The crowd began to calm down, and LaoShu took the floor once more.
“How about that quick piece of handiwork?” LaoShu announced. “Or should I say, legwork? Ha ha! I guess big things really do come in small packages! If you enjoyed that matchup, wait until you see what we have in store for you now. This next competitor is not a criminal, but a promising up-and-comer who is fighting for a position within our esteemed Emperor's ranks. He is undefeated in the pit with a record of six wins and no losses, and tonight he is the favorite. This man is known for his fast hands and even faster feet. Always on the move and constantly on the attack, he's been known to skitter across the pit bricks like a drop of rainwater on a hot wok. Don't blink! You might miss the whole thing! Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the Kung Fu Crippler!”
Hok stared at the open pit doorway and saw a small, wiry man coming out from the depths of the tunnel. He raced round and round the pit in a tight circle, never slowing. His black hair was also cut very short, and he had a large bald spot on the top of his head. Sweat poured out of it like a fountain. The Kung Fu Crippler leaped to the very center of the pit floor and began a random combination of push-ups, squat thrusts, and shadowboxing punches.
The crowd went wild.
“What is he doing?” Charles asked.
“Wasting a lot of energy,” Hok replied.
Seh smirked. “I don't even have to see him to know that that man is a fool. Do you know who he is fighting?”
“No,” Charles said. “I didn't get to see the list.”
“Let's hope it's Fu,” Seh said.
“Why?” Charles asked.
“You'll see,” Seh replied.
The crowd quieted down, and LaoShu spoke again. “I'd like to present to you now the challenger. He's a sizable chunk of fresh meat that we're going to serve up raw for the Kung Fu Crippler! He may be young, but my sources tell me he's tough. You all know the rules. The last one standing wins! Guards, bring in the prisoner!”
Hok stared into the tunnel and saw the two armed guards disappear into the darkness. A few moments later, they reappeared, prodding the challenger with their qiangs.
The crowd unleashed a series of boos and catcalls for the challenger, but they abruptly stopped once he came into full view. It was obvious that the crowd didn't know what to make of the man-child who stepped into the pit, snarling like a ferocious beast. Even the Kung Fu Crippler stopped and stared.
The challenger locked eyes with the Crippler and slowly began to stalk him.
“It's Fu, isn't it?” Seh asked.
“Yes,” Hok replied. “I feel sorry for Mr. Crippler.”
Hok watched as Fu stalked the Kung Fu Crippler near the center of the fight club pit. The Crippler began to jump around again, shadowboxing furiously to the delight of the crowd.
Hok rolled her eyes and looked over toward the bettors’ table. A mob of people were wagering at a frenzied pace.
LaoShu cleared his throat and made an announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen, it seems there's been a huge interest in people betting on the Kung Fu Crippler now that we've seen his opponent. I will wait a few more moments before sounding the gong. Get those wagers in!”
Hok glanced down into the pit and saw that Fu was now standing still as a statue while the Crippler continued his antics.
“Uh-oh, Seh,” Hok said with a grin. “Fu is locking in on his target.”
Seh chuckled.
“What's going on?” Charles asked. “Why do you two keep laughing?”
“Fu is going to eat the Crippler for dinner,” Seh replied.
Charles eyes widened. “Really?”
“He's not literally going to eat him,” Hok said. “Though it probably appears that way. Growing up, we had an instructor who looked and acted just like the Kung Fu Crippler. He even had a similar bald spot. We called him the Mosquito because he was small and always buzzing around. He never stood still. He taught hand boxing and believed the best way to fight was to constantly be moving. He said it made you a more difficult target. However, larger people like Fu often believe that moving all the time does nothing but waste energy. Fu hated sparring with that instructor. The instructor used to pick on Fu, buzzing around him and jabbing him with short punches, trying to get Fu to learn how to fight someone like him. Unfortunately for the instructor, Fu's training eventually paid off.”
“What did he do?” Charles asked.
“Fu was only ten years old at the time,” Seh replied, “but he managed to land a hard right hand to the instructor's jaw. The instructor didn't wake up for a week.”
“That would have been something to see,” Charles said.