Master Lee’s Vengeance

Section 1: Danger Instinct

Lee Kumlok had always possessed a strange instinct.

Even as a child, he could sense danger before it arrived. He could never explain how it worked. There were no visions of the future and no mysterious voice inside his head. His body simply knew.

His older brother, Lee Kumkee, had always been stronger and faster. In terms of raw physical ability, Kumlok could never match him. But Kumlok had something his brother didn’t: an almost animal-like sensitivity to danger.

Over the years, that instinct had saved him countless times. A punch would come from outside his vision, and his head would move before he even realized it was there. A kick would suddenly change direction, and his body would already be pulling away. Sometimes he didn’t understand what he had avoided until the danger had passed.

The stronger the threat, the stronger the warning. Against an ordinary opponent, it might be nothing more than a faint uneasiness. Against someone who could seriously hurt him, his muscles would tighten and his heartbeat would quicken.

Lee Kumlok had learned long ago never to ignore that instinct. It had kept him alive too many times.

But never in his entire life had it reacted like this.

Back in the dojo, the disciples were still talking behind him.

“Master, don’t kill him.”

“If he’s really Canelo’s cousin, Canelo might come after us.”

“We already have enough trouble.”

Lee Kumlok barely heard them. His eyes remained fixed on Benson.

He studied the man standing in front of him. The bowl cut. The harmless, almost stupid-looking face. Whatever had happened to Benson’s eyes moments ago was gone. They looked completely normal now.

His shoulders were narrow. His chest was flat. His arms were thin, with barely any muscle on them. His entire body looked weak and fragile.

And then there were his pants.

They were still wet.

The man had literally pissed himself in front of the entire dojo.

Lee Kumlok stared at him. No matter how he looked at it, Benson might have been the weakest man he had ever seen.

And yet every instinct in his body was screaming that something was terribly wrong.

The two things simply did not fit together.

Benson remained where he was, frightened and overwhelmed. He didn’t answer Lee Kumlok’s question.

What the fuck are you?

Lee Kumlok slowly forced himself to calm down. Then his expression hardened.

“Do you know what happened to my brother?”

Benson blinked.

“A few days ago, my brother fought Canelo. After that fight, he died.”

Benson’s eyes widened slightly.

Lee Kumlok continued. “Do you know what happened to this dojo after that? Students quit. New students stopped coming. People on the internet started calling us fake kung fu. Some even started calling us ‘Kungflu.’ Every nobody who wants to make a name for himself suddenly thinks he can walk through that door and challenge us.”

His jaw tightened. “My brother died. Our name became a joke. And then you came here claiming to be Canelo’s cousin.”

He stared directly into Benson’s eyes.

“Was humiliating my brother before his death not enough? Now his own dojo too?”

His fists tightened.

“I don’t know what the hell you are. But whatever you are… did you come here just to humiliate us all over again?”

Section 2: Failed Confession

Benson froze.

Canelo’s cousin?

His eyes widened as everything suddenly connected. Lee Kumkee. Canelo. The fight. The death. The blood drained from his face as he finally understood what he had walked into.

“Oh shit…” he whispered, his hands beginning to tremble.

He had made the worst mistake of his life.

“No, no, wait. You’ve got it wrong,” Benson said hurriedly, raising both hands. “I’m not Canelo’s cousin. I lied. I just wanted to join a dojo, but nobody would give me a chance. I thought if I pretended to have some kind of connection, maybe you’d take me seriously. That’s all.”

He swallowed. “I really do love kung fu. I really want to learn. But Canelo isn’t my cousin. I don’t even know him.”

Lee Kumlok answered immediately.

“No way.”

Benson stared at him.

“There is no way I’m going to believe you. You are Canelo’s cousin.”

“Master is right,” one disciple said. “He’s just trying to save his own skin.”

“Exactly. He’s Canelo’s cousin. No doubt about it.”

Another disciple grabbed a wooden staff. “If this guy isn’t Canelo’s cousin, I’ll shove this entire stick up my ass right here, right now.”

Benson stared at all of them in disbelief.

“Please. Trust me. This whole thing is a misunderstanding. I’m telling you the truth.”

He pointed at his own eyes. “Look at me. Look into my eyes. Do these look like the eyes of a liar?”

There was no performance left in him now. No clever plan. No attempt to manipulate anyone. For once, Benson was telling the truth with every bit of honesty he had.

Lee Kumlok looked into his eyes. So did the disciples.

The entire dojo fell silent.

Several long seconds passed.

Benson looked from face to face. A little hope returned to his eyes.

