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“Iron Toad Escapes the Claw of Death by the Seat of His Pants!” the first hunter laughed. “What a great story!”
“I am no toad,” Fu growled. “I am a tiger.”
“Sure you are, kid,” the first hunter replied. “Look, that was pretty amazing what you just did. So out of respect for your skill—and your amazing luck—I'm going to forget that you nearly killed me. Okay? Here, let me give you some of the antiseptic herbs I brought along … BUTT—you're going to have to apply them yourself!”
The first hunter howled with laughter. The second hunter howled along with him.
“I need nothing from your kind!” Fu spat.
Both hunters stopped laughing.
“Excuse me?” the first hunter said. “Our kind, you say? And just what kind would that be?”
“Cowardly peasants with no respect for life!”
The first hunter raised an eyebrow. “Look, little man,” he said, “I just offered to help you after you attacked me for no apparent reason. If you keep this up, you're—”
“Enough!” Fu roared.
The hunters looked at one another, disbelief on their faces. The first hunter slammed the blunt end of his spear into the ground and began to walk around the pit toward Fu. Seeing this, the Gentleman spoke from behind the hunters.
“STOP! Do not take another step. Please.”
The first hunter stopped, and the Gentleman turned to his son beside him. “Do not let this cub get away. Understand?”
The boy nodded his head quietly, and the Gentleman turned toward Fu.
“Excuse me, young man. Just who do you think you are, talking to these men that way? You should treat your elders with respect.”
“I have no respect for their kind,” Fu sneered. “Or for yours. In fact, I am certain I have even less respect for you.”
“Why do you say such things?” the Gentleman asked.
“Why? Because you're planning to kill these tigers! That's why! And because you're pushing your son to do something that he doesn't want to do. What has that cub ever done to him? Or to you? Or to anyone else?”
“It's not what the cub has done,” the Gentleman replied. “It's what he might do.”
“What he might do?” Fu said. “That's crazy!”
“You do not understand, young man. If you would just—”
Fu had heard enough. He roared and ran straight toward the pit, leaping high into the air when he reached the edge. He landed with plenty of room to spare on the other side of the pit and spun around to face his closest opponent—the second hunter. The man stood several paces away, armed with a spear.
Out of the corner of his eye, Fu saw that the first hunter had run around to the opposite side of the pit. The man stepped up to the edge, grasped his spear with both hands, and raised it up as he had done earlier. The tiger growled again and lifted its head, baring its teeth.
“What are you doing?” Fu cried.
“Mind your own business, monk,” the first hunter said. “This hunt doesn't concern you.”
“I'm making it my business!” Fu said.
“Then you will be sorry,” the man replied, and thrust his spear into the tiger's thick neck. The tiger roared no more.
Something inside Fu's head snapped. The world went black before his eyes, and his ears closed themselves off to everything around him. For the rest of his life, Fu would never remember everything that happened next. For the rest of their lives, the others would never forget.
Fu attacked with lightning speed. He lunged at the second hunter so fast, the man only had time to push his spear out before him with both hands held wide, the spear parallel to the ground. It was a pitiful attempt at a defensive maneuver. Fu bent his elbows and drew both hands in to his chest with his wrists flexed up and back. He spread his fingers wide and curled them down and in, like tiger's claws, then exhaled powerfully as he thrust both hands forward, side by side. Fu's palms met the center point of the spear's shaft at full force and the shaft broke in two. His clawlike hands continued forward, clamping down powerfully on the hunter's throat as his weight and momentum sent them both tumbling to the ground. Fu released his right hand—his most powerful hand—and formed a fist. He smashed it into the side of his opponent's head, knocking the man out cold. Fu looked over at the first hunter.
The first hunter yanked his spear out of the tiger, its metal tip dripping blood, and ran around the pit toward Fu. Fu sprang to his feet, picked up one half of the second hunter's broken spear in each hand, and raced forward to meet his next opponent head on.
Three paces from Fu, the first hunter leaped high into the air. That was a mistake. Fu retained a balanced, level plane, bent his elbows back and up beyond his ears, then swung both halves of the wooden spear straight up into the first hunter's groin. The man's eyes bulged and he cried out, pulling his knees up while still in midair. He landed in a heap on his side, immobilized. Fu was about to continue his assault on the man when he heard the Gentleman speak.
