The Underwear Meets the Fallen Legend

Section 1: Protein Bubble Tea

At the far end of Kung Flu Tea, beside a large window facing the street, Seahorse Mouth and Four Eyes sat side by side, drinking bubble tea and gossiping loudly without a care in the world.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and Dave walked in. Neither of them noticed him. With their backs facing the rest of the shop, they simply kept talking.

Dave ordered a large protein bubble tea and took a seat several tables behind them. After his fight with Sean, his muscles needed plenty of protein to recover.

He took a long sip. As the rich, protein-packed milk tea slid down his throat, Dave could almost feel the nutrients spreading through his body, feeding the damaged muscle fibers and slowly repairing them from within. Satisfied, he leaned back in his chair, clasped both hands behind his head, and gazed lazily at the ceiling.

“Ahh… it feels good to just sit back and relax once in a while, away from all the fighting,” he muttered. “Even the strongest man in the world needs a little peace and quiet sometimes.”

From the far end of the shop, Seahorse Mouth suddenly raised his voice. “Really?! You’ve got to be kidding me. No way!”

“Of course,” Four Eyes replied. All four of his eyes were bright with excitement as he leaned a little closer to his friend. “Khan may be at the pinnacle of the Kung Fu world now, but back then, there were three others just as powerful as him, if not more. Haven’t you heard of the Four Kings of the old Kung Fu world? They were legends.”

Seahorse Mouth pulled his long, tube-shaped mouth out of his bubble tea with a soft slurp. “How strong?” he asked. “Like… compared to Canelo?”

“Canelo?” Four Eyes gave him a look with all four eyes. “Get out of here. He’s nothing.”

“What about Sean?”

Four Eyes paused for a moment. “Sean? They could beat him with one finger.”

Sean?

Dave had always thought Sean might be one of the strongest fighters in the world—maybe second only to himself. And now these two were saying the Four Kings could beat him with one finger?

Dave’s eyes opened. His hands dropped from behind his head as he leaned forward in his chair, tilting his head slightly toward the two boys.

Section 2: Four Kings

“Four Kings?” Seahorse Mouth asked, now a little more interested. “Who were they?”

“East Frank. West Joshua. North Khan. South Mario,” Four Eyes said, counting them off as he spoke. “Frank, Joshua, and Khan were martial brothers, trained under the same master. Mario was the only outsider.”

“So all four of them were monsters?”

“Pretty much.” Four Eyes took another sip before continuing. “Frank was famous for his movement. The guy barely even walked—he glided everywhere using Qi. Oh, and for some reason, he always wore shirts with FUCKLIN printed across the front instead of FRANKLIN. Maybe someone made them as a joke. Maybe it was a typo. Nobody really knows. Frank himself never seemed to care.”

Seahorse Mouth stopped drinking for a moment, apparently trying to picture a legendary Kung Fu master gliding around in a FUCKLIN shirt.

Four Eyes continued as if there were nothing strange about it. “Joshua was born with golden armor instead of normal skin. Mario was some kind of ninja who moved like a shadow. And Khan…” He shrugged. “Well, you already know Khan.”

Seahorse Mouth stared out the window for a moment, then looked back at him. “Damn. What the hell happened to all of them?”

“It’s a long story.” Four Eyes settled back in his chair. “Joshua and Mario fought for an entire day and night. Mario’s blade pierced straight through Joshua’s chest and destroyed one of his lungs. Joshua answered with a kick that shattered Mario’s right leg. And even after that, they were still dead even.”

Seahorse Mouth slowly pulled his tube-shaped mouth out of the bubble tea, “Holy shit.”

“They probably would’ve recovered if they’d gone to a real hospital.” Four Eyes paused. “Unfortunately, Mildy happened to be passing by.”

Seahorse Mouth immediately looked at him. “Mildy? The unlicensed doctor?”

“Yeah. Except he wasn’t even a doctor back then. He was a mechanic.” Four Eyes lowered his drink. “He found an old steel pipe, shoved it straight into the hole in Joshua’s chest, and somehow sealed the wound perfectly around it. Then he grabbed a car exhaust pipe and bolted it onto Mario’s shattered leg.”

Seahorse Mouth stared at him.

Four Eyes stared back with all four eyes.

“Somehow, both of them survived,” Four Eyes continued. He shook his head. “But Mildy’s repairs permanently crippled them. Neither ever returned to their prime.”

Section 3: Fallen Frank

Several tables away, Dave slowly stopped drinking.

“And Frank?” Seahorse Mouth asked after a moment. “What happened to him?”

Four Eyes went quiet. The excitement in his four eyes faded slightly. “Frank was different. He didn’t lose a fight. He just… stopped fighting.”

