A woman of considerable beauty. The very same one who had twice turned down invitations from the [Holy Martial Hall]. Her popularity within the club was in no way inferior to that of Old Man Fei.

On the contrary, thanks to her striking looks and fiery spirit, this individual, associated with Ban Chan Niu, even seemed to possess a subtle edge over Old Man Fei in terms of influence.

Qin Fen carried a load of four thousand jin. The elevator simply could not handle the strain, so the group had no choice but to climb the stairs, floor by floor, to the highest level of the fitness center.

Pushing open the door, Qin Fen’s eyes immediately lit up.

This room was far larger than any he had seen before, occupying nearly the entire floor space. The floor surface wasn't the stone slabs he was used to; instead, the entire area was covered in tatami mats.

Four thousand jin? Qin Fen’s lips twitched. If he set down his weight with one step, it would be like walking across fresh, undisturbed snow—leaving behind a clear trail of footprints, wouldn't it?

Manager Hua looked somewhat perplexed at Qin Fen, who stood at the doorway without removing his shoes or moving further in. He had completely forgotten that this young man, who had sprinted up the stairs with such ease, was still bearing an external weight of four thousand jin.

"A challenge."

A flicker of fighting spirit danced in Qin Fen's eyes. He slipped off his shoes and slowly placed one foot onto the tatami surface.

Scrrrich...

The tatami mat groaned. The spot where Qin Fen stood began to sink. A bead of cold sweat instantly traced a path down Manager Hua's forehead. This young master was still wearing the four-thousand-jin weighted suit! No wonder he had seemed so hesitant just moments ago. But...

Manager Hua cast a wary glance at the tatami mat under Qin Fen’s foot. Four thousand jin should have crushed the mat completely. Why did it only depress partially before stopping?

Qin Fen scratched his head and lifted his leg to take another step forward. The footprint from his initial standing position remained clearly imprinted on the mat.

Tatami was not stone. Every step Qin Fen took would leave a distinct mark. To move across this surface without leaving any trace at all? Qin Fen sighed and shook his head—unless he could fly!

Fly? Qin Qin's body paused almost imperceptibly. Who exactly was that person who had suddenly appeared that night at the recruit camp? The instructors had investigated so thoroughly, yet they couldn't find a single trace. Why was that silhouette so familiar? And why did that imposing aura carry a peculiar warmth?

"Mr. Qin, this way..." Manager Hua said cheerfully, stepping forward. The cost of tatami flooring was among the more easily absorbed 'consumables' in a fitness club. Even if Qin Fen ruined the entire floor, it wouldn't compare to the expense of that weighted lead suit.

"Certainly."

Qin Fen replied politely, his gaze fixed on the dozen or so small groups arranged in concentric circles not far ahead.

The number of people in these circles varied. The largest groups seated dozens of people together, while the smallest formations huddled around a dozen.

In the center of some circles, two martial artists were engaged in sparring. In others, three martial artists stood, one of whom wore clothing distinctly different from the majority—likely one of the head instructors, guiding the other two through techniques.

Yet other circles featured an instructor lecturing in the center, occasionally engaging two practitioners in tui shou (push hands). Some groups were meditating collectively.

The expansive room was permeated by a thick, potent scent of qi.

"Mr. Qin, while we are not a professional martial arts school or sect, our instructors possess considerable skill and vast experience," Manager Hua said with a smile, gesturing toward one area. "That gentleman wearing the modern Taekwondo uniform is quite well-known among the younger generation of practitioners here at the club."

Qin Fen looked at the man in the modern Taekwondo uniform with renewed interest. His stance was rock-solid, and even in seemingly simple hand and foot movements, a distinct power resonated.

Not bad! Truly not bad! Qin Fen nodded repeatedly. This Taekwondo martial artist, barely in his early twenties, had a solid foundation. His skill level was clearly much higher than Park Jong-Hwan from the new recruit camp. Modern Taekwondo indeed had its own unique merits; it wasn't all just self-praise from Hanju.

"Mr. Bae Sung-Jun, the founder of Hanju Modern Taekwondo, has ten direct disciples. This gentleman is the seventh disciple, Lee Yong-Jun," Manager Hua introduced, a hint of pride coloring his tone. Modern Taekwondo was established as its own distinct lineage of martial arts, and securing the seventh disciple of its master spoke volumes about the prestige of the Pegasus Fitness Club.

