97 Combat Teacher (1/2)

At two in the afternoon, outside of a simple two-storied building that was in disrepair at the outskirts of the North Borough.

Klein, who was in his probationary inspector uniform, looked at the weed-filled garden and the vines that had crept up the walls. He turned his head in surprise.

”My combat instructor lives here?”

Shouldn't a combat artist who was selected by the Nighthawks be exceptional...

Leonard Mitchell, who had guided Klein there, snickered and said, ”Don't underestimate Mr. Gawain because of his residence's surroundings. Although he was never conferred an aristocratic title, he was a true knight back in the day.”

Having said that, the poetic Nighthawk, who was dressed in a white shirt, black trousers, and buttonless leather boots suddenly felt melancholic.

”He was active during the waning era of the knights. The warriors donning their armors would storm through enemy ranks despite the gunfire and cannon fire, destroying their enemies and redefining the battle lines. But alas, they were quickly met with the invention of the high-pressure steam guns and six-barrel machine guns. From then on, the knights had to gradually step down.

”Mr. Gawain met the same fate. More than twenty years ago, the Awwa Knights' Order of Chivalry faced the most advanced weaponry of the Intis Republic army... Sigh, every time I recall this, it seems like I'm touching the dust heaps of history. The poet in me stirs when thinking of this irreversible and fated destiny, but alas, I do not know how to compose the poem.”

...Then what's the point in saying so much? Klein acted oblivious to Leonard's self-deprecation and gave a serious suggestion, ”My university schoolmate once told me that the composing of poems requires a certain degree of talent. It's best you start by reading the Classical Poems Anthology of the Loen Kingdom.”

Leonard's mood changed on a whim. He replied with a light-hearted tone, ”I purchased that book a long time ago, as well as other titles, such as the Selected Poems of Emperor Roselle. I will work hard to become a true Midnight Poet, Mr. Seer”

Is he hinting at the... acting method? Klein replied, as though he couldn't understand him, ”You would still need books on grammar.”

”Alright, let's enter.” Leonard extended his hand and pushed open the half-closed metallic gates. The two of them then followed the path towards the house.

They were still a distance away from the house when Klein saw a tall man walking out from behind the main door.

He had short blond hair, his brows already laced with white hairs. His facial features looked like they had been ravaged through age, his wrinkles were etched deep across his face.

”What are you doing here?” the aged man asked in a deep voice.

”Mr. Gawain, as per your contract with the police department, this probationary inspector will be learning the art of combat under your guidance,” Leonard explained with a smile.

”Combat? There's no need to study combat in this era.” Gawain looked at Klein with turbid eyes and said in a dead voice, ”You should learn how to draw your gun and shoot. You should master the most advanced weaponry.”

Was this the psychological trauma caused by the six-barrel machine guns and high-pressure steam guns? Klein didn't give a reckless reply; instead, he smiled and looked at Leonard.

”The art of combat is still a skill a policeman has to master. Most of the criminals we face are not those who must be executed on the spot. Some might not even have weapons. In that case, we have to rely on combat techniques,” Leonard said, obviously prepared for the situation.

With a dark expression, Gawain fell silent for more than ten seconds before saying, ”Throw a punch.”

He was speaking to Klein.

Klein, who was not holding his cane, remembered the boxing matches he had seen in his previous life. He raised his arm and threw it forward.

Gawain's lips twitched indiscernibly. He thought for a moment and said, ”Kick.”

Tilting to the side slightly and twisting his hips, Klein tightened his thigh muscles and kicked forward with his right foot.

Cough... Gawain covered his mouth and cleared his throat. He looked at Leonard and said, ”I will honor my contract. But based on his foundation, he needs to come here four times a week, three hours each time, for the first month.”

”You're the combat expert. It's up to you.” Leonard nodded without hesitation. He smiled and said to Klein, ”See you at dinner.”

After Leonard walked out the metallic gates, Klein asked out of curiosity, ”Instructor, how should I begin practicing? Punching, or footwork?”

As a qualified keyboard warrior, he understood the importance of footwork in combat.

Gawain stood akimbo as he shook his head lethargically.

”What you need now is strength training.

”See those? Those are two dumbbells made of steel. They shall be your partners for today.

”Other than that, you also have to practice deep squats, running, and rope-skipping. Let us take those one set at a time.”

While Klein was still in a daze, Gawain suddenly raised his voice and said sternly, ”Understood?”

”Understood!” At this moment, Klein felt as though he had returned to military training and was facing an inhumane instructor.

”Change out of your clothes. There's a set of knight's training clothes on the sofa.” Gawain suddenly sighed. He turned around and walked toward the black steel dumbbells.

...

Six in the evening, at a corner table of the Old Will Restaurant.

Other than Frye, who was guarding Chanis Gate, all the members of the Blackthorn Security Company were present. There were six Nighthawks and five civilian staff.

A white tablecloth was draped over the long table. Waiters carried over plates of food, portioned them before serving them to each individual guest.

Klein saw steaks drenched in black pepper sauce. He saw bacon, sausages paired with mashed potatoes, egg puddings, asparagus, and specialty cheeses. He even saw rose-colored champagne. However, he had no appetite. The training in the afternoon had nearly made him vomit.

Noticing the pale, newly-inducted Nighthawk with turbid eyes, Dunn raised the glass of red wine in front of him and laughed.

”Let us welcome our newest official member, Klein Moretti, cheers!”