't mind if I lose. I want to prove that I'll be even stronger." Dash walked toward the training dummy and lifted it.

Looking at Dash's knuckles, Mr. Kim raised his eyebrows and said, "That's why you'll train with me on the upper part of your body, and when you're tired, we'll go for the lower part. At least, you should have experience in combat, and I'll make sure to teach you properly."

"Then, Master, can we practice now?" Dash asked much more confidently than when he started.

"We can do it. Get into position."

Dash nodded and raised his fists while slightly leaning his body. His gaze focused on his master's body, and at one point, he began to move.

Mr. Kim, with his serious face and penetrating eyes, received hard blows and began guiding Dash through the fundamental movements. Dash's grace and agility surprised Mr. Kim, who, although he didn't show it, saw innate potential in his young disciple.

When he started training Dash, he thought he would give up in a week, but contrary to that, he has worked even harder to train himself, and he was totally convinced that he wanted to participate in the tournament that would be held in China.

As the session progressed, Dash immersed himself more in the flow of the fight; his movements became faster and more fluid.

Mr. Kim, initially confident in his skills, began to notice exceptional skill in Dash's movements, a gleam of ability that went beyond his young age and was more akin to true masters.

"I must use my kicks more..." Dash trusted his kicks more than any other movement, so he tried to perform a hook kick.

But at that moment, just as he was about to execute a feinting move, a palm landed on his left shoulder, causing him to step back.

"That's enough for today; you've been training for a long time, so you should focus on resting."

Dash wanted to continue, but he was really tired, so he bowed and went straight to take a cold shower.

Mr. Kim, who was wiping off sweat, looked at his palms, which were sore from the strong blows, and murmured, "He really has a lot of talent; there's something more than just wanting to learn martial arts, and that will take him far..."

...

On the morning of the next day, Dash went to class like any other normal day, and the rest of the day passed normally.

During lunch, Devon said she had to attend some things related to an exhibition that many local schools were organizing, to which Dash nodded and went alone to the cafeteria for breakfast.

The food was simple, and although it wasn't appetizing, he ate what was safer since the last thing he wanted was to get sick from food he normally wouldn't taste. Besides, he wasn't picky; the food here reminded him of hospital food, so he would start bringing lunch from home.

Devon stopped Dash on his way back to the classroom after breakfast when there was still a little more time. She looked at him suspiciously and asked, "Surely you're not doing anything out of the ordinary without inviting me, right?"

"Not at all. I still haven't decided whether to fight against students, as I told you a few days ago..." murmured Dash, slightly thoughtful.

"It's a shame; it would have been a good memory for today..." Devon, along with Dash, returned to the classroom, and soon after, classes began.

"By the way, today I will talk to my dad about the tournament and propose the idea about going to China..."

"Good luck with that." Devon knew how Dash's relationship with his parents was, so all she could say was good luck.

For the rest of the day, there was nothing interesting. Dash and Devon agreed to meet later for today's training.

...

In the Hale Liquors building, Dash got out of a car and walked through the familiar place, heading to his father's office.

As usual, he didn't spend much time with his father, but he gave him attention when he needed something from him.

That's why today, he wanted to talk to him about the tournaments and hope for his approval.

When Frederick saw Dash enter his office, he looked at him for a moment and asked, "Well, what do you want?"