Mighty Soldier King

"In my opinion, the martial arts techniques of H Country are rubbish. I'm invincible, losers.

Martial arts originated from D Country. Yours look so much like cheap knockoffs. Trust me, you do not want to fight me,"

Wesley Han said, mocking his opponents when he got the upper hand.

He then raised his middle finger to couple his trash talk, addressing the whole people of H Country.

"You fucking idiot! What are you talking about?

Shut up, or we will kill you!

Who do you think you are? How dare you!" people around Wesley Han shouted loudly.

His words infuriated them. They wanted so badly to beat him up.

Even the policemen had to control their temper as they were from H Country as well.

The last thing they wanted was for this little conflict to escalate into a diplomatic issue.

This kind of thing could definitely affect the relationship between the two countries.

"Hahaha! Your anger will not do anything. Only action can. If you feel angry, come at me. I'm waiting for you," Wesley Han continued, further provoking the crowd.

He looked around with testing eyes. "You are all weak! Cowards!

Is there anyone here brave enough to fight me? Anyone? Someone? No one? Weak shits! You're all pussies! Hahaha!" he boomed.

Anger boiled up in the people around the boxing ring.

They wanted to kill Wesley Han, but they knew they were no match for him.

It was an awful feeling that churned inside them. Despite being degraded and provoked, there was nothing they could do.

"Why is he so arrogant? I must do something," Peter said thoughtfully.

"What? Are you sure? Wesley Han is a very good martial artist. I heard a lot of things about him. In fact, I recorded his fights here on my phone. Would you need these?" Audrey asked Peter.

"As the saying goes, 'Know yourself and know the enemy.' I suggest you watch these to educate yourself about who yo

ey saw from Wesley Han stunned them.

Lance was shocked too.

Luckily, he managed to immediately move out of the way and landed a punch on Wesley Han's legs.

Boom! Pak! Swoosh!

The sound of skin against skin was the only noise that could be heard throughout the whole stadium. Lance was in pain. His chest was broken, and now, apparently also his fists.

He flew backward into the air, badly injured.

The moment he fell to the floor, Wesley Han kicked him hard.

PAK!

Lance started to bleed. Several broken bones followed his already-broken rib cage.

He screamed in pain as he lay on the floor. His face was grey and his eyes looked empty.

Lance cried. He was confused.

He could not understand what happened. Had he known that this would happen, he would not have volunteered to fight in the first place.

Lance shakily got to his feet and poured all his strength to stand up. Before he could, though, Wesley Han kicked him once again and stepped on his face.

"Crap! Loser! I've fought a lot of better fighters. At least they lasted two or three rounds. But you? A silver medalist? Hahahaha! Weakling! You make me laugh. Is this the real martial arts you wanted to show me?" Wesley Han mocked as his laugh echoed through the stadium.