Suddenly, Jack Linton accelerated into a sprint. When he was two steps away from the Muay Thai man, he raised the stick high above his head with both hands and swung it down in a wide arc.

It was unexpected and very fast, but the Muay Thai man was even faster.

Almost as soon as the stick came down, the Muay Thai man advanced instead of retreating, stepping forward to Jack Linton and landing an uppercut to his abdomen.

With a dull thud, Jack Linton took two steps back, rubbed his stomach, and felt... it was just so-so.

The speed was fast, and the force was strong, but it was still a bit short of breaking through the Iron Shirt defense.

Originally, Jack Linton saw that the opponent neither carried any metal weapons nor had a gun hidden in his crotch, so he wanted to test whether he could withstand the attack with his Iron Shirt.

If he could take it, great; if not, he’d just spend 200 points of wealth to upgrade to "Intermediate" and keep taking hits.

Now it seemed he had underestimated the defense of the "Beginner" level Iron Shirt.

The Muay Thai man was slightly stunned, then let out a strange cry and charged forward. Fists, legs, elbows, knees—his limbs attacked like a storm, pouring down like arrows.

The force of his punches was explosive!

Fierce and ruthless!

A barrage of attacks rained down, forcing Jack Linton to retreat step by step until his whole body was pressed against the alley wall, unable to move.

After seven or eight seconds, the Muay Thai man stepped on Jack Linton's knee and leapt up, driving his knee hard into his face, then flipped in the air, retracted his leg, and landed cleanly and neatly.

If he wasn’t a bit out of breath, it would have been perfect.

As this seamless wave of attacks ended, David Carter barely made it to the mouth of the alley. The Muay Thai man sneered coldly, his timing flawless—there was still time to give chase.

“Ahem!”

“???”

A light cough sounded from behind. The Muay Thai man turned around in surprise, only to be met with Jack Linton picking up the fallen wooden stick and giving him a solid whack on the head.

Crack!

The stick broke in two. The Muay Thai man clutched his head and staggered back three steps, the shock in his eyes growing even stronger.

“%…#~%…#+*……”

“Stop talking, there’s a language barrier, I don’t understand you. If you want to fight, hurry up and let’s finish this—I still need to eat.”

Jack Linton beckoned to the Muay Thai man, signaling him to get on with round two.

The Muay Thai man gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and charged forward, shouting and grunting in sync with his punches and kicks.

Maybe it was to intimidate him!

“Hah! Haya—”

Round three!

“Yaya—”

Round four!

“Ha... ha... ha...”

He didn’t even make it to round five before the Muay Thai man, exhausted, had to support himself on his knees, panting like a dog.

“That’s it? You’re already spent...”

Jack Linton walked forward dragging a stick, a smile at the corner of his eye, looking completely at ease.

Chapter 9: Pure Passerby

“Hurry up, faster, or Jack Brooks is going to get beaten to death!”

“What’s going on? Who did you run into? Why are you being attacked?”

“No time to explain, it’s just up ahead in that alley...”

On the street, David Carter and Steven Clark were running at full speed, with Emily Harris quickly chasing after them not far behind.

When David Carter got home, he happened to catch Steven Clark just after his failed confession. Without a word, he dragged Steven Clark out the door.

When Emily Harris heard her best friend was being beaten up, she was furious and followed after them.

Bang bang pop! Crack! Crash—

Crack!

As they neared the alley, Steven Clark heard the sounds of a fierce beating. His face changed instantly—at this rate, even if he didn’t die, he’d be crippled.

He’d spent many days with Jack Linton, bickering almost every day. Though he rarely won, their friendship as “frenemies” had truly developed.

Besides, even if they weren’t friends, as a police officer, he couldn’t let evil trample on the law and on life.

“Jack Brooks, I’m here to save... save...”

Steven Clark rushed to the alley entrance, saw what was inside, and nearly stumbled and fell.

The staggering David Carter was leaning against the wall at the alley entrance, his face instantly blank. Seeing Steven Clark's grim expression, he instinctively started to tremble: “It’s not my fault, I just heard about it from someone else.”

At the mouth of the alley, Jack Linton was wielding a stick, switching hands with the skill of a martial artist. Three sticks were already broken at his feet.

In front of him, the Muay Thai man was cowering in the corner with his hands over his head. Every time the stick landed on him, he let out a whimper like a defeated dog, looking so pitiful it would make anyone sad and bring tears to their eyes.

“Brother Jack, that’s enough, give me some face and stop hitting him.”

Steven Clark strolled forward, studying his un-manicured nails under the not-so-bright streetlight.

“Yeah, it’s just a small matter, don’t get so worked up, sir.”

David Carter leaned against the wall and came closer. Seeing that Jack Linton's stick had broken again, he kindly handed him another one.

“Don’t stop me! I’m telling you, don’t blame me for not giving face today—no one can stop me, not even if you try... don’t stop me!”

Jack Linton took the stick and started whacking again. The Muay Thai man’s body was something else—three sticks had already broken, and he still hadn’t gone down.

“Brother Jack, young people make mistakes, it’s only natural. You’re the bigger person, give him a chance!”

“Yeah, calm down. His life isn’t worth much, but it’s not worth hurting yourself over.”

“Brother Jack, if you’re still not satisfied, let me take over. Don’t tire yourself out.”