Justice of a Local Hero

Section 1: Bumping into Canelo

It was a bright, sunny afternoon in Flushing City.

Canelo stepped out of a narrow alley with a cigarette between his lips. As he walked down the sidewalk, people quickly moved aside, clearing a path for him. A few even lowered their heads as he passed.

“Lord Canelo.”

Coming from the opposite direction was a short young man in pajamas with a ridiculous watermelon haircut, his eyes completely fixed on his phone.

Without looking up once, he wandered right down the middle of the empty path.

Straight into Canelo.

THUD!

Canelo barely moved.

The young man was knocked off his feet and sent flying nearly a meter backward.

BAM!

He landed hard on the pavement.

“Ow! My ass!”

He rubbed his ass and looked up—then froze.

“L-Lord Canelo…”

His face went pale.

“S-sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m so sorry, Lord Canelo!”

Canelo took a drag from his cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke.

“Nah, it’s fine.”

The young man let out a small breath of relief.

“Just give me all your money before I crack open that watermelon head of yours.”

The young man immediately scrambled to his feet, his whole body stiff.

“O-okay! Yes, Lord Canelo!”

With a trembling hand, he handed Canelo everything he had—five dollars.

Canelo looked at the crumpled bill.

“That’s it?”

The young man nervously nodded.

Canelo grabbed the front of his pajamas and lifted him straight off the ground with one hand.

“AH!”

His legs kicked helplessly beneath him.

SLAP!

His head snapped to one side.

SLAP!

His head whipped back to the other side, his ridiculous watermelon haircut swinging with it.

His eyes filled with tears. His lower lip trembled.

Then—

“WAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

A ridiculously high-pitched cry burst from his mouth, sounding almost like a woman screaming.

Canelo stared at him for a few seconds, then let go.

Before his feet could touch the ground—

BOOM!

Canelo drove a powerful kick straight into his stomach.

The young man folded around the kick, a mouthful of white, foamy spit bursting from his lips as he shot into the air.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH—!”

He flew nearly two meters into the air, arms and legs flailing as everyone looked up.

Section 2: Bromance

Just before the young man crashed back down, a figure calmly stepped forward and caught him in a perfect princess carry.

His scream stopped instantly.

Someone in the crowd gasped.
“Sean?”
“Holy shit! It’s Sean!”

The crowd immediately erupted.
“We’re saved!”
“Sean! The local hero!”
“Thank God Sean is here!” …

Almost everyone in the neighborhood knew Sean. He chased down purse snatchers, beat up local punks, rescued kittens, and helped old ladies cross the street.

Sean was 178 centimeters tall, with messy side-swept bangs over one eye and a silver earring dangling from one ear. His button-up shirt was half open, exposing his slim, defined chest. He wore ripped jeans and polished leather shoes.

Behind him, a bright red cape fluttered in the breeze. Hold on a minute. What? It was a Chinese flag draped over his shoulders. Apparently, Sean had taken it from a nearby flagpole and used it as a cape for free. Talk about being cheap.

Sean paid no attention to the cheering crowd. His eyes were still locked on the young man in his arms.

The young man wrapped one arm around Sean’s neck, while his other hand rested gently against Sean’s exposed chest.

The young man slowly raised his head. Sean looked down.

Their eyes met. The young man’s glassy eyes were still wet with tears, his bruised cheeks slightly red and his moist lips slightly parted as he stared up at Sean. Sean’s expression softened.

Sean raised one hand and gently brushed the young man’s messy watermelon hair back into place. His fingers moved slowly through his hair, down along the side of his head and across his cheek until they reached his chin.

The young man didn’t move.

Sean gently placed two fingers beneath the young man’s chin and lifted his face a little higher.

The young man bit his lower lip and swallowed.

Sean leaned slightly closer and gazed deeply into the young man’s eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

The young man gave Sean a small, shy nod.

Neither of them looked away, as if they were the only two people left in the world. They didn’t even seem to hear the crowd around them.

“Are they in love?”
“Oh, how scandalous!”
“Just fuck already!”

Then—

PTOO!

A glob of spit shot straight toward Sean’s face.

Without taking his eyes off the young man, Sean casually tilted his head to the side. The spit flew past his cheek by barely a centimeter.

SPLAT!

It hit a man standing directly behind him right in the eye.

“Oh, fuck! Right in my eye!”

Sean finally raised his eyes toward Canelo.

Canelo stared back at him for a moment.

“Hey, yo, bro.”

“Cut it out,” Sean quickly replied, a hint of panic in his voice. “Don’t spread nonsense and give people the wrong idea.”

Canelo ignored him.

“Come on, bro. Back then, we fought together. We robbed people together. We—”

Sean’s face went pale.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Stop!”

Sean immediately panicked. Without thinking, he flung the young man aside.

The throw sent the young man flying toward the crowd, screaming like a woman the entire way.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

He crashed into several people, knocking them down like bowling pins.

Sean immediately turned back to Canelo.

“Shut up!”

Someone in the crowd looked completely confused.

