Kyle, now in his persona as Ice, rubbed his chin, "Oh, I think not, son. That would be insulting stupid people."
Alex, taking on his new identity of Cinder, scrunched up his face, "Dead people?"
Ice shook his head.
Understanding dawned on Cinder's face, "Ah. Half-dead people."
Ice smiled, "Well, I prefer maimed and incapacitated, but half-dead would do."
Cinder rolled his eyes, "I'm only five, Father. My vocabulary isn't that great yet."
Ice gave an audible sigh and shook his head while pressing the space between his eyebrows, then said, "That excuse isn't going to work, you know. You may be 'only' five, as you said, but you're not an ordinary five year old now, are you?"
"You! You!" the leader was practically frothing at the mouth as he and his gang were ignored while the father and son duo were speaking nonsense.
He was pointing at them with a steel pipe that he got from God-knows-where, his mouth open while he spouted some courageous words, "You think you're all that, is it?! Let me show you the might of the Snake Gang!!"
He puffed up his chest, thinking that the words would cause the duo some fear. After all, the Snake Gang wasn't some small town run-of-the-mill gang. It was one of the bigger ones.
Granted, it wasn't that big but they weren't small fry either.
Their reputation was also increasing in this place and no one dared to fight them for they were known to be merciless.
The other four behind him were taking out their weapons as well, their bodies taut as they started showing various expressions that were supposed to be menacing.
"Snake Gang, huh?" Ice said slowly.
"Yes!" the leader shouted, thumping his chest and banging the steel pipe on the ground, the metallic sound loud and clear reverbeting in the night, "Scared now, are you? Well, it's too late."
He looked at the little boy and said with the lofty attitude of an elder giving a lesson, "Watch closely and see what happens when you mess with the wrong person. Never bite off more than you can chew."
Cinder raised his eyebrows at the bold declaration.
Seeing this, the leader grinned maniacally, thinking that the little boy was finally afraid, "Don't worry, we won't kill your father."
He looked up at the adult, only to see a slow smile form on his face.
For some reason, just that little act made him feel cold to the bones.
Earlier, it seemed like there was this relaxed atmosphere whereby the father and son were talking amicably but right now, that was gone entirely.
In its place, there was this sense of doom that seemed to pierce right through them as the man stared at them coldly. His blue eyes …
Wait.
Blue eyes?
Though Country Tz was multiracial, blue eyes were still not a common sight.
"B-B-B-" came the stuttering voice behind him.
"WHAT?!" he shouted, unable to take his eyes off the man that was staring at them like he was staring at dead people.
"B-boss," the man finally managed to say, "Blue eyes!"
"I can see that, you idiot!"
"It..it...it can't be Ice, can it?" the other said fearfully, his voice shaking.
"Impossible!" the man nearly roared, "If that is Ice, where is Fyre? You know they're always together. It's a coincidence! Coincidence!!"
Then, to their horror, they saw the man turn to face the kid, his body moving a bit and his bare arm came into view.
Twin dragon tattoos.
No one could speak then, fear overriding reason as they felt like they had fallen into the Pits of Hell.
"Look closely, Cinder," came the voice of the man in front of them, and his voice seemed calm, emotionless, and somehow, full of death, "The consequence of biting off more than you can chew."
Before anyone could move, Ice was directly in front of the leader. The leader barely managed a squeak when Ice grabbed him by the neck and turned, his leg already up in the air.
He swung it out in an arc and like a machine gun, the sound of tat-a-tat-tat filled the air as each kick hit the side of the head of the four men in rapid succession. The force was so strong that their heads whipped to the side, and the kick was so quick and sudden that they didn't even have time to defend themselves.
Just as their heads were ringing from the kick, they then felt their chest cave in as Ice made another twist of his waist and followed it up with a direct kick on their chest in the other direction.
They all fell down on their backs, groaning as they writhed in pain.
It was only two kicks, yet it felt like they had gone through the grinder.
Ice grinned as he saw them lying there, knowing that they wouldn't be able to get up anytime soon. He had aimed his kicks precisely.
The first kick hit the sides of their heads - specifically, alongside the jaw and ear. The force was strong enough to cause trauma to the brain, causing it to shake inside the skull. This made the ones getting hit to feel rather lightheaded.