“Right?” he asked. “You believe me now?”

Everyone instantly shook their heads.

“Nope.”

For a moment, nobody said anything. Then one of the disciples looked around.

“So… what do we do with him now?”

Section 3: Dojo Argument

The question immediately divided the room.

“Just let him go. We’ve already taught him enough of a lesson.”

“No way. He came here to humiliate our dojo. We can’t just let him walk out like nothing happened.”

The disciples exchanged glances and began discussing it among themselves. The discussion quickly became an argument. Voices grew louder, fingers started pointing, and before long, shoulders were bumping and hands were shoving people back.

Within moments, the disciples had split into two angry groups facing each other across the dojo.

Neither side backed down.

The confrontation quickly turned physical, until one disciple suddenly snapped and drove a kick into another man’s chest.

BAM!

The man flew across the dojo and slammed into the wall, cracking the surface around him and leaving his entire body embedded in it.

For a second, everyone froze.

Then the argument exploded.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

More disciples surged forward. Fists clenched, sleeves were pulled up, and within seconds, the two sides looked ready to turn the entire dojo into a battlefield.

Just as the two sides were about to collide—

Section 4: Bad Solution

“STOP!”

A voice thundered across the dojo.

Everyone turned.

One disciple had stepped between the two groups with one hand raised dramatically.

A few people immediately groaned.

“Oh, this guy again…”

Another disciple covered his face with one hand. Beside him, someone muttered, “This guy is a total noob.”

“Oh yeah!” another disciple shouted. “He sucks royally!”

This wasn’t the first time. Whenever things became tense, this particular disciple had a habit of jumping in with a joke at exactly the wrong moment. He had never actually helped. If anything, he usually made things worse.

The moment the others saw him step forward, they already had a bad feeling about this.

“Everybody calm down,” he said. “There’s no reason for us to fight each other.”

Surprisingly, the room actually began to quiet down.

The disciple cleared his throat, straightened his back, and put on a serious expression.

“I have a solution.”

Every eye in the dojo turned toward him.

The disciple paused deliberately, enjoying the attention. He wasn’t actually planning to hurt Benson. He simply wanted to throw out a ridiculous joke, get everyone laughing, and break the tension.

He slowly raised one hand and pointed straight at Benson’s crotch, his expression dead serious.

“Let’s chop his dick off.”

He looked around expectantly.

In his head, everyone was already bursting into laughter.

Instead—

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Nobody laughed. Nobody even smiled.

The disciple kept looking from face to face, waiting for a reaction that never came. A few painfully quiet seconds passed, and his confident smile slowly stiffened into an awkward one.

“Heh… heh…”

Still nothing.

Benson’s face, meanwhile, had gone completely white.

“AAAAAH! NO!”

Before the disciple could explain himself, Benson rushed forward, dropped to the floor, and wrapped both arms around his leg.

The disciple stared down at him, completely bewildered.

“Oh, dude, I was just jo—”

“PLEASE!” Benson cried. “Don’t do that! I don’t even have a girlfriend yet! I don’t have any kids! I don’t have any brothers! My bloodline can’t end with me!”

Benson tightened his grip around the disciple’s leg.

“Oh, chill out, man.”

“I’LL DO ANYTHING!”

Section 5: Good Boy

Before anyone could respond, Benson let go of his leg and immediately dropped onto all fours.

“I can be a dog! I can bark! Anything but chopping my dick!”

“Woof! Woof!”

Everyone stared at him.

Then one disciple slowly walked over and patted Benson on his bowl-cut head.

“Good boy.”

A few people started laughing. “Sit,” someone called out, and Benson immediately sat back on his heels. Another disciple held out a hand.

“Paw.”

Benson raised one hand and placed it in his palm.

“Other paw.”

He obediently switched hands, and the laughter around him grew louder.

“Woof,” someone ordered.

“Woof!”

“Louder!”

“WOOF! WOOF!”

Within moments, the same disciples who had nearly started a civil war gathered around Benson, laughed, petted his head, and kept throwing commands at him as if he were the dojo’s new dog. Benson obeyed every single one.

Lee Kumlok didn’t join in.

While the disciples laughed and played with Benson, Lee Kumlok stepped to one side and watched him crawl across the floor. Benson looked completely pathetic, yet that terrible warning from earlier still lingered in the back of Kumlok’s mind.

It made no sense.

Lee Kumlok glanced toward the entrance.

His eyes stopped on something outside.

For several seconds, he simply stared at it. Then his expression slowly changed.

An idea had come to him.

Section 6: Final Price

“Enough.”

