80: Chapter 80 "I want to prove that modern combat is stronger than traditional martial arts"

The Declaration of War in the Holographic Projection

The morning light in the training hall had just washed over the bluestone slabs when Lin Mo's tactical tablet suddenly emitted a shrill alarm. The homepage of the Global Martial Arts System was occupied by a holographic projection. In the image, a man wearing a silver-white fighting suit, his right fist fitted with a specialized pressure sensor, was pounding his fist against the virtual characters for "traditional martial arts"—this was Rosen, the newly appointed head coach of the Fighting League and former technical consultant to Zhang Hao, whose left arm was implanted with a neural chip capable of analyzing an opponent's movement trajectory in real time.

"The reaction speed of traditional martial arts is too slow," Rosen's mechanical prosthetic eye flashed with red light in the projection, and the sensors showed his punching speed had exceeded 20 punches per second. "Chen Wu only managed to beat Zhang Hao by relying on that metaphysical nonsense called Qi Energy."

The holographic projection suddenly exploded into a cascade of data streams, as the Moves of the various traditional martial arts Schools were dismantled into codes of 0s and 1s. "Look closely, this is what scientific fighting is—strength, speed, reaction; everything can be quantified!"

He suddenly threw a punch, and the virtual character for "Martial" shattered upon impact. The fragments transformed into countless jumping digits, forming a line of provocative text in the air: "72 hours from now, at the New Fighting Center, we will bury tradition with data."

Officer Zhang's law enforcement recorder was aimed at the new billboard at the entrance of the alley. On the poster that had been changed just last night, the same provocative text was written beside a giant photo of Rosen. The veteran policeman suddenly zoomed in on the fine print in the corner of the poster; that serial number matched the Grey Shadow Qi Energy arsenal perfectly. "The Technical Department has cross-referenced it; his neural chip uses Grey Shadow's prohibited algorithms and can predict an opponent's movements within 500 milliseconds."

The law enforcement device suddenly played a recording—a conversation between Rosen and a Grey Shadow technician: "As long as you can take down traditional martial arts, you can use that batch of 'Spirit-Devourer' sensors as you please..." The veteran policeman's knuckles turned white as he uploaded the recording to the encrypted channel of the Special Incident Response Department.

Grandpa Wang's dry tobacco pipe tapped a dull thud against the camphor wood chest. The old man dug out the 1956 "Martial Arts Yearbook," a page of which recorded the first clash between traditional martial arts and modern fighting—Chen Wu's grandfather had used Taiji Cloud Hands to neutralize a boxing champion's combination punches. Post-match technical analysis showed that hidden within those seemingly slow movements were 17 micro-adjustments.

"That foreigner knows nothing," the pipe bowl pointed at Rosen's projection. "He thinks data can calculate every Move in the world? That's exactly how his Master lost to your grandfather back in the day."

The old man suddenly pulled a yellowed videotape from the bottom of the chest and shoved it into an old-fashioned projector. On screen, the young father of Rosen was easily taken down by the grandfather's "Eighteen Falls of Touching Clothes," and after the match, he shook the grandfather's hand and said, "The skillful force of traditional martial arts cannot be calculated by data."

When the armored vehicle of the Special Incident Response Department stopped at the entrance of the alley, the Chief of the Enforcement Division walked over quickly, holding a metal box. The holographic sand table inside the box was simulating the structure of the New Fighting Center, and red light flickered in the laboratory on the third basement level—that was where the "Counter-field" generator capable of interfering with Qi Energy was hidden.

"Rosen's sponsor is a biotechnology company under Grey Shadow," the Section Chief pulled up a fund flow chart. "They have hidden micro Qi Energy absorbers in the sensors, which can devour 30% of internal strength upon contact."

She suddenly pointed to a red dot on the sand table. "This is the core of the Counter-field. It can be destroyed using Brute Force Qi Energy, but it requires someone to provide support from the inside."

