"ROAR!" Logan didn't care about the rules of the mat or the polite confines of the challenge. His primal instincts, humiliated by being outmaneuvered and thrown twice, surged violently to the surface. His blood was boiling, and his vision narrowed to a red haze focused solely on teaching the smug kid in front of him a visceral lesson—claws or no claws.
He was furious. From the very first direct exchange, the Grandmaster had not even allowed Logan a clean touch, manipulating his heavy body and superior raw momentum against him with frustrating ease.
This was a damning indictment of Logan's reliance on brute force and his healing factor over refined combat technique—a weakness often exploited in the film series where ninjas and skilled fighters could briefly overwhelm him before his immortality kicked in.
Having seen Logan's animalistic rage countless times in his previous life's media, Huang Wen keenly sensed the imminent, unmistakable pop that signaled the extension of the Adamantium claws. That simply could not happen in front of fifty new students and a Hall full of Chinatown residents.
Public exposure of a mutant with retractable metal weapons would instantly shatter the martial arts school and bring the full, unwanted attention of SHIELD down on his head.
No time to think. Only to act.
Huang Wen reacted with blinding speed. He didn't run; he flowed. He activated the newly integrated Snow-Treading Plum Blossom Search lightness skill, and in a single, silent flicker, he bypassed the raging mutant and appeared directly behind him, a human silhouette against the sunlit window.
Logan truly lived up to his reputation as a predator. Even though his own physical speed was momentarily overwhelmed, his wild beast instincts and enhanced reflexes allowed him to perceive the sudden, impossible void where his opponent had been. He began to pivot, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
"Sunflower Acupuncture Technique," Huang Wen whispered, but the move was anything but subtle.
Before Logan could fully turn, Huang Wen's fingers—now infused with the precise, needle-like power of Bai Zhantang's Qi—moved like an unstoppable gust of wind and lightning. He struck a rapid sequence of pressure points on Logan's back and neck.
Logan's muscles instantly locked up. His rotation ceased abruptly, his arms frozen mid-swing, his knees stiffening in place. He was completely paralyzed, a statue of rage unable to fulfill its violent promise.
No claws! Thank the system's foresight, Huang Wen mentally sighed in relief. If the blades had been halfway out, this would have been a disaster.
"You! What in the blazing hell is this trick?" Logan's voice was strained, his eyes wide with a combination of shock and suspicion. He felt nothing wrong with his muscles, no pain, yet he couldn't twitch a single finger. His body was a cage of his own making, locked from the outside.
Mind control? Logan instantly suspected. Is this kid a psychic mutant? He had felt this exact sensation before when Professor Charles Xavier had briefly immobilized him, and the memory brought bile to his throat.
"I apologize, Mr. Logan, but I assure you, I am not one of those 'mutants' you speak of," Huang Wen said, giving the audience a practiced, reassuring smile. "This is genuine Chinese martial arts—specifically, the art of Acupressure, or Dim Mak."
He then addressed the stunned crowd of students: "In the profound philosophy of Kung Fu, the human body is traversed by countless pressure points and meridians. By striking or pressing the correct point with enough force and precision—something requiring Grandmaster-level Qi—one can induce any number of responses."
"For instance, I can strike a point and temporarily paralyze the opponent, as you see now. Or, I can strike a different point, and make him laugh nonstop. I could even make him weep uncontrollably if I wished to be cruel."
Huang Wen then quickly released the initial paralyzing points, just enough to allow basic movement. Logan, desperate to regain control and thrash the smug Grandmaster, instantly coiled for a strike. But before he could even raise his Adamantium fist, Huang Wen's finger flashed out again, striking a different, highly specialized point.
Logan's massive, hairy body shuddered. Then, an awful, uncontrollable sound erupted from his throat—a booming, hearty, yet utterly strained LAUGHTER.
"Hahahaha! Ah-hahahaha... stop it! You little—hahahaha!"
Logan was genuinely distressed. He possessed a will forged in nuclear fire, an immortality that mocked pain, yet he could not stop the involuntary spasms of mirth that wracked his body. He was forced to laugh, openly and wildly, in front of a Hall full of awestruck students. He abandoned the mutant theory entirely; no mutant ability he'd ever seen possessed this kind of ridiculously nuanced control.
