The next morning, Minh moved through school like a ghost.
His face was bruised, one eye swollen, ribs aching with every breath.But the worst damage was inside his mind.
Two voices — one lecturing him, one seducing him — kept firing into his skull at the same time.
He muttered under his breath.
"Shut up… please shut up…"
Students stared.
"Bro… is he okay?""He's talking to the wall…"
Minh clenched his teeth and kept walking.
As he turned the corner toward class, someone jumped in front of him.
Lâm.
He grabbed Minh's shoulder.
"MINH! What happened?! Why didn't you answer my texts? Why—"
Minh recoiled instinctively.
Lâm froze.
"You… look different," he said softly. "Like something snapped inside you."
Minh forced a smile that hurt his face.
"I'm fine. Just clumsy."
"That's not clumsy! You look like you fought a motorbike."
Minh stepped past him.
"I can handle it."
But Lâm watched him walk away, unsettled.
Because this wasn't the Minh he knew.This Minh walked like he was carrying something heavy and invisible.This Minh flinched at empty air.This Minh felt… distant.
After class, Minh finally opened the crumpled note again.
A location:"Gym Dạ Nam — 17:30."A small, old-school gym in District 8.Not flashy. Not trendy.The type of place only serious fighters or old uncles went to.
A message:"If you want strength, come."
No signature.
Minh hesitated on the sidewalk.
Ghost: "You are too injured to train."Gomboc: "Go. He'll show you REAL power. Let me help you impress him—"
"SHUT UP!"
Minh yelled out loud this time.
People on the street turned to stare.He bowed quickly, embarrassed, and shuffled away.
But he didn't turn back.
He headed straight for Gym Dạ Nam.
When Minh arrived, the sun had dipped behind the rooftops.The gym stood under a faded signboard, windows fogged from heat inside.
He stepped through the entrance.
The air smelled of sweat and old leather.Punching bags thudded rhythmically.Mats were torn at the edges.Nothing fancy — but the place felt alive.
And then Minh saw him.
The leather-jacket man stood in the center of the gym, sleeves rolled up, hands wrapped, instructing a muscular trainee.
He didn't need to shout.
When he moved, the air around him shifted — pressure, like a small invisible shockwave.
And then Minh saw it.
The leather-jacket man stood in front of a thick wooden post.He inhaled deeply — slow, controlled.
Then he struck.
The sound wasn't normal.It wasn't a slap or a punch.
It was a deep, vibrating boom, like the air itself cracked.
A ripple — subtle but unmistakable — shimmered from his fist through the post.The entire beam split straight down the middle.
Minh's eyes went wide.
That wasn't normal.That wasn't human strength.That wasn't physics.
To him, it looked like a superpower.
Minh whispered under his breath:
"…what… what even is that?"
The man heard him.
He wiped sweat off his knuckles and turned.
"You think that was strength?"
Minh nodded shakily.
"Some… some kind of super punch?"
The man snorted.
"That wasn't muscle. That wasn't magic.That was khí."
Minh blinked.
"Khí… like in old kung-fu movies?"
"No," the man said flatly."Those movies barely understand it."
He walked toward Minh, each step steady, grounded, precise.
"Khí is the life-force inside your body.Every living person has it.Most waste it.Some learn to sense it.A rare few learn to control it."
He raised his hand again — calm, relaxed — and Minh felt a faint pressure push against his skin even from meters away.
"Khí strengthens your frame.Hardens your bones.Sharpens your instincts.And when it's refined—"
He tapped Minh lightly on the forehead.
"—it can break far more than wood."
Minh swallowed, stunned.
"So… this is real? All the võ lâm stories?"
The man nodded once.
"Võ lâm never disappeared.It just went quiet.Hidden.Buried under the noise of the modern world."
He gestured around the gym.
"Some of us still protect its traditions.Others abuse them for power or profit.And most people?They will never know any of this exists."
Minh's heartbeat quickened.
"So when I fought those boys… when… when something inside me burst out…"
"That," the man said, "was the first spark of your khí reacting without control."
Minh froze.
"So I… I'm like you?"
The man shook his head; tossed the towel aside.
"So you have decided to come."
Minh stepped forward, trembling slightly.
"I… I want to learn. I want you to teach me."
The man raised a brow.
"You? Learn martial arts?"
"I don't want to be weak anymore," Minh blurted."Please teach me. I'll do anything."
The man snorted.
"You can barely stand."
"That's why I need help!"
The man walked closer, eyes scanning Minh from head to toe.