In the Flower Girl's basket, the leaves of the inheritance grass suddenly twisted into the shape of a data stream. Dewdrops rolled across the leaf surface, reflecting images of Rosen's training: every punch he threw strictly followed an algorithm, yet he revealed a 0.3-second vulnerability when turning.

The little girl dripped nectar from a ming jin orchid onto the leaves, and the twisted patterns suddenly relaxed. "Elder Zhou says this is the 'Calculation-Breaking Flower,'" her fingertip lightly touched a dewdrop. "It can calculate the blind spots of all algorithms, just like finding a vulnerability in numbers."

A set of data suddenly appeared on the leaf, precisely marking the time of Rosen's vulnerability during every turn, perfectly matching the System analysis on Lin Mo's tablet.

Chen Wu's peace lock suddenly resonated with the Bronze Token. When his Qi Energy was injected into Lin Mo's tablet, Rosen's movement trajectory suddenly slowed down on the screen—the System automatically marked 19 movements that relied on chip prediction, 7 of which coincided with the location of Zhang Hao's old injury.

The prompt for "Martial Arts Deduction" rang in his mind: "Opponent's movement pattern detected as stylized; suggest using 'irregular variation Moves'."

In the small window at the bottom right of the tablet, A-Mings younger sister was wearing her newly made practice uniform, using building blocks to construct a miniature fighting ring. The peace lock wooden plaque swayed gently on her wrist, and the little girl held up a cardboard sign that read "Go for it," shouting in a milky voice at the camera: "Brother Chen Wu, use Crushing Fist to hit him!"

Traditional Wisdom in a Data Cage

The glass curtain wall of the New Fighting Center reflected the blinding sunlight. Rosen stood in the central arena, his silver-white fighting suit covered in sensors, and the neural chip on his left arm flickered with blue light—real-time data streams pulsed before his eyes; Chen Wu's breathing frequency, stride frequency, and even the number of times he blinked were all quantified into numbers.

The electronic screen on the spectator stand displayed the odds: 1 to 1.2 for Rosen, 1 to 5 for Chen Wu; 2 billion in funds had already poured into the Grey Shadow betting pool.

"I'll let you attack first for three Moves," Rosen's mechanical prosthetic eye suddenly zoomed in, and the sensors emitted a buzzing sound. "My algorithm has already recorded all your Moves, including that flashy Crushing Fist."

His right foot tapped lightly on the ground, calculating the optimal defensive angle based on the data model. The pressure sensors under his feet transmitted the changes in his center of gravity in real time, and the neural chip performed 1,000 calculations per second to ensure it could precisely neutralize any attack.

He failed to notice that Chen Wu's peace lock was absorbing sunlight. Cyan-gold Qi Energy condensed into a miniature ball of light in his palm, and within the light ball, countless tiny vortices were vaguely visible—that was the sign of the Fusion of the Crushing Fist's hard force and Taiji's soft force.

The moment the first punch clashed, Rosen's sensors suddenly emitted a shrill alarm. Chen Wu's Crushing Fist did not follow the conventional trajectory; instead, it suddenly sank before contact, and the white soft force wound its way up along his ankle—the data stream indicated this was an "impossible variation Move," and the chip's prediction lagged by 0.5 seconds.

When the cyan-gold Qi Energy struck the sensor, the power value on the electronic screen suddenly jumped erratically, finally settling on an absurd number: it was neither traditional hard force nor did it match the impact of modern fighting.

A crack suddenly appeared on Rosen's alloy glove, caused by the internal stress generated after the soft force penetrated. He stared at the glove in disbelief, and for the first time, the data stream of his neural chip experienced a malfunction.

"Cheating!" Rosen's roar was filled with frustration. He suddenly activated the overclocking mode of the chip in his left arm, and the data stream before his eyes turned into a blinding red light—all movement predictions were advanced to 1 second.

But Chen Wu's footsteps suddenly became elusive, sometimes following the Nine Palace Steps, sometimes taking irregular, short steps, as if dancing an ancient dance. The Flower Girl's Calculation-Breaking Flower projection unfolded beneath his feet, each petal corresponding to an operation cycle of the chip, catching exactly the gap between data stream updates.

