The late afternoon sun cast long shadows on the streets of Manila as Andrés "Andoy" Dela Cruz made his way through the crowded marketplace. A cacophony of sounds filled the air, from the chatter of vendors hawking their wares to the honking of jeepneys and tricycles weaving their way through the throng of pedestrians.

Andoy was a tall, lean young man in his early twenties, with a confident stride and an air of determination that set him apart from the crowd. His dark hair cropped short, framed a face that bore the unmistakable marks of countless street fights – a testament to the challenges he had faced growing up in the city's rougher neighborhoods.

As he navigated the narrow alleyways, he couldn't help but be reminded of the countless hours he had spent training in the martial art of Eskrima – the ancient Filipino fighting style that had become his obsession since he was a teenager. Though he had never received formal instruction, his natural talent and countless hours of practice had made him a formidable fighter.

As Andoy turned the corner, he caught a glimpse of a commotion in a nearby alley. A group of thugs had cornered a young man, and it was clear from the aggressive postures that they meant to do him harm. Without a second thought, Andoy rushed to intervene, his instincts taking over.

"Hey! Leave him alone!" Andoy shouted, stepping between the attackers and their intended victim. The thugs eyed him warily, sizing him up as a potential threat.

"You better walk away if you know what's good for you," one of the thugs sneered.

Andoy simply shook his head. "Not gonna happen. Now back off."

The leader of the group, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, stepped forward, brandishing a knife. "You're gonna regret this, boy."

In an instant, Andoy's training kicked in. He deftly disarmed the knife-wielding thug with a lightning-fast strike, following up with a series of rapid-fire punches and kicks that sent the man sprawling to the ground. The other thugs, taken aback by the display of skill, hesitated for a moment before rushing in to join the fray.

Andoy fought with the fluid grace of a seasoned Eskrima practitioner, his movements were precise and efficient as he dodged, parried, and counterattacked. Within moments, the thugs lay defeated at his feet, groaning in pain.

Breathing heavily, Andoy turned to the young man he had saved, who was staring at him with a mixture of awe and gratitude. "Are you okay?" he asked.

The young man nodded. "I... I don't know how to thank you."

"Just be more careful next time," Andoy replied, offering a small smile. As he turned to leave, the young man called out to him.

"Wait! My name is Mateo, and I... I think I have something that might interest you. Something about your fighting style... and your destiny."

Intrigued, Andoy paused and looked back, his curiosity piqued. Little did he know that this chance encounter would set him on a path of self-discovery and adventure that would change his life forever.