"You saw one display of khí and now you think you can handle that world?"He tapped Minh's forehead lightly."You don't even have control over what's—"He paused."—inside your own mind."
Minh stiffened.
"You can sense it, right? Something's wrong with me."
"Yes," the man said bluntly."You're chaotic. Loud. Unstable. A mess."
Minh lowered his head.
"But you still came here," the man continued."That means something."
Minh looked up.
"So… you'll train me?"
The man exhaled slowly.
"No."
Minh's breath hitched.
"But—"
"I don't train weak-willed brats who break after one beating," he said coldly."If you want me as a teacher, prove you're ready to die for it."
Minh froze.
"What… what do you mean?"
The man pointed to the back door of the gym.
"Follow."
The leather-jacket man led Minh to the private training room — small, dim, empty except for a steel bar suspended from the ceiling.
He pointed to it.
"Grab on."
Minh jumped, barely catching the bar.His ribs screamed.His arms trembled immediately.
Under him was a bed of broken bricks and gravel — jagged, uneven, dangerous.Not fatal, but enough to put someone in the hospital.
"What is this?" Minh asked, voice wavering.
"Your test," the man said."Hold that bar for five minutes. If you fall early, go home."
Minh's heart hammered.
"Five minutes?! I can't—"
"That's the point."
The voices hit him instantly:
Ghost: "Steady your breath. Slow your heartbeat. You trained for worse than this."Gomboc: "Fall. Break. Let me take over. You're weak on your own."
Minh gritted his teeth.
"SILENCE!"
The man raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"Time starts now."
Minute 1
Minh's arms trembled violently.Sweat dripped into his eyes.
The man watched impassively.
He won't last twenty seconds, he thought.
But Minh held on.
Minute 2
Pain shot through Minh's ribs.He hissed and adjusted his grip — something the ghost had drilled into him:
"Shoulders down. Core locked. Breathe on rhythm. Do not waste motion."
Minh did exactly that.
The man's eyes narrowed slightly.
Interesting.
Minute 3
Most untrained people would have dropped already.Minh's arms shook like wires about to snap…but he still hung on.
The man crossed his arms.
This kid is half-dead and still resisting gravity?
Minh groaned, biting back a scream.The ghost whispered instructions:
"Use the pain. Do not fear it. Let it sharpen you."
Minh fought to keep his slipping grip steady.
Minute 4
His palms burned.His back screamed.His breath wavered.
The man muttered under his breath:
"…He's still up?"
This wasn't normal.Not for someone who had been beaten half to death the day before.
Most gym trainees couldn't last this long.
Minh felt himself sliding.
"No—no—no—"
He adjusted, locking his elbows at an angle — a tiny, precise movement the ghost taught him during rooftop conditioning.
The man's eyes widened.
He knows how to conserve tension? Someone trained this boy. But who?
Minute 5
Minh wasn't hanging by strength anymore.
He was hanging by pure stubbornness.
He gasped:
"I… won't… fall!"
When the timer beeped on the man's watch, Minh's body was shaking violently, face pale, ribs visibly swelling.
The man finally spoke.
"Drop."
Minh let go.
He collapsed safely on the ground, just short of the broken bricks.
The man crouched beside him, studying his trembling arms.
"You should not have been able to do that."
Minh coughed weakly.
"I… trained… a little…"
The man frowned.
"Someone hardened your endurance. Your breath control is sloppy… but your pain tolerance is higher than most new fighters."
He narrowed his eyes, doubtingly.
"You have been trained...."
Minh hesitated.
The ghost's voice floated in:
"Do not reveal me."
Gomboc hissed:
"Tell him. He fears power he cannot see."
Minh simply shook his head.
"Do TikTok ah shit challenge everyday."
The man didn't believe him — but he didn't push.
He stood up.
"That's a dumb response, but fine."
He offered Minh his hand — for the first time.
Minh stared, shocked, then accepted it.The man pulled him to his feet.
"You passed," he said quietly."Barely. But you passed."
Minh's heart stuttered.
"So… you'll train me?"
The man looked him straight in the eyes.
"I don't know who toughened you. I don't know what's inside you. But your endurance is unnatural for a civilian."
A beat.
"And that scares me enough to want to keep an eye on you."
Then, softer:
"Be here tomorrow morning."
Minh exhaled, shaking with exhaustion and emotion.
"…Master."
The man clicked his tongue.
"Don't call me that yet. You're a disaster."
But there was a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.