thefictionvixens Chapter 118 Missing
Chapter 118 Missing
Chapter 118 Missing
Under the blazing sun, distorted waves of heat rose from the cement floor of the abandoned cannery.
Everyone stared excitedly at the two people in the center of the arena, ready to enjoy the upcoming duel.
Before the fight began, Qin Han opened the trunk of the car and took out a heavy tool bag.
"Whoosh." He unzipped his pants, pulled out several pairs of black leather boxing gloves, and tossed one to Bruno across from him.
The veteran took the boxing gloves, looking somewhat curious: they weren't the heavy boxing gloves he usually wore, nor were they the kind of hand wraps meant to protect the knuckles.
It is very light, with a hollowed-out palm that allows the five fingers to extend and move freely. Only the knuckles are covered with a layer of high-density shock-absorbing sponge, while the wrist has a widened Velcro strap.
"Split-finger boxing gloves?" Bruno, a veteran, understood the design intent of the glove after a little touch: "Interesting. It retains protection during strikes without affecting grappling and gripping."
Qin Han slowly put on his boxing gloves, making a "sizzling" sound as he tightened the Velcro straps on his wrists.
"These gloves were specially designed by my master for the filming of 'Enter the Dragon'." He flexed his fingers. "In a traditional boxing ring, gloves are for protecting the opponent and also for limiting the amount of damage they can inflict."
"But in real street fights, or in the life-or-death situations we face, this thing is the best partner."
Years later, this equipment, which originated from Bruce Lee's philosophy, gave birth to the famous UFC, pushing mixed martial arts into the global mainstream. Bruce Lee was thus revered as the "Father of MMA".
But at this moment, for Qin Han, it was merely a handy tool that allowed him to better demonstrate what "killing skills" meant.
"Starting today, all combat training will be conducted using this equipment."
Qin Han tightened his gloves and smiled at Bruno: "Sergeant, let's use these boxing gloves to have a chat. The rule is simple—there are no rules."
"No rules?" Bruno spat his chewing gum on the ground, a sinister smile spreading across his face. "Boss Qin, are you sure? The techniques you learn in the army are all deadly. If you lose control and end up disfiguring your face, I won't be able to explain it to Samuel."
"That depends on whether you have the ability." Qin Han assumed a starting stance, with his right hand in front and his left hand behind, his legs slightly bent, his body swaying slightly like a cobra ready to hunt its prey.
"Fine!" Bruno snorted coldly, his body sinking instantly, and the aura he exuded was nothing like that of an old man over fifty.
He was like a heavy tank, charging straight in without any fancy probing.
"Bang!" Bruno's low sweeping kick, like an iron whip, kicked up dust and went straight for Qin Han's outside knee.
Qin Han reacted incredibly quickly; instead of retreating, he raised his knee to block.
"Crack!" The two calves collided violently in mid-air, producing a muffled sound.
Qin Han remained motionless, while Bruno felt as if he had kicked a steel pillar, his calf throbbing slightly.
"You've got something!" The veteran's contempt vanished instantly. Using the recoil, he lunged forward, delivering a standard military straight punch straight at Qin Han's face, only to be deflected by Qin Han's side block.
Then came a dazzling combination of punches.
It's not the kind of competitive boxing technique used in the boxing ring, but a deadly move that combines Israeli Krav Maga and Marine Corps combat techniques, with each punch aimed at vital points such as the throat, temple, and chin.
Qin Han no longer resisted head-on; his footwork became as agile as if he were dancing: sliding, dodging, and swinging his arms.
He narrowly avoided Bruno's powerful punch; the wind from the punch grazed his hair, and one could even hear the whistling sound of the air being torn apart.
"Hide? Let's see how long you can hide!"
Bruno, frustrated by his inability to break through Bruno's defenses, suddenly changed tactics.
He stopped focusing on striking and instead lunged forward, spreading his arms wide, using his weight advantage to try and throw Qin Han to the ground.
Once the fight transitions to ground combat, the size difference will be decisive.
"Master, be careful!" Zhou Ruofei couldn't help but shout.
Just as Bruno was about to close his arms, Qin Han's expression changed.
He didn't back down; instead, he rushed into Bruno's arms!
The instant their bodies made contact, Qin Han's right hand, like a venomous snake, used the convenience of the split-finger glove to instantly grab Bruno's forearm, which he was trying to hug.
catch!
At the same time, his left hand formed a thumbs-up gesture and shot towards Bruno's eyes like lightning.
Bruno was terrified and instinctively tried to lean back to avoid it, but Qin Han held one of his hands tightly, disrupting his balance.
"Swoosh—" Qin Han's finger stopped abruptly less than a centimeter from Bruno's eyeball, the strong wind from his finger causing Bruno's eyelids to tremble involuntarily.
But it's not over yet.
The instant he stopped, Qin Han slid down, his body sliding like an eel to Bruno's side and behind.
He hooked his right foot around Bruno's ankle, pressed his left hand against the back of Bruno's head, and pushed down hard.
"Thump!"
Even someone as strong as Bruno, with his balance lost and his vision obstructed, was forced to kneel on one knee by this skillful force.
Before he could even struggle to his feet, a cold sensation was already pressed against his throat.
Qin Han stood behind him, one arm tightly locking his Adam's apple, the other hand gripping his wrist, forming a perfect guillotine strangulation.