Added to that, it had also hit the ear, rupturing their eardrums. This caused tinnitus, that is, they could hear a ringing sound inside their ear, and be disoriented. Some even felt nausea and wanted to vomit.
Thus, they could not react at all.
The second kick then hit them on the upper chest, and Ice controlled his strength so that it merely cracked the ribs. This would cause them difficulty in breathing, and the force was strong enough to affect the heart but not severe enough to injure it badly.
It just made them feel like they were dying, but they weren't.
Knowing the anatomy and where the pressure points were is extremely useful to make the fights end quickly. He had the element of surprise, and speed, thus could deal with such small fry easily.
All this while, his grip on the leader's neck did not loosen and he was flung about like some rag doll as Ice made his moves. Ice then put the man in an arm lock, holding the arms behind his back while making him kneel.
"Come here, Cinder," Ice said.
The leader looked as the small boy came over and stood directly in front of him. As he was on his knees, he looked into the cold blue eyes of the little boy and shivered.
"Remember the moves I taught you?" Ice asked.
"You taught me a lot of moves," Cinder replied, "Which ones are you talking about?"
"Smart-aleck," Ice retorted as he brought the leader's face closer to Cinder, "Which ones do you think I'm talking about?"
"For the face?"
"Duh," Ice snorted.
"Seriously? You want me to punch him?"
"Why? Can't do it?"
"It's not that I can't, but why?"
"Why not?" Ice asked back.
Cinder shrugged.
"I told you that you need some life experience," Ice told him, "You didn't think I just meant watching me, did you?"
Cinder looked at his hands. All this time, he had only been hitting the test dummy at home. As realistic as it was, it could not be the same as hitting a real human being and he was feeling a bit apprehensive.
"You need to vent," Ice explained, "Even though you managed to control your temper before, there's a part of you that is not satisfied, right? Like an itch that can't be scratched. It's getting to be uncomfortable."
Cinder looked at his father in surprise, "How did you know?"
Ice smiled, "Because I'm the same. As my son, it's only natural that you would inherit some part of me even if you don't like it."
Ice started shaking the man and said, "I left this one for you. Focus on the weakest part of the face so that you can have the maximum impact with the minimum force. Do you remember what those points are?"
"Nose, chin or jaw, and neck," Cinder recited.
"There's one more, Cinder," Ice reminded him, "Those three are the typical places but I don't want you to hit there."
"The cheek?" Cinder asked, rubbing his chin, not realising that it was a habit his father also had as Ice when he was thinking hard.
"Form the proper first and place it right under the cheekbone," Ice instructed.
Cinder had his hand fully open and all fingers extended. He folded the last three fingers tightly with the fingertips touching the palm. His index finger, however, was not curled up into the palm but kept straight and pointed towards his wrist. His thumb then went across the fingers to lock the first tight.
"I notice you like the Old School Fist," Ice said with approval as Cinder made his fist.
Cinder didn't answer and placed his fist at a slight angle right under the cheekbone.
"Notice how your first seems to be a perfect fit there?" Ice asked.
Cinder was surprised.
So this was why his father wanted him to use real human beings for practice. The dummy did not have this sort of feel.
"Remember to protect your thumb and not to use too much force," Ice reminded him.
"Why a fist?" Cinder complained, "Why can't I just use the palm of my hand? Didn't you say I could use either?"
"Yes, but you're hitting an adult right now," Ice explained patiently, "The knuckles are stronger than the palm and will hurt more. Remember the angle - upwards."
All this while, during the lesson, the leader was basically crying to himself but unable to move. The grip that Ice had him under was so tight that all he could do was simply wait to be punched.
Finding out that the man was Ice was bad.
Discovering that the small boy was his son was worse.
But nothing could beat the feeling of listening to the lessons the father was giving the son and knowing that he was the one to provide the human punching bag.
There was such a science to hitting someone?!
He was hardly listening, however, for his gaze was too focused on the little boy in front of him that had the same cold aura and blue eyes of Ice.
"You really are a mini-Ice," he couldn't help but say.
Cinder's eyes became red.