Seeing their boss clutching his wrist and screaming, the boxing gym staff forgot all about teaching anyone a lesson. They imdiately helped the man up to take him to the hospital.
The young punks were stunned, looking at Dawn Miles in disbelief.
Blondie looked at her with admiration, gave her a thumbs-up, and exclaid, "Little bro, you’re fucking aweso!"
Dawn Miles was completely calm. She shook her arm and looked at a stunned employee. "What’s the total?"
The employee finally snapped out of it. With a furious expression, he grabbed his phone to call the police, shouting as he dialed, "Just you wait!"
Seeing this, the young punks imdiately started pushing Dawn Miles, while another one grabbed her suitcase and started running.
"Run—"
"Stop—"
Dawn Miles glanced at Purple, who was already running away with Ditto Miles, and asked calmly, "Why are we running?"
Blondie, who was desperately pulling on Dawn Miles’s arm, paused. He said incredulously, "We got into a fight."
"It’s fine. It was self-defense."
Then, Dawn Miles called out, "Ditto."
"Present, Master!"
To everyone’s shock, the silver suitcase in Purple’s arms suddenly began to transform, turning into a small robot.
It then nimbly leaped from his arms and glided over to Dawn Miles’s side.
"Send the video and audio recordings to the Martial Affairs Bureau."
Seeing this, an older employee’s face instantly changed.
The Martial Affairs Bureau was a security departnt in the Martial World that specifically managed Martial Artists; ordinary people had no contact with it.
’To contact the Martial Affairs Bureau right away... this person couldn’t be ordinary.’
"Little bro... let’s just let this go. Think of it as... a misunderstanding between new friends..."
But Ditto announced, "Transmission successful! Agents from the Martial Affairs Bureau will arrive on-site in ten minutes."
These words terrified the employee. He imdiately ran back into the shop, turned off the lights, locked the door, and fled.
The young punks were so shocked they couldn’t react for a long mont.
"Ditto, go get the car."
A mont later, a few short honks ca from nearby.
Dawn Miles glanced at the punks and said flatly, "Get in."
After they had all squeezed into the car, Dawn Miles asked, "Where are you staying? I’ll give you a ride."
Blondie’s face lit up. He quickly answered, "The Linton Hotel. Bro, where’d you buy that Transforr? I want to get one too."
"That thing looks expensive. Can you even afford it?" Purple retorted coolly, shutting him down.
"Once the boss gets his certification from the Martial Alliance and we open our school, we’ll definitely be able to afford one. Right, Boss?"
A low "Mmm" ca from beside Dawn Miles.
She turned to glance at him. His face looked young, but his eyes held a mature depth.
The way he fought earlier also had a desperate ferocity, like soone who’d been knocking around the streets for years.
When he looked back at her, Dawn Miles asked lightly, "How’d you get those patterns on your bodies?"
From the back seat, Blondie jumped in again. "The tattoos on them—I did them! What do you think? Pretty cool, right?"
His face was full of pride, as if their tattoos were his masterpieces.
Dawn Miles nodded slightly. "Can you give one?"
"Sure! Where do you want it? I happen to have my tattoo kit with ."
"Right arm."
***
Blondie and his crew were staying in a small, privately-owned hotel. It was in a rather remote location and the accommodations were basic, but it was cheap.
Dawn Miles rented a room, then followed Blondie to his ssy "den."
"Hehehe... It’s a little ssy, don’t mind it..." Blondie casually rolled up the blankets and clothes on his bed and tossed them onto the adjacent one.
"Zack Sutton, you didn’t wash your fucking socks again!" Purple, with a nacing look, picked up a pair of socks that had been lying in the blankets and threw them into the simple bathroom.
"Hehehe, uh, how about we go to your room then?"
But Dawn Miles shook her head. "No..."
Blondie froze, scratching his face. "Then let’s go to the boss’s room."
Blondie’s boss was nad Kyle Kane. His family used to run a martial arts school. They weren’t wealthy, but they could make a living.
But then Kyle Kane’s father was seriously injured in a competition. To scrape together the money for his treatnt, the family had no choice but to sell the school. Kyle was forced to drop out and start working to support them.
At one of his jobs, Kyle Kane t Blondie and the other young punks. After a fight, he successfully beca their leader and now planned to reopen the martial arts school with them.
"After our boss gets his certification from the Martial Alliance this ti, we can go back to his hotown and reopen the school. I’ll be a Level One Instructor then..." Blondie said, carrying his toolbox, his face full of hope for the future.
Dawn Miles thought for a mont, then turned and asked, "To open a martial arts school, you need your own unique style of martial arts. Do you have one?"
Blondie suddenly lowered his voice. "My boss’s ancestors were great masters of the Martial Arts. His family has its own unique style..."
"Zack Sutton—"
The door in front of them suddenly swung open, revealing Kyle Kane glaring at them with a dark expression.
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