"Hello, is this Mr. Brooks? I just rounded up a group of..." At this moment, Captain Collins waved his hand, signaling Charles Warren not to speak—he was on his cell phone.

"What! Those bastards—I gave them a sum of money and told them to behave themselves for a while, but who knew they'd cause trouble again and even end up on TV? Fine, fine, Captain Collins, I'll trouble you to lock them up for a year or so, so they won't cause me any more problems."

Ever since the area around Charles Warren's temples became slightly raised, the nerves in his ears could twitch, giving him exceptionally good hearing. Most of the muffled voice from the phone made its way into his ears.

Captain Collins hung up the phone, then turned to the police officers beside him and said, "Little Logan, Little William, lock all these people up in the little dark room and cuff them. We'll deal with it tomorrow."

After the interrogation was over, only Captain Collins was left in the room.

Charles Warren was eager to go home. "Uncle Captain, can I go home now?"

Captain Collins sized up Charles Warren for a while without saying a word, as if deep in thought. Gradually, his gaze fell on Charles Warren's temples, and he squinted at them for quite some time.

"Kid, you've got some skills. You fought so many thugs and didn't get hurt at all?"

Chapter 8: The Gap with a Master

Charles Warren had just relaxed, but when he heard Captain Collins's words, he was suddenly startled. His neck stiffened, his entire spine instantly tensed, his center of gravity dropped to his tailbone, and goosebumps rose all over his body.

Creak! Reacting to Charles Warren's body, the chair beneath him let out a series of squeaks.

Captain Collins was also surprised that a single sentence from him could provoke such a reaction from Charles Warren. He sensed that this high schooler in front of him now reacted like a startled wild beast, ready to pounce at the slightest disturbance.

"Such a quick reaction," he thought to himself, and Captain Collins became very curious about Charles Warren.

In fact, from the very beginning of the interrogation, Captain Collins had noticed that among the seven or eight thugs brought in, Bruce still had wounds on his face, and Brian was holding his crotch with both hands, his face deathly pale—clearly, they'd all been roughed up. But the high schooler in front of him had only a footprint on his abdomen, his complexion was rosy, and he was only slightly out of breath, clearly still full of energy.

One person fighting seven or eight and injuring two—if Captain Collins couldn't see what had happened, he might as well quit being a cop.

"Don't be nervous." Captain Collins slowly took out a pack of Furongwang cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. "I'm not interrogating you, just want to have a chat. Have you practiced martial arts?"

Charles Warren relaxed a bit, but thought to himself, "What is this guy up to? Could he have figured out that I was the one robbing, and those thugs were the victims?" At this thought, Charles Warren secretly pinched the wad of red bills he'd grabbed in his pocket.

Up to now, Charles Warren still hadn't dared to count exactly how much he'd taken, but by his estimate, it was probably one or two thousand.

That kind of money was already a big sum for Charles Warren. Even if he was charged with robbery, he was reluctant to hand it over.

"I see your hands have no calluses, and your knuckles aren't rough—clearly you haven't done much training. But judging by your reaction just now, your stamina is great. You must have practiced some basic internal martial arts, and not for long, otherwise you wouldn't have gotten kicked in the stomach."

Captain Collins spoke slowly as he smoked.

Charles Warren glanced at Captain Collins's hand as he lit the cigarette and noticed that when he gently made a fist, the bones were flat, with hardly any indentations, and the knuckles were covered with a layer of grayish-brown hard skin.

Looking at his own hand, when he made a fist, the knuckles stuck out high, and the indentations in the middle were obvious.

"Yeah, I've practiced a little. Not for long, just over two months." Charles Warren thought it was no big deal to admit it.

"Oh, so I've actually seen someone develop skills from internal martial arts! Looks like this kid really did get some genuine teaching." Captain Collins's eyes lit up, and he started calculating in his mind as he slowly stood up. "These days, nine out of ten internal martial arts are just for show. Could I have run into someone with real skills?"

"Who did you learn from?" Captain Collins asked casually.

Charles Warren immediately became alert again. "I can't reveal any information about Miss Turner." Thinking this, he made something up: "An old man I met while walking in the park. He only taught me a standing stance and two moves, then disappeared."

"Oh, I see." A trace of disappointment flashed in Captain Collins's eyes, but he smiled. "How about this—I'm a martial artist too. Since we're both practitioners, let me see how you've done."

"Want to spar?" Seeing Captain Collins's friendly demeanor, Charles Warren relaxed. Their conversation was starting to feel more comfortable.

"I'll stand still, and you try to hit me! Let me see your reaction, speed, and strength." Captain Collins stood in the middle of the room.

"Alright!" Charles Warren had actually been looking for someone to fight. Beating up a few thugs was exciting, but not enough to satisfy him. Now, with someone volunteering to spar, it was like someone offering him a pillow when he was sleepy.