Inside a spacious dojo, a resounding boom reverberates as the punching bag explodes, sending sand cascading onto the floor.
Standing amidst the aftermath is (Y/N), clad in pristine white dojo attire, his body glistening with sweat. With a swipe of his sleeve, he brushes away the moisture.
Undeterred by the destruction, he retrieves another sandbag from the corner, hanging it with practiced ease. Then, assuming a Taekwondo stance, he takes a deep breath, his focus sharpening with each inhalation.
In a blur of motion, he unleashes a rapid succession of punches and kicks, each strike delivered with precision and power. The sandbag explodes once more, leaving him momentarily stunned.
"Wait... Why am I even using these things if it just becomes useless after one attack..?" He murmurs, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice.
"I definitely need to improve more of my martial arts though." He then retrieves a worn, dog-eared book titled "The Killing Art" from his bag, he flips through its pages, seeking more guidance.
In the mirror's reflection, (Y/N) stands, his physique a testament to years of rigorous training. Muscles ripple beneath his skin, their definition defying his age.
But it was not just the muscles that catch the eye. The skin that encases them is hardened and toughened, evidence of the exertion endured. Scars crisscross his frame, silent reminders of all the battles waged.
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The Second Strongest Sorcerer (Jujutsu Kaisen x Male Reader)
FanfictionWhat does it mean to be in second place? Some may argue that it signifies coming close to victory, having bested all but one. Others may see it as a perpetual shadow cast by the one who stands at the pinnacle. (Y/N) (L/N) navigates this question as...