Qin Fen's eyes shone with greater admiration, and his chin moved in two more appreciative nods. No wonder his Modern Taekwondo looked so proficient; such pedigree demanded this level of mastery.

Snap...

Lee Yong-Jun executed a high kick that snapped like a whip in the air, drawing the attention of everyone in the hall. He stood perfectly still on the spot, his eyes scanning Qin Fen’s limbs with a look of blatant challenge.

Since Qin Fen first entered, Lee Yong-Jun had noticed he was personally escorted by Manager Hua—a level of deference even some senior instructors rarely received.

What he found most intolerable, however, were those few glances of acknowledgment Qin Fen had cast his way.

Appreciation is usually a positive thing! But when the observer is young, yet their gaze carries an air of superiority, a look akin to an elder bestowing favor upon a junior—the meaning transforms entirely!

Qin Fen had been ceaselessly engrossed in martial arts study, often guided by a mysterious master each night. While his actual time spent training meant his strength hadn't reached the absolute pinnacle of the martial world, his perception was sharper than many seasoned masters. His movements were subtly changing, and that aura of mastery, often unnoticed by others, was beginning to manifest from within him.

When this bearing was paired with an appreciative glance, it might be acceptable to someone with a peaceful disposition. But for someone inherently proud and arrogant, such behavior would be perceived as blatant provocation.

Qin Fen’s unconscious nods, his genuine internal praise, were interpreted by Lee Yong-Jun not as compliments, but as insult and mockery!

Lee Yong-Jun said nothing, yet the entire hall fell unnervingly silent. Everyone in every circle was watching Qin Fen with keen interest, and watching Lee Yong-Jun.

Among all the martial arts instructors at the Pegasus Fitness Club, Lee Yong-Jun, though lacking the tenure of Fei Wei or Wang Ying, had become notorious due to his inherent arrogance and somewhat volatile temper.

Since arriving here not long ago, he had sought out exchanges with nearly every instructor except Wang Ying. These so-called exchanges invariably involved establishing dominance through victory or defeat!

Within the same fitness club, the hierarchy among instructors naturally needed to be established! This disciple of the Hanju Martial God dared to challenge other instructors, proving his fists and feet were certainly hard enough. Aside from whether Wang Ying had challenged others, Lee Yong-Jun had once thrown Huber, known as the 'King of Grappling' in the club, to the ground.

At this moment, every member and instructor shared the same thought: A good show is about to start.

Modern Taekwondo? Qin Fen’s brow furrowed slightly. He had already witnessed this style of fighting from Park Jong-Hwan at the recruit camp. Although this man’s strikes were far more solid, Qin Fen detected nothing fundamentally new.

Qin Fen’s gaze drifted away, intentionally avoiding locking eyes with Lee Yong-Jun’s aggressive stare, and swept over the other people in the room.

Hmph!

In the hall, Lee Yong-Jun expelled a muffled snort through his nose. That passing glance wasn't merely dismissive; it contained a distinct element of contempt! Or perhaps, sheer disregard!

In the silence of the hall, Lee Yong-Jun’s fists clenched, the bones popping audibly. Since leaving his master to strike out on his own, no one besides that strange woman had dared to be so arrogant.

Manager Hua discreetly glanced at Qin Fen’s face—a face showing no indication that he intended to fight. He recalled the words of the big boss again and inwardly groaned. If possible, he truly did not want to offend this Lee Yong-Jun. Rumor had it that Lee had some connections with the military as well.

"Ahem..." Manager Hua’s expression darkened, and he let out a heavy cough. He inserted himself between Qin Fen and Lee Yong-Jun, saying, "Instructor Lee, your members are waiting for you to teach them techniques."

All the instructors froze momentarily, a faint expression of surprise crossing their faces. This was already a markedly biased act of protection.

The martial arts instructors held a significantly higher status than the equipment instructors at the club. Unless the situation was extraordinary, the manager would almost never find himself taking a stand against the instructors.

What was happening today? The instructors found it strange. For the sake of a young man who seemed to be a new member, the manager’s tone carried an implicit reprimand toward an instructor.

Lee Yong-Jun was even more stunned. Manager Hua, usually so cordial, had such a sharp tone today? Everyone's gaze fixed upon the haughty Instructor Lee, waiting to see his reaction.

Lee Yong-Jun swept his eyes over all the members gathered around the periphery. Those were gazes filled with expectation. If he backed down now, those looks would likely turn to contempt.