When Rosen's combination punches struck, Chen Wu's body suddenly undulated like a wave. His seemingly slow movements always managed to dodge attacks by a hair's breadth, and the light of the peace lock flickered with the rhythm of his movements, leaving behind trails of cyan-gold afterimages in the air.

When the bell for the second round rang, the Counter-field on the third basement level suddenly activated. Chen Wu's Qi Energy became sluggish the moment it touched the blue light, and the light of the peace lock dimmed slightly.

Rosen's combination punches arrived with a whistling wind, and black Qi Energy flickered on the sensors—that was Grey Shadow's "Spirit-Devourer" coating, devouring internal strength with every collision.

Zhang Hao on the spectator stand suddenly stood up, his left hand tightly gripping the gloves left behind by his grandfather, his knuckles white from the exertion: "Use 'Eighteen Falls of Touching Clothes'! His algorithm can't calculate unloading force!" The old champion's voice carried through the crowd with a hint of excitement, as if he himself had returned to the arena of the past.

Chen Wu's Qi Energy suddenly became as soft as water. When Rosen's iron fist was about to strike his chest, his body floated backward like a leaf, and his right hand lightly tapped along the opponent's arm—hidden within the seemingly slow movement were seven micro-adjustments, just enough to avoid the monitoring range of the sensors.

Rosen's center of gravity suddenly went out of control, and the data stream displayed "Balance parameter abnormal." Before the chip's remedial command could be issued, he had already stumbled forward three meters, his back slamming heavily against the glass curtain wall.

The curtain wall cracked like a spiderweb upon impact, and a trace of blood spilled from the corner of Rosen's mouth. Only then did he realize that while Chen Wu's movements seemed casual, every subtle adjustment was precisely disrupting his balance.

"This is impossible!" Glitchy code flashed across Rosen's mechanical prosthetic eye. He suddenly pressed the hidden button on his fighting suit, and all the sensors simultaneously erupted with black Qi Energy, weaving a poisonous net in the center of the arena—Grey Shadow's "Qi-Locking Formation," which could prevent the trapped person's internal strength from circulating.

But Chen Wu's peace lock suddenly erupted with scorching light. The cyan-gold Qi Energy snaked through the meshes of the net, exploding the moment it touched the black Qi Energy, burning a circular hole in the poisonous net, the edges of which glowed with a faint golden light.

That was the Vitality Force of the third variation of "Crushing Fist," which now transformed into a sharp blade to break the formation. In the golden light, countless tiny specks of light were vaguely visible dancing; that was the purified black Qi Energy.

[part:gemini-3.0-flash]

In the decisive moment of the third round, Rosen's neural chip suddenly issued an alarm. A continuous series of prediction errors caused the chip's temperature to exceed the threshold, and the skin on his left arm flushed an abnormal crimson. His sensors showed that Chen Wu's Qi Energy intensity was dropping, yet it eerily surged back after every collision—that was the Vitality Energy from the third transformation of the 'Crushing Fist,' slowly repairing the devoured inner energy along the points of contact. Rosen's breathing became rapid, and the red light in his mechanical prosthetic eye flickered fitfully. He knew that if he couldn't win soon, not only would the chip be completely scrapped, but he would also have no way to answer to Grey Shadow.

"Ultimate Algorithm, activate!" Rosen's roar carried the desperation of a man burning his bridges. All data streams merged into a white light before his eyes, predicting all of Chen Wu's movements for the next ten seconds, including the trajectory of his Qi Energy flow. His alloy iron fist, wreathed in black Qi Energy, shot out, strictly following the angle, power, and timing set by the algorithm to strike precisely at Chen Wu's weakness—the 'Guaranteed Hit Node' calculated by the System. The spectators held their breath, and the data on Grey Shadow's betting pool fluctuated wildly; everyone thought this contest was about to end.