"Brother Wen, so that mythical acupressure is real! That is so much cooler than Wing Chun! Can we learn that too?" Zhong Qiang, his eyes shining like twin beacons, rushed forward, utterly captivated.
"It is not that simple, my young student," Huang Wen replied, gently shaking his head while keeping a wary eye on the laughing Logan.
"Your Uncle Hong never used it, did he? To master this, you not only need a comprehensive, almost supernatural understanding of human anatomy and meridian pathways, but you must first reach the level of a Grandmaster in a foundational art like Wing Chun, and then spend decades refining your Internal Force purity."
"A Grandmaster and then further refinement..." Zhong Qiang deflated slightly, but the sheer impossibility of the goal only sharpened the determination in his eyes.
The students around them, who had grasped the explanation, felt a similar mix of disappointment and renewed drive. The very idea that Wing Chun was the key to unlocking that level of impossible power—the power to make an unbeatable man laugh—was the ultimate adrenaline shot. Apprentice level suddenly seemed like a worthwhile first step on an epic road.
"Q-quick... haha, for the love of... haha, stop... stop this ridiculous... hahaha!" Logan managed to force out a fragmented plea through the bursts of uncontrollable cackling.
"Mr. Logan, have you officially conceded the challenge?" Huang Wen asked smoothly, seizing the advantage while Logan was incapacitated by comedy.
"I concede... I give up... hahahaha!" Logan finally squeezed out the surrender, his face dark red from the effort and the mortification. Even a man with his profound resilience couldn't handle the crushing loss of control, especially when it was this humiliating.
"Ding! Mission 1, 'Defeating Wolverine Logan,' completed. Reward: One draw for a Super Item."
A triumphant wave of joy washed over Huang Wen. He instantly released the pressure point.
Logan sucked in a massive gulp of air, his laughter dying down to a furious, shaking silence. He glared at Huang Wen, his expression now serious, completely devoid of aggression.
"Is this truly Chinese Kung Fu?" Logan asked, his voice low and raspy. "I've faced martial artists from every corner of the globe. I've never encountered anything with this level of precision and control."
"Every field has its apex," Huang Wen replied, a controlled measure of pride returning to his voice. "In the realm of Chinese Kung Fu, I am merely the current example of that apex. However, Mr. Logan, a gentleman always honors his wager. You have lost. You will not renege on the deal, will you?"
"Hmph! What do you take me for?" Logan scoffed, adjusting his posture. "Since I lost, I'll uphold my end. I'll become your instructor." He paused, his gaze turning dark and cautionary. "But be warned: I have the temper of a rabid badger and I attract trouble like a magnet. Are you absolutely certain you want me hanging around to teach your students?"
"As long as Mr. Logan confines his more... lethal training methods to the shadows, some practical, rough-and-tumble sparring will be extremely beneficial for their conditioning," Huang Wen said, giving Logan a warm, welcoming smile. He certainly wasn't going to let his walking lottery ticket—a source of high-level tasks—walk out the door.
"Fine. But if the heat gets too hot, I walk," Logan agreed grudgingly. He then fixed his gaze on the nervous cluster of students. "Alright, kids. Who among you wants to learn how to punch hard enough to break a brick wall?"
"Ding! Mission Two: 'Make Wolverine a Wing Chun instructor,' complete. Reward: One draw for a Super Skill."
The system chime brought a quiet, inner euphoria to Huang Wen. Two Super draws secured in five minutes. This was advancement on a cosmic scale.
He looked at Logan—the new combat instructor—whose sheer physical presence was already making the students straighten up. "For now, their strength is insufficient for your advanced sparring. You should oversee their conditioning for me and make sure they focus on building resilience and speed. Don't let them slack off."
Huang Wen was elated. This proved his new hypothesis: actively seeking high-level problems (like Wolverine) was exponentially better than passively waiting. And the rewards were staggering.
He realized the golden path: obtaining Extraordinary Characters through the lottery was the fastest way to the Legendary realm.
The cumulative attribute gain from the draws was the ultimate cheat. If he could keep Logan busy, keep the tasks coming, and keep accumulating these powerful characters, reaching 100 Qi or 1000 Essence wasn't a matter of if, but when.
He fixed his gaze on Logan again, but this time, the look was filled with a deep, almost comical gratitude. The brooding, immortal warrior was now seen not as a threat, but as the world's most valuable, albeit volatile, asset. My beautiful, grumpy cash cow.