“Wait… I thought they were deeply in love just a minute ago. What the hell is going on?”

Section 3: Local Hero vs. Peeing Man

Sean had to act fast. He needed to shut Canelo up before he revealed any more about his past.

Sean charged straight at Canelo at lightning speed and threw a punch at his face. Canelo quickly dodged.

Sean immediately spun around and launched into a rapid combination of punches and kicks. Canelo fought back, and the two exchanged blows at high speed.

Their fighting styles were almost identical—rough, aggressive, and more like street thugs brawling than trained martial artists. But Sean’s movements were slightly cleaner and more controlled.

It didn’t take long for Sean to exploit an opening. He grabbed Canelo by the arm, turned his back to him, and hurled him over his shoulder—a classic over-the-shoulder throw.

BAM!

Canelo slammed flat onto his back. He quickly rolled over and pushed himself back to his feet.

“Goddamn! You ain’t holding back!”

Canelo immediately backed away, trying to create some distance.

Sean knew exactly what he was doing. Canelo needed a runway to build up speed for his Skyfall Kick.

“Oh no, you don’t!”

Sean rushed forward and closed the gap before Canelo could get away. He stayed right on him, forcing Canelo into close-range combat and refusing to give him any chance to create the distance he needed.

Less than a minute later, Sean found another opening.

He caught Canelo by the leg and spun around, swinging him through a full circle before letting go—a classic spinning-swing throw.

Canelo flew through the air—

BAM!

He crashed onto the pavement and skidded forward nearly two meters before finally coming to a stop.

This time, Canelo was genuinely hurt. He stayed down for several seconds, needing more time to recover before finally forcing himself back to his feet.

But when he looked up, Sean had already created a runway.

Sean sprinted forward several steps, then launched himself horizontally into the air. His entire body straightened like a human missile, one leg extended directly toward Canelo.

HORIZONTAL EXECUTION KICK!

Someone in the crowd recognized the move instantly and shouted excitedly.

“Oh my God! That’s Sean’s signature finishing move—the Horizontal Execution Kick! With the speed of his charge and the hardness of his leather shoe, it can kick a hole straight through a tree, a concrete wall, even solid metal!”

The man beside him gave him a doubtful look.

“Yeah… I find that pretty hard to believe.”

Canelo’s eyes widened as Sean came flying straight toward his head like a human missile.

“Yo, fuck you! You aiming for my head?! You tryna kill me or some shit?!”

At the last possible second, Canelo instinctively threw himself to the side and rolled away.

Sean’s foot missed his head by centimeters.

CRASH!

His foot blasted straight through the side of a metal trash can.

The doubtful man stared at the hole in the metal trash can, his jaw hanging open.

“Well, what do you know… He wasn’t kidding.”

Section 4: The Turning Point

As soon as he finished speaking, the doubtful man looked ahead, and his jaw dropped even lower.

“Holy crap! Sean seems to be stuck!”

Sean’s leg was jammed deep inside the metal trash can. He gripped the sides with both hands and pulled with all his strength, desperately trying to free himself.

“Oh, come on… Not again. This has to be the worst possible time. Dang it!”

CLANG! CLANG!

The trash can shook violently, but his leg wouldn’t budge.

Canelo finally snapped out of his shock. Seeing Sean helplessly stuck in the trash can, he slowly walked over with a grin.

“Yo, yo… look who’s fucked now.”

SLAP! SLAP!

Canelo slapped Sean hard across the face twice, snapping his head one way and immediately back the other.

Sean squeezed out an awkward smile.

“Wait… can we talk—”

Canelo immediately launched into a furious barrage of punches and kicks, pounding Sean from head to toe without giving him a chance to fight back.

For the next three minutes, Sean could do nothing but take every hit. Even the crowd could feel his helplessness.

Finally, Sean’s eyes rolled back. His free leg buckled, and his body began to slump sideways.

Before he could hit the ground, Canelo lowered his body and swung one leg violently upward, driving a powerful rising kick into Sean.

BOOM!

Sean was blasted away with the trash can still stuck to his leg, flying nearly two meters before crashing onto the pavement.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The trash can rolled several times across the pavement before finally coming to a stop.

Sean lay motionless beside it, completely unconscious, his mouth hanging wide open.

The fight was over.

Section 5: Finishing Touch

Canelo walked over to the unconscious Sean and stopped beside him.

He kicked Sean once in the side.

“You son of a bitch.”

Then Canelo reached down and pulled open his zipper.

Several people in the crowd immediately realized what was about to happen.

“Oh my God…”
“No fucking way.”
“He’s doing it again!”

A powerful stream shot straight into Sean’s open mouth like a high-pressure water jet, giving the defeated local hero one final humiliation.

A young woman in the crowd quickly covered her eyes with both hands. A moment later, out of curiosity, she quietly opened a tiny gap between her fingers and peeked through, her eyes fixed intensely on Canelo’s exposed organ, purely for biological study purposes.

Nearby, another man had already pulled out his phone and started recording.

“Holy fuck! Gotta get this on video. This is going straight on YouTube! Hell yeah!”