“I’m not familiar with Sith, but I know more about Rwanda or Somalia. Do you want to sneak over there?” Bryan Taylor asked.

Jason Carter shook his head.

“Or you could go to ROK for gender reassignment surgery. If you became a woman, you probably wouldn’t look absolutely terrifying—just somewhat terrifying at most,” Bryan Taylor said.

Seeing Jason Carter grit his teeth and clench his fists, Bryan Taylor sighed, “Yeah, it’s rough, but it’s still better than having your balls crushed and your dick broken. Life would be unmanageable then, right? Besides, the male-to-female ratio is pretty crazy these days. It’s hard for men to find wives, but even the ugliest women can get married. Personal problems are easier to solve, don’t you think?”

“Do you know anyone skilled in martial arts, or maybe someone good at free fighting? Basically, anyone who’s great at fighting will do,” Jason Carter said. “They have to be a real expert.”

“What are you planning?” Bryan Taylor asked.

“I want to become an apprentice and learn from them,” Jason Carter said.

“And then?” Bryan Taylor asked weakly.

“I’ll study hard, endure hardship, tie my hair to the beam and jab my thigh to stay awake, rise at dawn to practice, and after five days of training, I’ll graduate and duel with Linghu Shou,” Jason Carter said seriously.

Bryan Taylor immediately fainted and collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

※※※

“This is the expert,” Bryan Taylor said, pointing at the man in front of them.

At this moment, Jason Carter and Bryan Taylor were in the inner room of a martial arts school. The walls were covered with calligraphy and paintings, most depicting martial artists. The whole room was simple yet sophisticated, artistic yet exuding martial strength.

They all sat cross-legged on the floor. The man before them was in his fifties, his eyes sharp and piercing, temples bulging, joints thick, muscles dark red and shiny. He had a handsome face, a hooked nose, and a scar across his face that made him look cold and fierce, yet he radiated righteousness. His presence was so imposing that no one dared look him in the eye.

“May I ask your honorable name, Master?” Jason Carter asked respectfully.

“My name is Gaoshou,” the middle-aged man replied.

“I know you’re an expert, but I was asking for your name,” Jason Carter said.

“My surname is Gao, given name Shou,” the man replied coldly.

“Uh!” Jason Carter.

“How long do you plan to study?” Gaoshou asked.

“Maybe as long as two months, as short as five days,” Jason Carter said nervously. After all, the school was a business, and only studying for five days was basically just causing trouble. They might even kick him out.

“Hmm, your limbs are long but you look weak. You’re not suited for hard, aggressive styles. You should learn Wing Chun,” Gaoshou said.

His tone left no room for argument.

“Lillian Grant, come in,” Gaoshou suddenly called out.

The door opened, and someone walked in. Jason Carter and Bryan Taylor were instantly stunned.

It was a woman. And not just any woman, but an extremely beautiful one. Not the ordinary kind of beauty, but a uniquely alluring kind.

Her eyes were slender, her nose slightly hooked yet high and straight. Her lips were full and sexy. She had a long face and honey-colored skin.

She was a woman whose beauty couldn’t be described as merely pretty. She was beautiful, but even more captivating, with a strange, enchanting charm. Especially those full lips—truly, incredibly sexy.

She wore a tight black leather outfit, an athletic suit.

She was about 175 centimeters tall, with a fit, athletic figure. Her curves were striking, her chest full. Her waist was slender and strong. Her butt was the roundest and most perky Jason Carter had ever seen on a woman—round and lifted. Her legs were long, straight, full, and powerful.

“From today on, he’ll be learning Wing Chun from you,” Gaoshou said to Lillian Grant, pointing at Jason Carter.

Lillian Grant frowned, clearly displeased, obviously unimpressed by Jason Carter’s frail appearance. But she still nodded and said, “Yes, Father.”

“Learning from me is painful—extremely painful. Torn tendons, bone fractures, mild concussions, all of that is routine. Are you still willing to learn?” Lillian Grant’s voice was magnetic, not shrill.

“I want to learn,” Jason Carter nodded.

Bryan Taylor stared blankly at Lillian Grant’s explosive figure, then suddenly said, “I want to learn too.”

“If you whine, slack off, or your practice doesn’t meet my standards, I’ll kick you out immediately, and you won’t get a single cent back,” Lillian Grant said coldly, her expression showing undisguised contempt and annoyance toward Jason Carter.

She valued true martial artists, not those with only a fleeting interest or who came out of mere curiosity and weakness.

And in her eyes, Jason Carter was undoubtedly that kind of person, which explained her obvious dislike.

“All right, after you pay at the finance office, come find me on the third floor.” With that, Lillian Grant turned and left.

Bryan Taylor stared at her curvy, explosive figure as she walked away, swallowing hard several times, even unable to resist wanting to measure the width and height of her round, plump butt with his hands.

“Oh my god, I wish I could drown in her huge, firm breasts,” Bryan Taylor sighed in a low voice.

“The fee is 5,000 yuan per month,” reminded a girl in a uniform suit nearby.

“Wow~! That’s expensive, almost as much as my parents’ monthly salary,” Jason Carter thought in shock.