Second Day: The First Clash
Li Wei barely had time to react before the puppet launched at him, faster than anything he'd ever faced before. The first punch—an unforgiving right hook—landed with bone-shaking force on his temple. His vision blurred as his head snapped sideways, and a wave of nausea followed. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.
Before he could recover, the puppet followed up with a brutal knee to his ribs, and he gasped, feeling the air squeezed out of his lungs. His chest burned, and he crumpled to the floor. But the puppet didn't wait for him to get up. It was already upon him, striking without mercy.
The puppet grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back, and wrenched him up off the ground. A low kick landed in his abdomen, sending him flying across the room, crashing into the stone wall. His body was already sore, bruises blooming in the shape of the puppet's fists, and his shirt was soaked in sweat and blood. His limbs felt heavy, sluggish. Yet, despite the pain, he got up.
First Week: A Relentless Onslaught
The puppet's attacks were a blur of fists, elbows, knees, and kicks. Each strike was aimed with terrifying precision. By the third day, it seemed as if the puppet's brutality during combat was increasing each time they would fight Li Wei's body would take so much damage that his muscles screamed in protest with every movement, but still, he stood tall, ready to fight again.
The puppet hit hard—always targeting his ribs, his face, his legs. Every blow seemed designed to shatter him. A swift right hook sent him sprawling across the floor, blood spraying from his lips. He barely had time to recover before a crushing kick to his side sent him into the air, landing with a sickening thud against the floor. The pain was unbearable, but it didn't matter. He pushed himself up. His breath came in short gasps, his vision swimming with darkness. His arms ached from the constant impact, his skin covered in cuts and bruises.
Still, he rose. His every step was a struggle, but his resolve never wavered. The puppet continued its barrage, and he did his best to dodge and block, but it was like trying to stop a tidal wave with bare hands. His body was already battered, his face a mess of bruises and blood, yet the fight went on. Each time he fell, the pain felt more and more suffocating, but he would get up again, determined to learn.
One Month: Blood and Sweat
By the end of the first month, Li Wei had learned one crucial thing: The puppet didn't give up. No matter how many times it slammed him to the ground, no matter how many times it made him bleed, it kept coming. It was relentless, unfeeling, a perfect opponent for honing his skills.
Li Wei's hands were raw, his knuckles cracked and swollen. His face was puffy, with a dark bruise staining the left side of his jaw. Blood oozed from a cut above his eyebrow, and the taste of iron lingered in his mouth. His entire body felt like one massive bruise, aching in ways he hadn't known were possible. But the puppet's unyielding onslaught pushed him harder.
He began to adapt. His footwork was improving, his stance more stable. He could sense the puppet's rhythm now, predict its next move even before it happened. But that didn't mean he was winning. The puppet's counterattacks were vicious, and Li Wei had no choice but to fight on, each hit making him feel like his body was coming apart.
A punch to his gut left him gasping, the air knocked out of his lungs. A kick to his knee made it buckle, sending him sprawling to the ground. Blood pooled in his mouth as he struggled to rise. He could barely keep his eyes open from the pain, but he stood, dragging his battered body upright.
He threw a wild, desperate punch toward the puppet, but the blow was easily dodged. The puppet retaliated immediately—an uppercut that crashed into Li Wei's jaw, knocking him off his feet and sending him crashing to the floor. His vision blurred. The world spun. And yet, when he opened his eyes, the puppet was still coming at him.
Three Months: Breaking Point
Li Wei's body was no longer just sore—it was broken under the relentless assault. His muscles burned with strain, his joints locked in resistance. Blood streamed from fresh cuts across his arms, face, and chest as the puppet's strikes came faster, more vicious. Yet even as the pain threatened to overwhelm him, he felt a shift. He could track the puppet's movements more clearly now, anticipating its next attack, but it was still too fast for him to counter.
A punch from the puppet landed square in his gut, sending him flying back, his body twisting as it slammed into the floor. His ribs cracked from the impact. He groaned, struggling to rise, but the pain was almost unbearable. His skin was raw and torn from the constant abuse, and blood dripped from his nose, mouth, and ears.
The puppet didn't stop. It closed in with the same deadly efficiency, landing a knee to his chest. The blow knocked him back again, the force so strong that it felt like his heart had stopped beating. His vision flashed white, his breath erratic. He gasped for air, the pressure on his chest suffocating. Yet, somehow, he managed to pull himself up. Each movement was agony, but he refused to give in.
He threw a punch, a desperate move to keep the puppet at bay. This time, his fist connected with the puppet's jaw, but it was only a glancing blow. The puppet responded immediately, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back. With a brutal slam, it threw him to the floor, and his body crashed against the cold, hard ground, his bones protesting with every movement.