“Why?”

“Years ago, something happened. He accidentally killed his childhood fiancée with a single move.” Four Eyes lowered his voice. “After that, he abandoned Kung Fu completely, disappeared from the martial arts world, and swore he would never fight again.”

Seahorse Mouth’s expression changed. “So what does he do now?”

Four Eyes shrugged. “Who knows? I heard he became a plumber. Someone else said he delivers food. Some people even say he cleans toilets for a living.”

Seahorse Mouth took another slow sip, still processing the fall of a legendary martial artist.

Then Four Eyes rubbed his chin, and all four of his eyes suddenly became serious. “But actually… last time I went to the Forbidden Garden, I saw Frank there.”

That immediately got Seahorse Mouth’s attention.

Four Eyes leaned slightly closer.

“He became a prostitute.”

“Say WHAT?!”

The tapioca pearl in Seahorse Mouth’s mouth shot straight through his tiny, tube-shaped lips like a bullet.

SMACK!

It slammed into the window with ridiculous force, cracking the glass on impact before sticking firmly to it. If it had hit someone in the head, it probably would have killed them.

Both boys stared at the pearl. It was ridiculous, but also strangely dangerous. Four Eyes suddenly felt very fortunate that Seahorse Mouth hadn’t been facing him when he spat it out.

Four Eyes wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and took a few seconds to steady himself. Then he forced out a faint laugh.

“Heh… just kidding, man. I’ve never even been to the Forbidden Garden. That place is way too expensive for me. I can only afford Sakura Spa.”

Seahorse Mouth wiped his mouth and glared at him. Four Eyes avoided his gaze and quietly took another sip of bubble tea, still looking a little pale.

From there, their conversation quickly drifted away from Kung Fu. Four Eyes started complaining about Seahorse Mouth’s ridiculous tube-shaped mouth and the sheer force it could produce, while Seahorse Mouth fired back about Four Eyes’s four eyes and how they frightened little kids. Somehow, their argument eventually shifted to massage parlors, then sex, and finally porn. Within minutes, the Four Kings were completely forgotten.

Dave finished his protein bubble tea and left Kung Flu Tea.

As he walked down the street, something Four Eyes had said suddenly came back to him. Dave slowed down.

“Shit…” he muttered. “Wasn’t the doctor I saw yesterday that same unlicensed doctor?”

He remembered lying on the table while Mildy casually squeezed industrial-strength glue into the tears between his damaged muscle fibers, sealing them back together as if he were repairing a broken chair. At the time, the treatment had seemed to work.

Then he remembered Joshua’s steel pipe.

Mario’s car exhaust leg.

Mildy had technically repaired them too.

Dave’s face gradually went pale. What if the industrial glue had only sealed his muscles together without actually healing them? What if Mildy had already caused some kind of permanent damage that he simply hadn’t noticed yet?

“Wait a minute… am I going to lose my fighting ability too, just like those two?”

Cold sweat broke out across his entire body.

Dave instinctively clenched his butt cheeks and kept walking.

Section 4: FUCKLIN Scooter

Then a loud buzzing sound came from farther down the sidewalk. Dave looked up and saw a red scooter rolling toward him.

The rider was an overweight middle-aged man with a huge round belly. His white shirt was so tight that it couldn’t cover the whole thing, leaving the bottom of his belly hanging out. One hand rested loosely on the handlebar while the other was buried deep inside his nose, digging away with slow, absent-minded movements. His face remained completely blank as the scooter buzzed steadily down the sidewalk.

As the scooter came closer, Dave noticed the faded black letters stretched across the man’s enormous belly:

FUCKLIN

Dave’s expression immediately changed.

He stepped into the middle of the sidewalk and spread both arms wide, blocking the scooter’s path.

Frank continued forward for another moment before finally noticing him. His finger came out of his nose.

“Whoa.”

His voice was almost as flat as his expression.

Frank grabbed the brakes with both hands. The brake pads were badly worn, but he had always been too cheap to replace them. The scooter skidded nearly two meters before finally coming to a stop.

Just a hair too late.

The front panel gently grazed Dave’s crotch. A bolt of excruciating pain shot through his entire body. Dave gritted his teeth and endured it, his face perfectly still except for his left cheek, which twitched twice.

Frank looked down at where the scooter had stopped. His eyes rested there for a second before slowly returning to Dave’s face.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead and let out a quiet breath of relief. “Oh, thank God. I stopped just in time. Otherwise, your crotch would’ve…”

His eyes drifted downward again.

Dave remained silent for several seconds, enduring the pain without moving.

“If you had stopped 0.01 seconds earlier,” he finally said through clenched teeth, “that would’ve been great.”

Frank looked at him blankly.

