Evil Awe-Inspiring 146 Opportunity 1

In the evening, Silo takes me to the dining hall. I'm a little amused to hear.

This dining hall is actually a large warehouse transformed into a few rows of tables, chairs and stools. Each people's hand is carrying a plastic plate to the window one by one to take the food.

The food is good. I'm very satisfied. I see Papa 8 eating here too, but I don't see Uncle 7. Don't know where he goes.

Papa 8 is sitting at a round table with five or six people, all men of his age, about fifty years old. They're talking in a low voice while eating. Papa 8 has a serious expression and a somber look.

Everyone wear the garage overalls. When they are carrying plates across the Papa 8's table, they are unconsciously light-handing and dare not make a noice. I can see their respects to Papa 8 are sincere!

...

In this way, I've stayed here for two days and waited for two days, but Papa 8 never looked for me again.

I was a.s.signed to wash the car these two days. My job is to wash the vehicles with the buckets of water.

I work in the morning, finish work at 3 pm, and then go to the gym with Silo and others.

It can be said that when I first came here, I had a feeling of rea.s.surance. The atmosphere here is very good. It makes me feel like I have found the organization and home. But two days later, I'm a little depressed.

Because I don't come to Canada for wash the cars!

I don't know exactly what Papa 8 wants me to do. But at least I'm sure of my own idea. I've traveled thousands of miles across the Pacific Ocean, not just to be a car washer!

But in the afternoon when practice boxing with Silo and other guys, I am a little happier.

These rough men are very good people! Every day I work out with them, occasionally fight once or twice with the glove and headgear, sweat all over, and then a dozen men take a bath naked. It's also a kind of pleasant feeling.

Silo asked me how to punch that that day. After I hesitated, I told him that my punch was a masterstroke taught by my master and could not be taught to others at ease. It's not that I'm stingy, but that I can't break Master's rules.

Silo was a bit disappointed, but it didn't last long. I can't teach him that punch, but I can teach him some conventional boxing. This kid is very athletic, born good on flexibility and coordination, and willing to endure hards.h.i.+ps. Even when I taught him the pace at the beginning, he just started to cry a few bitter words, and then he gritted his teeth and insisted on it!

The other men looked at us, and some of the younger ones laughed wildly. Some older people didn't laugh. I can see that these people have vision, and they knew that I had taught Silo the real kungfu skill.

After a week of being so heartless, Papa 8 still hasn't come to find me.

These days, I can't even see him. He doesn't come to the dining hall to eat dinner anymore. I even wondered if he has forgotten me. I take everyday's work as vent, and boxing as vent! When I'm practicing boxing with those guys, I'm getting more and more irritable.

"d.a.m.n!"

With one side kick, my legs sweeps past like a whirlwind. Although Silo has raised his arms to protect his chest, he's still swept to the ground by my foot. He can't help scolding, and then he lies on the ground and gasps for breath: "You're crazy! How come these two days are like taking gunpowder?"

I clench my teeth, throw away my gloves, go over and pull him up.

I feel like a fire is buried in my heart, which has been burning and burning wildly for two days. It makes me feel uncomfortable and almost mad.

I pull Silo in silence and shake my head to signal that we stop fighting. I don't think I'm in the right mood. If we keep fighting, I'm afraid I will hurt him.

After a week's recovery, I feel that my body has basically recovered completely. And I exercise every day this week. When I was at home, I had too many days of stability, and I haven't practiced diligently for a long time.

My face is gloomy, and I slowly walk to the corner. A buddy is beating a sandbag. I go to him and pat his shoulder, motioning him to give way. He glances back at me and immediately steps aside.

I've had a couple of fights with these guys this week. Apart from two or three old guys and Silo, who can fight me for more rounds, the rest can't basically hold on to two rounds. Now these people look at me differently than they did when I first arrived here.

I hold the sandbag to keep it stable from shaking, and then slowly step back. One step, two steps, three steps. I take a deep breath and make two preparations in situ. At this time, everyone around can see I might have some actions. Some people stop practicing and look at me.

I take a few deep breaths, burst out a shout, and then rus.h.i.+ng towards the sandbag. About two or three steps away, my left foot is kicking on the ground violently!

I bounce up from the ground, twiste my waist in mid-air, raise my right leg and kick sideways!

A m.u.f.fled sound spreads all over the gym almost immediately, and then the sandbag is shaking violently and flying out!

The rope hanging the sandbag has been broken down. The sandbag hits the corner heavily. The whole outer leather burst and the gravel inside spill all over the floor.

"Fx.x.x!" The first sound is from Silo, and then the whole audiences are breathing in. I hear someone is whispering, "d.a.m.n, is this kid still human? My G.o.d! He's Bruce Lee's reincarnation!"

Others laugh and scold, "Fool, this is the real kungfu!"

After Silo shouted, he looks at me in amazement, and watching me stand there panting, with the muscles on my face beating.

At this time, the leader, that is, the oldest middle-aged man, comes over, pats Silo on the back, and then says: "Little 5 are not in the right mood these two days. You just don't practice with him, not to hurt yourself."

After taking a bath, Silo and I have dinner and go back to our room. Silo suddenly remembers something and exclaims, "Hey, there's a battle report tonight! Just take a look!"

"What battle report?" I'm stunned.

Silo shakes his head.'Didn't you hear what they were talking about at dinner at night? We had a fight with the Vietnamese!"

I shake my head. When I was eating, I was still in depressed. Where else was the mood to listen to their chat?"

Silo has turned on the old TV set, and then he turns a channel. We just see an Asian woman announcer is broadcasting news.

Silo watches the TV intently, and then he cries excitedly, "Here we are!"

"...News from this TV station..." The female broadcaster reports in a serious tone: "In the early hours of this morning, there was a vicious shooting and murder at a gas station in East Hestin, our city! Two Asian men were suddenly shot by unidentified pistols while parking. They were shot several times!"

"According to witness accounts of supermarket staff at the gas station, two victims were parking to refuel, and the gunmen appeared from both sides at the same time, without any conversation between the two sides, immediately fired several shots at the victim with pistols, and then drove the victim's car to flee the scene quickly! In addition, according to the latest news, two victims have died on the way to hospital for rescue. The ident.i.ty of the victims has been checked and they have been confirmed that they do not have any legal ident.i.ty. The police suspect that the two are Vietnamese smugglers. At present, the police have expressed suspicion that the shooting case is related to gangster hatred killing..."