At the very instant before contact, Chen Wu's movements suddenly came to a complete standstill. Cyan-gold Qi Energy condensed into a transparent cocoon around his body, neither attacking nor defending, like an ancient statue. Rosen's data stream instantly fell into chaos; 'Target Action Missing' warnings flashed frantically as the chip's remedial programs crashed from overload. Just as the iron fist was about to strike the Qi cocoon, Chen Wu's eyes suddenly blinked—this meaningless little action caused all predictions to fail completely. In that moment of blinking, it was as if time itself stood still, leaving only the sound of the two men's breathing and the sizzling of the overloaded chip in the arena.

The moment the Qi cocoon exploded, everyone saw Chen Wu's Move clearly. It wasn't any known traditional martial arts movement, but a Fusion of Taiji's force-deflection, Xingyi's ferocity, and even the explosive power of Zhang Hao's iron fist. The cyan-gold Qi Energy suddenly split upon contact with Rosen, and thirty-six silken strands of Qi Energy tunneled into the sensor gaps like living things, precisely severing the circuits of the Spirit-Devourer coating. Rosen's alloy iron fist lost power the moment it touched the Qi strands, and the neural chip's overload caused his left arm to lose all sensation. He looked at his fist in disbelief—the once invincible iron fist was now nothing more than a heavy piece of scrap metal.

"What Move is this?" Rosen's mechanical prosthetic eye went completely dark. Chen Wu's palm pressed gently against his chest; there was no violent impact, only a gentle stream of Qi Energy traveling along his Meridians, forcing out the neurotoxins produced by the chip—it was the Vitality Energy of the 'Crushing Fist's' third transformation, yet used here like the 'Stick' technique of Taiji. Rosen felt a warm current surging through his body, and the chronic pain left by years of chip modifications gradually vanished. Only then did he realize that the strength he had always pursued was not cold data and hard alloy, but this kind of Qi Energy that could be both hard and soft, capable of both harming and healing.

The electronic screen in the center of the arena suddenly switched images. Lin Mo's tactical tablet had hacked into the System and was broadcasting a conversation between Rosen and a Grey Shadow technician: "As long as we can prove traditional martial arts are useless, the patent for the Counter-field will be ours..." The spectators erupted in angry boos. Grey Shadow's betting System suddenly crashed, and 2 billion in funds were automatically frozen and transferred to the Mutant Mutual Aid Association's account. Rosen's face turned deathly pale. He finally understood that he was merely a tool used by Grey Shadow to strike at traditional martial arts; the so-called 'Scientific Fighting' had been full of conspiracy from the start.

As Rosen removed the non-functional neural chip, a look of confusion appeared in his eyes for the first time. Chen Wu's peace lock lightly touched his left arm as the cyan-gold Qi Energy repaired the damage caused by the chip. "Your grandfather told mine back then," Chen Wu's voice carried a gentle strength, "data can calculate power, but it cannot calculate the human heart; algorithms can predict movements, but they cannot predict Legacy." Rosen looked at his left arm, where the skin was regaining its color. He suddenly remembered the videotapes his father had shown him as a child and the words his father had said: "True fighting is an exchange between hearts, not a competition of data."

Section 4: New Sprouts of traditional martial arts in the Data Stream

The glass curtain wall of the New Fighting Center shimmered with golden light in the sunset. Rosen sat by the arena, watching technicians dismantle the Counter-field generator, the warmth of the Qi Energy still lingering in his left arm. Zhang Hao wheeled himself in, holding a new training plan—a recovery program modified with traditional martial arts Breathing Exercises, with each movement annotated with modern exercise physiology explanations. "This 'Bear Frolic' Move can repair nerve damage," the former fighting champion's left hand pressed lightly on Rosen's shoulder, "it's more effective than any chip." Rosen looked at the movements on the training plan and suddenly realized that those seemingly ancient Moves shared the same principles as modern rehabilitation training.