Six Months: A Faint Spark of Improvement
At the six-month mark, Li Wei's body bore the bruises and fresh cuts from each intense battle. His muscles screamed with every movement, his joints swollen from the relentless strain. After each brutal clash, his body healed, leaving no trace of the damage—no marks, no scars. Yet, something had changed. despite his recovery, he could feel the fight deep in his bones, his instincts sharpening with every encounter, preparing him for the next challenge.
The puppet attacked with precision, but Li Wei's responses were becoming faster. He managed to dodge a jab and retaliated with a quick left hook that landed on the puppet's side. The puppet staggered back for just a moment, and that brief opening was enough. Li Wei launched a series of quick jabs, his body moving faster than it had in the past.
But the puppet was still faster, still stronger. A knee to his face sent him reeling, and a spinning kick landed square in his ribs, forcing the air from his lungs. He staggered back, blood streaming from his mouth, but he fought on. His body was covered in fresh bruises, his skin torn and shredded, but the fight was still on.
One Year: The Fight Continues
The fight began as it always did—relentless, unforgiving. The puppet came at Li Wei with brutal speed, its fists and feet a blur. It was a storm of elbows, punches, and kicks that left no room to breathe. Li Wei's body was a testament to the brutality of the training, covered in cuts, bruises, and blood that streamed from his face and torso. But there was a difference this time—he didn't fall as quickly.
A right hook exploded into his jaw, sending him stumbling back, blood spraying from his lips. His body reeled with the force, but he didn't let it stop him. With a gritted expression, he pushed forward, trying to regain his footing as the puppet closed in. A knee aimed straight at his ribs sent him crashing to the ground, air knocked from his lungs, but Li Wei fought through it, barely managing to roll out of the way before the puppet's next kick could finish him off.
His body was aching, but his instincts were finally beginning to catch up. He could sense the puppet's movements now, even if he couldn't always stop them. A punch aimed at his face was narrowly avoided, and for the first time in months, he landed a clean jab to the puppet's side. The puppet staggered back, momentarily stunned, but it retaliated with a series of rapid jabs that Li Wei could barely block.
Each hit made him stumble. The puppet was too fast, too precise. But his reflexes had improved. He had learned to read the rhythm of the puppet's attacks. A low kick aimed at his knee was blocked just in time, and he responded with a sharp counter, landing a solid kick to the puppet's leg. It wasn't much, but it was progress.
The puppet pressed on, never stopping, never giving him a moment to recover. It was relentless, vicious. It grabbed him by the arm, twisting it behind his back, before slamming him onto the cold, hard floor. His body groaned in protest, but he immediately twisted out, avoiding the next strike with more agility than before. He had learned to move faster, more decisively, but the puppet still overwhelmed him.
By the end of the fight, Li Wei's body was covered in bruises, his face a swollen mess. But there was a spark in his eyes, a glimmer of hope. He wasn't winning yet, but for the first time, he felt like he was on the verge of something greater.
One and a Half Years: A Glimmer of Mastery
At the one and a half-year mark, the change was more noticeable. Li Wei's reflexes had become more instinctive, his body responding quicker, though he still couldn't predict every move the puppet made. The puppet still dominated the fight, but now, Li Wei's counters were landing with more precision. His body, bruised and bloodied, moved with more confidence, his stance steadier, his attacks faster.
The fight began with the usual flurry—blows raining down, strikes that could crush a lesser fighter. A heavy punch came toward his head, but Li Wei ducked, narrowly avoiding it. He could feel the puppet's movements before they happened. A quick jab to its ribs gave him a fleeting advantage, a flash of the progress he'd made. The puppet staggered back, and he followed with a low kick to its knee, forcing it off-balance for a moment. It wasn't much, but it was more than he had ever managed before.
Still, the puppet didn't stop. It recovered in a split second, closing the gap between them again. It was faster, more precise, and Li Wei struggled to keep up. A right hook crashed into his temple, sending him stumbling sideways. He could feel his vision blur, but he gritted his teeth and pushed forward. His footwork was better, sharper, but the puppet still controlled the fight.
Each of his punches was met with a block or a counter. The puppet seemed to anticipate every move he made, forcing him to fight defensively, to survive the onslaught. A knee to his chest forced the wind out of him, and Li Wei hit the ground, blood spilling from his mouth. But he didn't stay down. He rolled, pushed himself up, and tried again.
His stamina was improving. He was taking fewer hits, blocking more, and landing the occasional blow. But every time he thought he had an opening, the puppet found a way to shut it down. A low sweep took out his legs, sending him crashing to the floor again. His body was wracked with pain, but he fought through it, managing to get to his feet once more.
The fight was brutal, bloody. But this time, Li Wei held his ground longer, his strikes landing more often. It wasn't enough to win the fight, but it was enough to keep him in it. He was improving, step by step, with each brutal clash.