Dave took a few seconds to recover, then straightened himself and studied the man in front of him. The giant belly, the cheap scooter, the tight FUCKLIN shirt—none of it looked anything like the legendary fighter he had imagined.

But Dave remained completely serious.

“You must be Frank,” he said. “East Frank. One of the legendary Four Kings of the old Kung Fu world.”

Frank stared at him for a moment, his face giving away nothing.

“Huh?”

“I heard you were one of the strongest fighters back then,” Dave said. “Fight me.”

Frank casually reached back into his nose. His finger dug around a few times while Dave waited for an answer. He eventually pulled out a large booger and examined it with the same blank expression.

“That was a lifetime ago,” he said. “I don’t fight anymore.”

Dave clenched his fists. “Please. Let me challenge you. Just a light spar. I’ve always wanted to test myself against someone like you.”

Frank rolled the booger between his fingers once, then flicked it away.

It landed squarely on Dave’s pink underwear.

Dave didn’t notice.

Frank did.

His eyes settled on the booger.

Then he looked at Dave.

Then back at the booger.

For a brief moment, his mouth twisted awkwardly to one side in a silent, unmistakable oops. It was the first real expression he had shown.

A few seconds passed. Dave still hadn’t noticed.

Frank’s mouth slowly returned to normal. His face became blank again, as if nothing had happened.

Dave leaned forward, his voice firm. “So, will you fight me?”

Frank casually scratched his crotch. “No, sir.”

He gave the throttle a small twist. “I’ve got food to deliver. My customer’s still waiting. If I’m late, I might get a one-star review.”

Section 5: Two Minutes

Frank twisted the throttle again, ready to leave, but Dave immediately stepped in front of the scooter.

“Frank,” he said, raising two fingers. “Just give me two minutes. That’s all I need. Two minutes.”

Frank stared at him blankly for a moment, then gave a small nod.

“Okay.”

Dave took a deep breath. His expression was completely serious. “I don’t know what happened to you in the past… but it’s been long enough. Don’t you think it’s time to step out of it?”

His fists tightened, his voice rising. “I’ve trained my body every single day for ten years. Ten years, Frank! All for one thing—to become the strongest. Don’t tell me you never felt that fire!”

Dave was completely lost in his own speech now. “I believe in you, Frank. You can rise again—like a phoenix from the ashes! Stronger than before! Greater than ever!”

His voice cracked. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “Come back, Frank! Come back and feel the joy of fighting again! The rush! The power! The glory!”

He reached one hand toward Frank.

“You feel it too… don’t you?”

Silence.

Dave finally returned to reality from his passionate speech. His eyes refocused on the space in front of him.

It was empty.

Frank was gone.

Dave’s hand remained extended for another second.

Far ahead, at the end of the block, Frank sat quietly on his red scooter at a red light, one foot resting on the ground. His face was blank. He looked like an ordinary delivery driver patiently waiting for the light to change.

Dave stared at him for a few seconds. Judging by the distance, Frank must have left quite a while ago.

He had said “Okay” and then driven off almost immediately.

Dave slowly lowered his hand.

“That son of a bitch…” he muttered through gritted teeth. “And he didn’t even listen at all.”

Section 6: Concrete Missile

His eyes dropped to the ground. A jagged chunk of concrete, roughly the size of an apple, lay beside his foot.

Dave bent down, picked it up, and looked toward Frank in the distance. His expression remained serious.

“You want to leave? Fine. Then take this with you.”

He pulled his arm back and hurled the chunk of concrete with all his strength.

The stone tore through the air like a missile, spinning at terrifying speed. Sparks began bursting from its surface as it ripped through the air, leaving a faint trail of smoke behind it as it shot straight toward Frank.

Frank remained at the red light, completely unaware of what was coming from behind him.

CRACK—BOOM!

The chunk of concrete slammed straight into the back of Frank’s head and exploded into a cloud of dust.

Frank’s entire body jolted.

“AAAAAAGHHHH—!!”

His face finally broke from its usual deadpan expression. His eyes squeezed shut as one hand flew to the back of his head.

“Holy mama! That hurts like fuck!”

He rubbed the spot frantically for several seconds, hissing through his teeth as the pain slowly faded. Then his movements gradually slowed. His expression settled back into its usual blank stare.

There was no blood.

No swelling.

Not even a scratch.

Frank glanced back down the street, still rubbing his head, apparently trying to figure out what had just hit him.

Then the light turned green.

He stopped looking.

Frank faced forward, twisted the throttle, stuck a finger back into his nose, and calmly rolled away as if the matter no longer required his attention.

Dave stood frozen on the sidewalk, watching him disappear down the street.

“I don’t know what’s going on anymore,” he muttered.