Morning sunlight cut across the rooftop as Minh struggled to hold horse stance again. His legs shook violently.The ghost didn't blink.
"Lower."
"I CAN'T go lower—!!"
"Then you will stay weak."
Minh gritted his teeth.Breath shook.Balance swayed.
THUD.
He collapsed.
The ghost sighed."Pathetic."
"Everyone's pathetic at the start!" Minh snapped.
The ghost raised a brow."I was not."
Minh screamed internally.
At school, the atmosphere was different.Not quiet.Not peaceful.
More like a pot on the verge of boiling.
Students whispered as Minh walked past.
"Heard the Lê Quý Đôn boys got wrecked.""Someone said they got jumped by fifteen guys.""No, bro, it was ONE person—some freak from our school.""My cousin studies at Lê Quý Đôn… he said Tung's crew got humiliated."
Minh kept his head down and walked faster.
Most students didn't believe anything supernatural happened —because for ordinary people in Saigon, the martial world was nothing more than a myth.
Parents joked about old kung-fu movies.Teachers blamed street gangs for every rumor.Online forums made memes about "Võ lâm[1] sects hiding behind bubble tea shops."
Stories about real martial artists were treated like:
ghost stories,
urban legends,
exaggerated fight stories from TikTok,
or tales from old men in coffee shops.
Nobody truly believed that fighters who could break stone or leap rooftops actually walked among them.
To normal people, those things belonged in dramas and old comics.
They didn't know the truth:
The martial world never died — it simply grew quieter.More hidden.More dangerous.
And now, because of one uncontrolled awakening…
It had turned its gaze toward Minh.
He hated this.
He hated attention.
But then—
A group of unfamiliar boys walked past the gate.
Not from Lương Thế Vinh.Not from Lê Quý Đôn.
Their uniforms were from Marie Curie High School.
They looked rougher.Taller.More confident in violence.
One of them spat toward the ground.
"Where's the punk who beat Tung?"
Another replied, laughing:
"Hear this school got someone crazy. Boss from Lê Quý Đôn wants a rematch—but they ain't coming themselves. They dragged us."
Minh stiffened.
Lâm leaned toward him.
"This is bad… Lê Quý Đôn pulled Marie Curie into this? That's a whole different gang."
Minh swallowed because he remembered the school gang logic:Once you defeat someone, stronger wolves come to sniff you out.
He didn't even defeat anyone consciously…
And now danger was spreading.
Later in class, more rumors floated:
"Tung's shoulder is cracked.""Two of his boys got their ribs bruised.""The teachers covered it up, but the parents are furious.""Lê Quý Đôn blamed the boys who ran instead of helping.""They beat one of their OWN last night for embarrassing the school."
Minh froze.
So the revenge already started…internally.
And now they wanted external payback too.
He felt sick.
He didn't remember the fight clearly.He didn't want any more trouble.
But trouble was coming anyway.
On the rooftop, Minh practiced footwork.
Step.Shift.Pivot.
The ghost clicked his tongue.
"You're still flinching."
"I was nearly assassinated with a bat yesterday, let me flinch a bit!"
"No."
Minh groaned loudly.
The ghost circled him like a strict drill instructor.
"You have enemies now. From your school. From another school. From the martial world. You cannot move like a frightened child."
Minh's breath hitched.
"Enemies… from my school… another school… and martial artists? Why do you make it sound like I'm getting hunted by everyone?!"
"Because you are."
"WHAT?!"
The ghost continued calmly.
"Power attracts attention. Weakness attracts predators. You have both."
Minh felt faint.
That afternoon at the school gate, Minh noticed them again.
Marie Curie boys.Five of them this time.leaning against their Yamaha Exciter 155[2], watching the crowd.
One pointed subtly.
"That one. Hoàng Lâm. He was with the guy who dropped Tung."
"So what now?"
"We watch. If the freak shows up, we drag him to Marie Curie after school."
Minh quickly ducked behind a tree.
Lâm grabbed his arm.
"Bro. Do something."
"Like WHAT?!"
"I don't know—train harder??"
Minh wanted to cry.
From the intersection across the school, the man in the leather jacket leaned on his bike again.
He watched the Ngô Thời Nhiệm boys.Watched Lâm.Watched Minh hiding.
He smirked.
"So the high school gangs want revenge too… interesting."
He lit a cigarette.
"The kid's power flared once, and all the dogs started barking."
He tapped his phone.
A voice answered on the other end.
"Yes?"
The man spoke calmly.
"The boy is drawing attention. School gangs. Local street fighters. If this continues, weaker factions will come sniffing."
A pause.
"No, I still don't know what his power is. But it's unstable."
Another pause.
"Yes. I'll step in before things explode."
He hung up, eyes narrowing at Minh.
"You're not ready, kid.If the wrong person finds you first…you'll die before you understand what you are."
That night, Minh trained breathing on the rooftop.
Wind brushed against him.
City lights flickered.
The ghost was watching silently when—
A whisper slid into Minh's mind.
"They fear you.Let them.Break them."
Minh clenched his jaw.
"No. Shut up."
The ghost tilted his head.
"Who are you talking to?"
Minh's eyes widened.
"No—no one. Nothing."
Ghost frowned.
"Your heart rate increased by forty beats. Something is wrong."
Minh looked away.
He couldn't tell the ghost.
If Gomboc awakened again, the ghost would disappear.
And Minh would face everything alone.
[1] the world of martial artists, or murim in korean, wulin in chinese.
[2] its a motorcycle brand name