Lin Mo's tactical tablet suddenly popped up a System notification. The fighting section of the Global Martial Arts System had added a 'traditional martial arts Modernization' column. Chen Wu's Fusion Move from earlier was broken down into a 3D model, with each movement accompanied by biomechanical analysis. The boy's fingertips slid across the screen; A-Ming's younger sister's virtual avatar was practicing a simplified version. The System's automatically generated correction prompts included both the traditional 'Power starts from the ground' and modern 'Core power' theories. The bullet comments on the tablet scrolled rapidly, with a fighting enthusiast asking: "Can this Move be added to MMA training?" Lin Mo replied with a smile: "traditional martial arts have never been a secret, as long as you are willing to learn."

The armored vehicle of the Special Incident Response Department honked its horn three times outside the center. The Section Chief of the Enforcement Division walked in holding a cooperation agreement, which bore the joint signatures of the Council of Tomb Guardians and the International Fighting League. "We are going to establish a new Martial Arts Research Center," her tablet displayed a new curriculum, "teaching traditional martial arts Qi Energy theory in the morning and sports anatomy in the afternoon, truly combining hardness and softness." A smile played on the Section Chief's face; she had never imagined that a seemingly confrontational contest could lead to such cooperation. Perhaps this was the charm of martial arts—always finding the possibility of Fusion within conflict.

In the Flower Girl's basket, Broken Calculation Flowers and ming jin orchids bloomed intertwined. The young girl scattered freshly picked petals onto the arena; each petal that landed on the bluestone floor turned into a golden data stream, forming a complete circle with the Qi Energy trajectories of traditional martial arts. Elder Zhou's holographic image appeared among the flowers, his finger tracing an arc on the virtual screen: "This is true progress—not about who defeats whom, but about making numbers understand Qi Energy and letting the ancient learn new knowledge." The image gradually faded, leaving behind a faint floral scent intertwined with the Qi Energy in the arena, forming a wonderful harmony.

Grandpa Wang's dry tobacco pipe traced a golden arc in the sunset. The old man pulled an old-fashioned abacus from a camphor wood chest, the sound of the beads clacking forming a strange harmony with Rosen's data stream. "Your grandfather said it back in 1956," the pipe pointed at the new cooperation agreement, "traditional martial arts are not old antiques; they are old trees capable of growing new branches." He suddenly reset the abacus beads, and the numbers on the abacus formed the character for 'Martial,' perfectly matching the inscription on Chen Wu's Bronze Token. Sunlight streamed through the window onto the abacus, and those ancient beads seemed to emit a cyan-gold light, telling the story of Legacy.

As Chen Wu walked out of the New Fighting Center, Rosen's mechanical prosthetic eye suddenly lit up with a faint glow. Although he still couldn't exert force with his left arm, he could clearly feel the flow of Qi Energy—it was the seed left by the Vitality Energy, slowly sprouting at his nerve endings. "I want to learn martial arts again," the former head coach's voice carried an unprecedented seriousness, "without chips, without algorithms, just with these hands." Chen Wu nodded with a smile and handed him a copy of his grandfather's 'Manual of Fist Techniques.' The characters on the pages seemed to come alive in the sunset, pointing toward a new direction.

The homepage of the Global Martial Arts System changed to a new image: the background was a rotating Earth, overlaid with both the Qi Energy Meridians of traditional martial arts and the data grids of modern fighting, the two intertwining into a global network. In the very center, Chen Wu's Crushing Fist and Rosen's straight punch collided in virtual space, producing not smoke, but a sky full of golden data streams, with a cyan-gold Qi Energy sprout hidden within every number. A new line of text appeared on the System's bulletin board: "traditional martial arts and Modern Fighting Joint Training Camp, registration opens next week."

When the final System prompt popped up, a video call from A-Ming's younger sister suddenly connected. The little girl held up a special training sensor showing the data of the simplified Crushing Fist she had performed, with a small note written in red pen next to it: "Traditional 80 points, Modern 80 points, added together 160 points!" Outside the hospital window, Zhang Hao was accompanying Rosen as he practiced the basic Three-Body Stance. The two former rivals moved in perfect unison, their shadows stretched long by the sunset like twin trees growing from the same root.

Chen Wu suddenly understood that the true meaning of this contest was not to prove that traditional martial arts were stronger than modern fighting, but to let two seemingly opposing wisdoms find resonance.