Chapter 3 - The Punch That Never Landed
The fist came fast.
The tallest bully swung with all the confidence of someone who had frightened people his entire life. He aimed for the old fisherman's face, expecting one brutal punch to end the morning and remind everyone who controlled the lake.
But the punch never landed.
The old fisherman stepped aside by only a few inches. His body turned with quiet precision, and the bully's fist cut through empty air. Before the young man could recover, the fisherman gently touched his wrist and guided his arm downward.
It did not look violent.
It did not even look difficult.
Yet the bully suddenly lost balance and slammed one knee onto the dock.
The sound echoed across the water.
His two friends froze.
The old fisherman released him immediately and took one step back.
"I told you to leave," he said.
The tallest bully looked up, shocked and humiliated. His face turned red. He had expected fear, not embarrassment in front of everyone.
"You got lucky," he growled.
He stood and charged again, this time throwing both hands forward to grab the old man by the jacket.
The fisherman did not retreat.
He caught the bully's sleeve, turned his shoulder, and used the young man's own weight against him. In the next second, the bully crashed sideways onto the dock, hard enough to shake the loose boards beneath them.
A child standing near the shore gasped.
One of the other bullies cursed and rushed forward.
The fisherman lifted the fishing rod—not to strike, but to block the chain swinging toward him. Metal wrapped around bamboo with a sharp crack. The old man's eyes sharpened for the first time.
"That was foolish," he said.
The bully pulled the chain, but the fisherman twisted the rod, trapping the links. With one firm motion, he yanked the chain from the young man's hand and sent it sliding across the dock.
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Now all three bullies understood something was wrong.
This was not a helpless old man.
