Neurolink System in the Modern World

"You think you're hot shit out there in the streets? You're just a bunch of punks! A gang is not a playground for you to have fun. It's a brotherhood, a family. You live and die for the gang. You think you've got what it takes to be a part of us? You'll need to prove yourselves."

He walked left and right the room, his eyes scanning each one of us as if assessing our worthiness.

"You're here to prove your loyalty, your strength, and your commitment. If you're not willing to bleed for this gang, then you can walk out that door right now."

"Are you sure you want to join this gang?" he asked, his eyes drilling into each of us. One by one, we answered with a resounding "Yes!" It was almost like we were in the army, pledging our loyalty to a cause that was, in reality, quite dubious.

"Then take this ," Without warning, the bald man suddenly raised his fist and sucker-punched the guy who had answered "Yes!" last. *SUCKER PUNCH

The unexpected blow sent the poor recruit sprawling to the ground, clutching his face in pain. It was as if the bald man had just given him a brutal initiation test. I couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Did you just laugh ?" The bald man gazed locked on me.

I couldn't help but curse inwardly at my blunder. "No, sir," I replied, trying to mimic the tone of a disciplined cadet.

[Suggestion : Success ]

"Alright," the bald man said, ignoring my blunder. It seemed that my response had defused the situation, and I was relieved that my skill had worked in my favor. "Now, all of you are going to be divided into three groups," the bald man announced. He pointed to the unconscious guy who had taken the sucker punch. "This guy here," he sneered in contempt, "can't be a fighter at all." I tried to suppress a chuckle as I watched the scene unfold. While I felt bad for the poor sucker-punched guy, I couldn't help but find the bald man's bluntness oddly entertaining.

"Runners are the ones who'll be responsible for delivering messages, collecting debts, and handling deliveries. They need to be swift, stealthy, and smart," he continued, his eyes scanning the room for potential candidates.

"Lackeys will do the dirty work. Cleaning up after the rest, providing backup during... shall we say, disputes? Basically, anything that needs doing, lackeys will be on it."

He then turned his gaze to a few bigger guys in the room. "And Fighters, well, you know what you'll be doing. You'll be the muscle, dealing with anyone who challenges us or tries to mess with our operations."

"Now, who wants to be a fighter?" the bald man asked. Without hesitation, a tall man with red hair and a mask walked to the center. He stood at least 6 feet tall with lean, muscular build. "Good, you can only become a fighter if you prove yourself. Now, anyone else who wants to be a fighter needs to fight this guy," he declared, gesturing to the tall redhead. (That guy is Gong Changmin, the legendary fighter of Goyang Technical High School.)

(Yeah, I heard he unite the whole Goyang with his fist.)

(I heard he once scared off a pack of wild dogs with a single stare.)

The room buzzed with exaggerated stories, as if Gong Changmin were a protagonist straight out of manwa .

Everyone became apprehensive it looks like none of them want to fight him. As for me , I decided not too stand out so much. I'm not going to fight that guy just for the sake of flexing.

That's exactly what I was thinking when my system finally broke its days-long silence. Ding! [Mission: Beat Gong Changmin without of Active Skills] [Reward: 2000 XP]

The notification felt like a train hitting me. 2000 XP was a big reward, and it meant I could finally level up.

But not using Active skills might be dangerous for me. So, I calmed myself down and waited, hoping someone else would step up to fight him first and wear him down. Unfortunately, no one volunteered, so I was forced to raise my hand. "I will fight him," I spoke, hoping that my passive skills would be enough. As soon as I volunteered, the murmurs in the room grew louder. People were clearly surprised that I had stepped forward to face him, especially since I didn't look like a typical tough guy.

Gong Changmin, on the other hand, remained eerily calm and unresponsive, as if he didn't feel threatened in the slightest. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

*SNAP

For some reason, his arrogance began to irritate me, and an overwhelming urge to beat the shit out of him welled up within me. 'You're dead motherfucker,' I thought to myself, cursing inwardly at how he was underestimating me.

We both took our stances, and before I could even blink, Gong Changmin lunged at me with lightning speed. His fist aimed directly at my face.

*SWOOSH!

I barely managed to dodge his left hook in time, but his follow-up right kick nearly caught me off guard. *DODGE

But thanks to my agile footwork, I quickly backed away, maintaining a safe distance. As he closed in, I unleashed a quick 1-2-3 combo, aiming to disrupt his rhythm and keep him on the defensive. During our continues exchange, it was clear that he had the advantage in terms of physical strength, surpassing even the national champion I had previously pummeled . Nonetheless, my ability to quickly grasp and adapt to his fighting style proved invaluable.

As time went on, I became more familiar with his techniques. This heightened awareness allowed me to anticipate his strikes with precision and counter them effectively.

I noticed a subtle pattern in his attacks, a rhythm that I could exploit. With precise timing, I weaved through his barrage of punches, ducking under a sweeping kick and landing a swift body blow.

*PUNCH!

His guard wavered, and I seized the opportunity to launch a powerful hook to his exposed side.

*PUNCH!

The impact landed with a satisfying thud, causing this bastard to grimace and momentarily stagger.

'An opening!'