His body was battered, his bloodied face a reflection of the war he waged with the puppet. But there was something different this time. His movements were smoother, faster. He was still outmatched, but now, for the first time, he felt that he could almost keep up.
The fight ended in the usual manner, with the puppet's relentless onslaught overwhelming him, but Li Wei didn't fall as easily. As he limped back to the starting position, bruised, battered, and bloodied, he knew he was one step closer to winning. One step closer to mastering this brutal training.
Two Years: The Final Clash
The fight began with the same intensity as all the others, but something was different this time. Li Wei's movements were fluid, a sharp contrast to the clumsy, desperate swings he had thrown in the beginning. The puppet launched itself at him with lightning speed, throwing a series of punches aimed to finish him off quickly. But Li Wei was no longer overwhelmed by the barrage. He moved with precision, dodging and countering with newfound fluidity.
The first few exchanges were a blur—fists colliding, feet stomping the ground, but Li Wei felt the rhythm now. A spinning kick aimed at his head was narrowly avoided, Li Wei's head ducking just in time. He moved in close, delivering a brutal elbow strike to the puppet's jaw. It staggered back, momentarily stunned. For the first time, he could see it falter. His body surged with adrenaline as the sense of his own improvement surged to the surface.
But the puppet didn't stop. It responded with a heavy knee aimed directly at his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Li Wei was sent stumbling backward, but this time, the blow wasn't enough to drop him. He caught himself mid-step and launched forward, a flurry of jabs and cross punches that forced the puppet to step back for a fraction of a second.
Li Wei wasn't done. His confidence surged as he threw a left hook, then a right uppercut. The puppet blocked the first, but the second punched through its defense, landing square against its chin. The puppet stumbled—just slightly—but it was enough. That moment of hesitation opened a window of opportunity.
The next few seconds felt like they stretched out, time slowing as Li Wei launched himself into action. His footwork was clean, his movements crisp. A swift low kick swept the puppet's legs out from under it. He followed up immediately with a series of hammerfists to the puppet's back. The blows landed with sickening thuds, but the puppet didn't go down.
The puppet retaliated instantly, wrapping its arm around his waist and pulling him into a crushing bear hug. Li Wei gasped for air, feeling his ribs protest under the weight, but he wasn't finished. He dug his elbows into the puppet's sides, fighting for every inch. With a forceful heave, he broke free, spinning out of the grasp and landing a sharp knee to its gut. The puppet staggered back, clearly winded, but not done.
Li Wei's breath was ragged, his muscles screaming for relief, but he ignored the pain. A quick jab to the puppet's face, a low kick to its knee, and another series of rapid punches sent it back once more. He was relentless now, matching the puppet's ferocity with his own. The puppet's movements were still faster, still precise, but Li Wei's counters had become second nature. He anticipated the strikes before they came, dodging with surgical accuracy, striking with purpose.
But then, the puppet seemed to change tactics. It became more deliberate, more calculated in its movements. A feint, followed by a quick uppercut, had Li Wei momentarily disoriented. He barely managed to block the follow-up jab aimed at his head, but the force of it threw him off balance. The puppet was pressing in now, its strikes landing more often, forcing him to give ground.
He was pushed back, but Li Wei didn't panic. He was in control—he could feel it. A quick pivot, a spinning elbow strike, and he connected once again with the puppet's head. The puppet staggered but didn't fall. Yet, for the first time, Li Wei saw it—there was hesitation. A slight break in its perfect precision.
With a roar, Li Wei surged forward, his body moving faster than it had in two years of training. His punches were a blur, each strike landing with brutal precision. The puppet tried to block, but it was too slow now. A crushing knee to its ribs followed by an elbow to its neck sent it stumbling back, its movements sluggish.
And then, with a single, final surge of energy, Li Wei closed the distance. He threw everything he had left into one last flurry of strikes—cross punches, hooks, jabs, knees—all targeted to the puppet's vital points. The puppet couldn't keep up. It couldn't block in time. With a final, devastating blow to its head, Li Wei sent it crashing to the ground, completely immobilized.
For a long moment, the room fell silent. Li Wei stood, gasping for air, blood dripping from his face and body, his chest heaving. His limbs felt like they might collapse under him, but he had done it. He had won.
The puppet lay motionless on the ground, the training that had once felt insurmountable now overcome. The relentless barrage of strikes, the unyielding blows, the brutal fights—each one had taken its toll, but it had also forged him into something greater. A fighter. A true martial artist.
For the first time in two years, Li Wei stood victorious. And as he limped to the side, drenched in blood, sweat, and exhaustion, a small smile tugged at his lips. He had earned this victory—not through brute strength or speed, but through the blood, sweat, and sheer willpower that had driven him to survive the unrelenting onslaught. He had finally beaten the puppet.