Achieving a spot in the top three among the members within three months of joining the fitness club was intrinsically tied to his reputation for being tough and willing to fight.

Most of the other instructors started smirking faintly. Lee Yong-Jun's position had been cemented by his fighting prowess. If he retreated this time, he would lose a significant number of members. If he defied the manager, however, he risked losing this very lucrative job.

A martial artist must eat. Some skilled fighters become police officers, some become bodyguards, and some even stray onto the path of crime. Few could resist the chance to train in such a comfortable environment while earning generous rewards.

Retreat? Or stand firm? Lee Yong-Jun’s eyes rapidly cycled through conflicting emotions. He knew that finding another job this generous would not be easy. Even for the Hanju Martial God, Bae Sung-Jun, finding such a well-paying position wasn't simple.

Suddenly! Lee Yong-Jun’s hesitation vanished. Two gazes as sharp as lethal swords fixed coldly upon Qin Fen. He spared Manager Hua another glance. His lips parted slightly: "Manager, my members want to see my real skills, and I suddenly feel the urge to experience... someone's fists and feet."

Manager Hua was dumbfounded. What day was this? Not only was Qin Fen, this young Lieutenant Colonel, performing one astonishing act after another, but even a usually compliant employee was daring to resist?

A cold sneer escaped Manager Hua, his expression turning even gloomier. Is everyone today determined to step all over me? When an old cat doesn't show its claws, do you think I'm a sick mouse?

"Instructor Lee, the club has regulations. Violating leadership instructions like this gives me the right to terminate our contract."

The cold words were saturated with implicit threats. The watching instructors showed faint smiles in their eyes. This nine-star martial artist, who had bullied his way into stealing members by relying on his tough fighting style, would face a grim outcome today, whether he chose to back down immediately or continue to resist.

"Manager Hua, there's no need to terminate the contract. I quit." Lee Yong-Jun plucked the instructor badge from his chest and tossed it onto the tatami. The metallic clink hitting the mat rang out sharply.

This sound, less powerful than a common firecracker, resonated deeply within the souls of many in the room. Qin Fen once again sent a glance of admiration toward Lee Yong-Jun. To remain unmoved by threats of money and maintain the inherent pride of a martial artist—this suggested the man might achieve something in martial arts in the future.

That faint appreciation, that gentle nod, felt like a steel blade driven deep into Lee Yong-Jun’s heart.

That annoying look again! Lee Yong-Jun clenched his fists and took a step forward. It was as if firecrackers were hidden beneath the tatami; the sound echoed long in the quiet hall.

Those paying close attention noticed that when Yong-Jun stepped down, the tatami beneath him seemed to turn as thin as tissue paper. It was clearly much more potent than the shallow imprints Qin Fen had left on his path.

Manager Hua quickly intervened again, stepping between the two men: "Instructor Lee, if you are no longer an instructor at this center, then you don't have the authority to remain here, do you?"

Lee Yong-Jun laughed, a look of utter disdain crossing his proud face: "Mr. Hua, you seem to have forgotten. I am not just an instructor here; I am also a member!"

Manager Hua stood as if struck by lightning, momentarily speechless, unsure how to respond.

The other instructors watched with eager anticipation; the show was finally beginning. Regardless of whether this kid won or lost today, he would have to thank Lee Yong-Jun afterward. After this incident, that arrogant Lee Yong-Jun certainly wouldn't be able to remain here.

Qin Fen surveyed the hall but did not see the self-created boxing style expert who had accompanied Manager Hua upstairs—the club's top-ranked instructor.

He refocused his gaze on Lee Yong-Jun: standing at 1.85 meters tall, broad shoulders, narrow waist, exceptionally long legs, single eyelid, and a high nose bridge—a man whose eyes were filled with hostility.

"You really want to fight?"

"Of course!"

"How will we fight?"

"Fight however you like!"

"..."

This simple exchange carried a weighty implication. "Fight however you like" could mean anything from a minor bout to a deadly encounter. Martial combat is inherently high-risk; breaking limbs is common, and even accidental death is not unheard of, after all, fists and feet have no eyes. If an opponent shows restraint, it is equivalent to gambling with one's own life.

"Fight however you like" often meant signing a life-and-death waiver.

Qin Fen casually slipped his hands into his pockets and swept his eyes across the surrounding martial artists and members. They immediately cleared a large, open space between the two opponents.