Chapter 70: Kyokushin Karate

"What do you mean?" Masaki Tanaka jabbed a finger at Lu Feng, his Chinese halting and awkward.

"Oh, you speak Chinese after all? I thought you couldn't understand a word," Lu Feng replied, suddenly interested.

"I asked you—what do you mean? Are you looking down on me?" Masaki Tanaka barked.

"I've never met your mother, so I couldn't possibly look down or up," Lu Feng replied with a twisted turn of phrase.

Though Masaki Tanaka's Chinese was poor, he understood what Lu Feng meant and flew into a rage. "Idiot! Kyokushin Karate has spread to dojos in 120 countries since its founding in 1965, with over twelve million practitioners. It's the largest martial arts organization in the world. Do you think someone like you can look down on it?"

"Are you just showing off? Does having a lot of people make you strong?"

Bigmouth Owl saw the tension rising between Masaki Tanaka and Lu Feng, and let out a chilling laugh. "Mr. Masaki Tanaka, this is your opponent. Defeat him, and Mr. Ye will transfer the remaining half a million to your account."

"Hmph! Even without Mr. Ye's commission, today I will make this sick man of East Asia kneel and apologize to Kyokushin Karate!" Masaki Tanaka declared viciously.

"Fine, I'd like to see if you have what it takes!" Lu Feng’s temper flared. With a casual flick, he tossed his thin-bladed knife; it struck the wall with a dull thud.

Masaki Tanaka took up a Kyokushin Karate stance, then with a sudden roar, stepped forward and punched at Lu Feng’s chest.

Kyokushin Karate places greater emphasis on real combat than other styles, with intense training and the use of any body part as a weapon—elbows, knees—without weight classes, hence “full-contact karate.”

So Masaki Tanaka’s attacks were vicious, each strike aimed at vital points—meant to maim, if not kill.

Lu Feng sidestepped the punch, and Masaki Tanaka immediately chased with a vicious kick at his abdomen, forcing Lu Feng to leap back to avoid it.

Masaki Tanaka’s assault grew ever more ferocious, his joints cracking sharply as he kicked with brutal force.

Attack after attack was dodged by Lu Feng. Tanaka grew even more arrogant. "What, can you only dodge like a rat?"

The essence of Kyokushin is "technique within power," a style that seeks to defeat by force—favoring head-on clashes. Lu Feng’s light evasions only annoyed Tanaka further, making him believe Lu Feng was afraid to confront him directly.

"I'm dodging to give you a warm-up. Against someone like you, if I made a move, the match would end immediately, and then you'd just say it was a sneak attack," Lu Feng said, having already figured out his Japanese opponent’s methods and confident in his ability to counter them.

"Idiot! Sick man of East Asia! Do you dare take one of my punches?" Masaki Tanaka cursed, launching another ferocious punch.

"Watch closely!" Lu Feng shouted, gathering his inner strength and channeling it into his palm. He raised his left hand and, with a snap, caught Tanaka’s fist, pulling back to absorb the force, then drove his right elbow like a thunderbolt into Tanaka’s chest.

The movement was as swift as lightning—blocking the punch and striking with the elbow in an instant, like a dragon bursting from the depths. The blow landed full force on Tanaka’s chest.

A loud crack.

Tanaka’s breastbone shattered. He howled in agony, sent flying by the tremendous force, and crashed heavily to the ground, skidding far before coming to a stop.

Clutching his chest, he tried to sit up but could not, only managing to point at Lu Feng, gasping fragments of words: "You... you..."

"A sick man of East Asia? You're one to talk," Lu Feng replied coldly, turning his gaze to Bigmouth Owl.

Bigmouth Owl stared in shock at the Japanese man, now sprawled on the ground, unable even to crawl. He remembered how arrogant Tanaka had been at Kanglong Pharmaceuticals, nose in the air as if no one in the world could contend with him.

Kyokushin Karate’s reputation was indeed known, even having defeated Americans.

To some, anything foreign was good—but now, it had been utterly routed.

Seeing Lu Feng turn to look at him, Bigmouth Owl’s heart lurched. He spun, trying to flee.

"Where do you think you’re going? I told you, tonight, one of us isn’t walking out," Lu Feng called out.

Bigmouth Owl turned, his expression dark. "Why are you set against the Lianhong Society? What do you want?"

"For justice! You dared send men to hack me down—I have to settle the score, in public and in private." As Lu Feng spoke, he strode toward Bigmouth Owl, plucking the thin-bladed knife from the wall.

A venomous hatred flashed in Bigmouth Owl’s eyes, but he dared not act. He was increasingly convinced that Lu Feng’s strength was terrifying—first Mad Xi, then the Black Fist King, now even a Kyokushin master was no match.

"What do you want? We can talk," Bigmouth Owl said, lowering his stance to negotiate for his life.

"I want you dead." Lu Feng’s words were calm, but they carried a heavy scent of blood.

"Wait, we can work something out. If it's money you want, I can give you at least six figures. And I guarantee, the Lianhong Society will never trouble you again," Bigmouth Owl pleaded.

"I can earn my own money. Yours would only dirty my hands," Lu Feng sneered.

Seeing that even money couldn't sway Lu Feng, Bigmouth Owl realized there was no room for negotiation. He suddenly grabbed a flowerpot and hurled it at Lu Feng, turning to run.

Lu Feng dodged the pot, gripped the knife’s handle, and flung it forcefully.

A muffled thud, followed by a scream.

The blade buried itself in Bigmouth Owl’s left calf, sending him tumbling to the ground as he tried to run.

Lu Feng closed in, gripped the knife, and slowly pulled it free.

The agony of metal slicing flesh made Bigmouth Owl tremble and wail. Seeing the bloodied knife in Lu Feng’s hand—his own blood dripping from the blade—he was seized with terror.

Blood from the knife tip fell, drop by drop, onto his face. Bigmouth Owl begged desperately, "Whatever you want, it's yours! Take the hall—I'll be your subordinate. All five hundred brothers on Qingtang Street will follow your orders!"

"You tried to kill me. There’s only one way to settle this grudge—your death." Lu Feng pressed the knife’s edge against Bigmouth Owl’s throat.

"There must be another way! Tell me... anything you say, I’ll do it."

"There really isn’t," Lu Feng replied, shaking his head.

"There must be... there must be... I’ll turn myself in to the police, I’ll go to jail... yes, I’ll go to jail! Isn't that the fairest way?" Bigmouth Owl cried.

Lu Feng considered this. Back at the police station, facing Wang Zhengzhi, he’d asked why things couldn't be fairer.

"Fine. Go turn yourself in," Lu Feng said with a faint smile. "But I’ll help you make up your mind—otherwise, what if you change it later?"