With just a little force, Bruno's cervical spine would be snapped.
The whole process happened in the blink of an eye, from Bruno launching the takedown to him being choked to the ground, it took no more than three seconds.
Everyone watching, whether veterans or young people, was stunned.
The veterans, in particular, were all gaping in astonishment, not even noticing their cigarettes had fallen to the ground.
They saw it most clearly: if Qin Han's eye-gouging strike had landed, Bruno would be blind now; and if that chokehold had been applied—
Qin Han slowly loosened his arms, took two steps back to create distance, gently patted the dust off his sleeves, bowed to Bruno, and then withdrew from his fighting stance.
"Cough cough—cough cough cough!" Bruno covered his throat and coughed violently, his scarred face turning a liverish color.
He propped himself up on his knees and looked at the young man in front of him with a complicated expression.
Anger? Shame? No, it was more of a shock of surviving a catastrophe.
"Eye gouging, groin kick, chokehold." Qin Han calmly repeated the moves he had just used: "Sergeant Major, do you think these are just for show?"
"The core of Jeet Kune Do is not for performance, but to render the opponent incapable of resistance in the shortest possible time." He raised his right hand, which was wearing a split-finger glove, and clenched it tightly: "These gloves are to make these movements more fluid."
Bruno finally recovered, wiped the cold sweat from his face, and looked at Qin Han with a completely different expression.
In the military, the strong are respected.
"I lost." He was a bachelor, so losing was losing, and there were no excuses.
He straightened up, put his heels together, and saluted: "Boss Qin, that move you just made—it was indeed a killing technique. If this were on the battlefield, I would have died twice already."
He then turned around and yelled at the few old guys who were still in a daze, "See that? This is our boss! Even Samuel in his youth might not have been as good as him."
Then, looking at the group of dumbfounded Chinatown youths, a sinister smile appeared on his face: "This is what you're going to learn next! If you don't want to wet your pants when facing the Japanese, you'd better watch out!"
Qin Han took off his gloves, walked up to Bruno, extended his hand, and the two shook hands firmly.
"I'm leaving this to you, Bruno." Qin Han looked around, his voice rising a few decibels, clearly reaching everyone's ears: "I must tell you, our enemies are a group of brainwashed lunatics."
"They don't listen to rules, they don't talk about martial ethics. They have guns and knives, and all they think about is how to kill us."
"Therefore, I need you to be the survivors! Learn well from the instructors; these are your keys to survival!"
"Is it possible?"
"Yes!" Zhou Ruofei was the first to shout, and then the voices of the thirty young people merged into a torrent, echoing in the empty factory.
That battle just now completely won over these unruly young people.
In their eyes, their master was not only Bruce Lee's disciple who beat up Japanese karate masters, but also someone who could utterly crush an American military instructor!
This sense of admiration is more direct and effective than any other form of motivation.
"Very good." Qin Han nodded in satisfaction. "Everyone, begin training immediately. The equipment will arrive within two days. Until then, make sure your physical fitness and basic combat skills are solid!"
When we left the cannery, the sun was already setting.
Looking at the bustling training ground in the rearview mirror, Qin Han felt a little more at ease.
Once this team is formed, coupled with US military equipment and Jeet Kune Do close-quarters combat techniques, they will definitely be a force to be reckoned with in a city like Los Angeles.
Back at the hotel, as he passed the front desk, the receptionist called out to him, "Mr. Qin, there is an urgent telegram for you."
She took a yellow envelope from the safe and handed it to her with both hands: "It just arrived half an hour ago, and it was sent from Washington."
Bill is back from Vietnam?
Qin Han took the envelope and, without lingering in the lobby, quickly returned to his room.
He walked to the desk in front of the French windows, picked up a paper cutter, and carefully cut open the seal.
Unfolding the telegram, it contained only a few lines: [Target S has been captured. CIA involved, chain of evidence complete. S has confessed and has been transferred to a military court for secret detention.]
Upon seeing this, Qin Han's tense nerves relaxed slightly.
S refers to Sato, the military attaché at the Japanese consulate in Los Angeles.
Bill acted swiftly, secretly apprehending a person with diplomatic immunity within days.
This suggests that Sato not only participated in the assassination but was also likely involved in deeper espionage activities, crossing the red line of the US military. Otherwise, the CIA and the military would have had to think twice before taking such drastic measures.
However, when Qin Han's gaze shifted downwards and he saw the next paragraph of the telegram, his heart, which had just settled, instantly jumped again.
Just before the target was captured, S issued an emergency evacuation signal. The team codenamed "Ghost" had severed all communication and was in a state of silence.
We checked all the pre-designated safe houses; they were all empty. They've disappeared. —B
Disconnect? Enter silent mode?
This is the worst-case scenario for both myself and my master!
Without an online presence or backup, they had completely lost control and infiltrated the steel jungle of Los Angeles, a city of millions.
What crazy things will a heavily armed suicide squad, cornered and out of command, do here?
They might lie in wait like venomous snakes, for a week, a month, or even a year, just to wait for an opportunity to perish together.
"Damn it—"
Qin Han cursed under his breath, crumpled the telegram into a ball, threw it into the ashtray next to the table, and took out a lighter to light it.
As he watched the flames devour the paper and turn it to ashes, his mind raced.
The situation has become even more dangerous. Is there any way to lure this group of Japanese out?