Three days later
Baki sat in a taxi, heading to Hayan Taekwondo Dojo for his new job. After three days of constant rest at home, he couldn't stay still anymore.
It had been a while since he'd last seen Hansu Seong. The old man must be grumpy after not seeing him all this time.
The taxi stopped in front of the dojo. Baki got out and paid online.
He pushed open the door to the dojo.
"You're late," a gruff voice called out from the office.
Hansu Seong stepped out in his taekwondo uniform, arms crossed. He had brown hair and brown eyes with smooth eyebrows, and wore semi-rimmed, rectangular eyeglasses.
"What happened to your hand?"
"Tried something new," Baki said, flexing his fingers slowly. They still felt stiff.
Hansu walked closer and grabbed Baki's wrist without asking. He unwrapped part of the bandage and examined the hand, his frown deepening.
"Something new? Looks like you shoved your hand in a fire."
Baki pulled his hand back. "Nah. Why would I do that? Anyway, I already got it treated. Doctor said three months."
"Three months?" Hansu scoffed. "I guess your new technique turned your hand into a missile."
"Something like that."
The old man stared at him for a long moment, then shook his head. "You young people never learn. Always pushing too hard."
He walked back toward the office, waving his hand dismissively. "There's no class today. You can stay here and rest. If any students come, just show them the basics."
"Huh? If you don't have a tutoring session today, then why did you even open the dojang?"
"Taehun comes here from time to time with his friends," Hansu answered, his voice soft. "So I leave it open. Besides, it's not like I have anything else to do."
Baki nodded. The old man was stubborn, but he had his reasons.
---
Baki sat cross-legged in the empty dojo, staring at his bandaged hand.
He had time. Might as well use it.
His mind went through the techniques he'd collected over time. Taesoo Ma's Ultimate Fist, which he'd incorporated into Goutaijutsu—that was done. He'd even created Mach Punch, but his body wasn't ready for it yet. His left hand was proof of that.
Then there were the two techniques he barely used: Overturning Void Technique and Iron Fortress.
Overturning Void needed technique mastery to work properly. Now he had that. Iron Fortress was solid, but it had one massive flaw—grappling. Anyone who got a hold of him could bypass the whole thing.
Baki uncrossed his legs and stood up. He walked to the center of the training area.
"What if I flip it?"
Iron Fortress made the body hard. Immovable. A wall.
What if instead of being hard, he became soft? Not weak—soft. Like water. Like air.
He closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders, then his arms, his chest, his core.
Complete relaxation.
When a punch hit a rigid body, all that force transferred into damage. But if the body had no resistance, the punch would just pass through. No impact. No energy transfer.
He thought of a tree in a storm versus grass in a storm. The tree snaps. The grass bends and survives.
That was the idea.
He called it Defensive Xiaoli. The body becomes light, weightless, as if it lost all mass. But it doesn't just dodge—it absorbs the attacker's weight entirely. The opponent's force sinks into nothing.
Baki opened his eyes and threw a slow punch at the air, imagining an opponent. He let his body go completely loose at the moment of contact. His fist barely moved forward. All the tension drained out.
It felt wrong. Unnatural. Every instinct told him to tighten up, to brace.
But that was the point.
He tried again, looser this time. His arm felt like a wet towel.
"Okay. That's the defense."
Now for the counter.
Overturning Void Technique redirected an attack back at the opponent, using their own force against them.
If he combined that with Defensive Xiaoli, he could absorb the hit with zero resistance, then instantly reverse it. Take their weight, their momentum, and throw it back.
But there was more.
Extreme relaxation could generate explosive power. That was Offensive Xiaoli—the opposite of defense. Instead of absorbing weight, you put your entire body weight into a single strike.
It was the same principle athletes used. Relax the muscles right before impact, then explode. The contrast created devastating force.
Baki threw another punch, this time snapping his body from complete relaxation into full tension at the last second.
The air cracked.
He grinned.
"That's it."
Defensive Xiaoli to absorb and nullify. Offensive Xiaoli to counter with maximum force.
Together, they formed one technique: Xiaoli. Power of Disappearance.
You become untouchable by becoming nothing. Then you hit back with everything.
Baki paced the dojo, working through the theory in his head.
The hard part wasn't the concept—it was execution. Relaxing the body on command, perfectly, in the middle of a fight? That took insane control. And switching from total relaxation to full tension in a split second? Even harder.
But he had Technique Mastery now. That changed things.
He'd need to drill this until it became instinct, until his body could shift between soft and hard without thinking.
Baki stopped pacing and looked at his bandaged hand again.
"Well, I've got time on my hands. Might as well be productive."