The laughter died down. The disciples stopped playing with Benson and turned toward their master.

Benson remained on all fours in the middle of the dojo.

Lee Kumlok looked down at him.

“Listen carefully. After what happened to my brother, this dojo has already suffered enough humiliation. Then you came here today, claimed to be Canelo’s cousin, and humiliated us again.”

Benson stayed on all fours, staring up at him nervously.

“But I’m willing to let what happened today end here. You can leave this dojo alive. We won’t hurt you anymore.”

Benson’s eyes immediately lit up.

“However—”

The hope vanished from his face.

“You don’t get to humiliate this dojo and simply walk away. If you want to leave, you have to pay back the humiliation you brought upon us.”

Benson swallowed. A terrible feeling settled in his stomach.

Lee Kumlok raised one hand and pointed toward the entrance. Everyone followed his finger.

Just outside the dojo, beside the little stream, lay a pile of dog shit. Benson stared at it, then slowly looked back at Lee Kumlok.

Lee’s expression didn’t change.

“Eat that. If you eat the entire pile, everything that happened today is over. You walk out of here, and none of us will stop you.”

For a moment, nobody said anything.

One disciple who had been standing off to the side looking bored suddenly lit up.

“Yes! That’s perfect! Master, that’s fucking brilliant!”

Before Benson could even react, the excited disciple rushed outside, crouched beside the pile, and scooped it up with his bare hand. He hurried back into the dojo and tossed it onto the floor in front of Benson.

The lump hit the ground, bounced once, spun around twice, and came to a stop. A faint puff of dark, powdery dust rose around it.

The disciples immediately reacted. A few covered their noses, two took a step back, and several others frowned at the thing on the floor with obvious disgust. Even the disciple who had brought it in instinctively leaned away.

Benson, still on all fours, stared at the pile in horror. Goosebumps rose across his skin, and his stomach turned. He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like he might throw up.

Oh shit… What the hell have I gotten myself into? I’m doomed.

The disciple grinned at him.

“There you go. Eat up.”

The other disciples began gathering around Benson, watching with growing interest.

“Come on!”

“Eat it!”

“You can do it!”

Their voices quickly turned into the kind of encouragement normally reserved for an athlete about to attempt something incredible.

Benson stared at the pile in front of him. His whole body trembled as he slowly reached out, stopped, then forced his hand forward again.

His fingers closed around it.

The disciples immediately became more excited.

“Yes! That’s it!”

“Come on! Eat it!”

Benson slowly lifted it toward his mouth.

He brought it closer, stopping twice along the way as if his body were fighting against every inch.

“Come on, Benson!”

“You can do it!”

Finally, he squeezed his eyes shut, opened his mouth, and shoved the whole thing inside.

The disciples burst into cheers.

Benson froze. His cheeks bulged slightly, his eyes watered, and for several seconds, he simply couldn’t make himself swallow.

One disciple crouched in front of him with a grin.

“So? How does it taste?”

Benson slowly raised one trembling thumb.

“Mmm… yummy.”

Benson closed his eyes. His throat moved.

Gulp.

He swallowed.

The disciples immediately burst out laughing and cheering. Someone clapped. Another reached down and gave Benson one last pat on his bowl-cut head.

“Good boy!”

Lee Kumlok finally raised a hand.

“Enough.”

The room gradually settled down.

“It’s over. Everyone, get back to training. Class continues.”

The disciples began returning to their places as if nothing unusual had happened. Within moments, the dojo was slowly returning to normal.

Benson remained on all fours in the middle of the floor, looking sick to his stomach. His face twisted with disgust as he fought the urge to throw up.

It took him a few seconds to realize something.

He was still alive.

Lee Kumlok glanced over at him.

“And you. Get out.”

Benson looked up, still fighting the urge to throw up.

“You… you’re letting me go?”

“Leave. Now.”

Benson remained there for a moment, almost unable to believe it.

Lee Kumlok narrowed his eyes.

“Before I change my mind.”

“AAAAAH!”

Benson scrambled to his feet and bolted for the door. He stumbled on his first step, caught himself, then sprinted out of the dojo as fast as his legs could carry him.

Lee Kumlok stood near the entrance and watched Benson’s figure grow smaller and smaller until he finally disappeared from sight.

Then he turned back toward his disciples.

“Continue.”

The disciples returned to their positions, and the familiar sounds of training soon filled the dojo again.

Outside, the little stream flowed quietly past the entrance. Sunlight shimmered across the water, and a gentle breeze moved through the grass.

Everything looked peaceful.

The entrance to the dojo looked unusually clean and beautiful that afternoon.