Chapter 547 - Combat Techniques

Krav Maga, a self-defense system originating from Israel, is widely recognized in the West for its brutal efficiency. Designed for the chaos of street fighting, it focuses on neutralizing threats ranging from robberies to sexual harassment, making it the ultimate tool for personal protection.

More than just a collection of techniques, it is a comprehensive system blending striking, grappling, ground fighting, and defense against knives, sticks, and firearms. It weaponizes instinct, forging aggression and situational awareness into a singular objective: eliminating the threat by any means necessary.

One of Krav Maga’s greatest strengths is its adaptability. It is effective in the most disadvantageous circumstances—dark alleyways, confined spaces, or when one is exhausted or pinned to the ground. This makes it particularly suitable for law enforcement and intelligence operatives.

Xue Ziliang did not believe in coddling. Once the trainees grasped the basics, he threw them into the deep end, incorporating realistic simulations into their regimen. He deliberately scheduled these sessions for the end of the day, when bodies were broken and minds were dull.

Their opponents were seasoned soldiers from the Army—men hardened by months of military combatives. They were fresh, strong, and merciless.

The result was a slaughter. The exhausted trainees were swept aside like leaves, none lasting more than a minute against the onslaught.

Looking at his students groaning on the floor, Xue Ziliang knew the road ahead was long. Their form was passable in controlled sparring, but under the pressure of real combat, they froze. Their reactions were fatal fractions of a second too slow.

"And you think you can be agents?" Xue Ziliang bellowed. "Get up! All of you, on your feet in one minute!"

He believed in forging them through pressure, using stress to engrave self-defense into their muscle memory.

The female squad received no special dispensation. Enemies would not show mercy because of their gender, nor would they adhere to the rules of a fair duel. For women in this line of work, the ability to protect oneself was paramount.

When it was the women's turn, a ripple of laughter went through the Army ranks. "Let's skip this," one soldier jeered. "It's hardly fair."

Xue Ziliang was unmoved. "Corporal Huang Ande! Front and center!"

The first match-up was Army Infantry Corporal Huang Ande versus Lu Cheng, Captain of the Political Security General Administration Trainee Corps Women's Squad. Huang Ande was not a giant—standing 172cm and weighing 70kg, he was average by modern standards. But compared to Lu Cheng, who was a petite 155cm and weighed only 40kg, he looked like a titan.

Huang Ande grinned sheepishly, rubbing the stubble on his chin, clearly unsure of how to proceed against a woman.

"What? Did the sight of a woman turn you into an idiot?" Xue Ziliang barked. "Begin!"

Huang Ande hesitated, his attacks light and tentative.

"Fight seriously or you'll be scrubbing latrines for a year!" Xue Ziliang roared.

The threat worked. Ten seconds later, Lu Cheng let out a wretched cry as she was hurled through the air, crashing heavily onto the mats and passing out cold.

Huang Ande proceeded to dismantle the remaining six women in under three minutes. Yao Yulan forgot everything she had learned and stood frozen until she was struck down. Yang Cao, who possessed some agility from her days in the opera, fared slightly better. She managed to land several punches, but Huang Ande barely flinched. He countered with a barrage of heavy blows. Yang Cao parried desperately, feeling as though her arms were fracturing under the impact. After fifteen seconds, a brutal punch to the gut crumpled her to the floor.

Huang Ande was startled—he hadn't meant to hit her that hard. He leaned down to check on her, only for Yang Cao to suddenly lash out with a leg sweep, catching him on the shin.

But technique alone could not overcome the gap in physical prowess. Huang Ande swayed but didn't fall. His combat reflexes kicked in, and he leapt back out of range. Yang Cao, having spent her last ounce of energy on that failed gambit, collapsed completely. Huang Ande hesitated, wondering if he should finish her off.

"Halt!" Xue Ziliang shouted.

"Did you see that?" Xue Ziliang pointed to the writhing Yang Cao. "It doesn't matter what martial arts you know—without stamina, it's useless! Your punches were like tickles to him."

He watched Yang Cao struggle to stand, still clutching her stomach. "Although you haven't mastered Krav Maga, that sweep showed promise. Good."

"Continue training!" Xue Ziliang announced. "Cry now if you want, because later you won't have the strength to weep! I will train you useless lot until you can actually survive!"

And so, the beatings became a daily ritual. Bruises were badges of honor. Lu Cheng's arms were constantly swollen, requiring daily massages with medicinal wine. The Medical Department supplied them with copious amounts of Runshitang's "San Li Tong Compound Tincture"—a new topical remedy developed by Liu San, with the trainees serving as willing test subjects.

Amidst the nightly groans of pain, Yao Yulan received her first love letter. It was from Huang Ande, secretly slipped into her hand during training. Scrawled crookedly and riddled with errors, it earned nothing but her contempt. She spat on the ground and tossed it into the trash. As a "city girl," she looked down on refugees, especially one who had beaten her so thoroughly on the training mats.

The next day, Huang Ande was not assigned to the women's squad. He looked at Yao Yulan with hopeful eyes, only to be met with a cold glare. His heart shattered. He had thought his flirtation was foolproof. Crushed, he channeled his heartbreak into violence. That day, every trainee who faced him was knocked out cold. Even Xue Ziliang was baffled by the sudden surge in the corporal's ferocity.

However, as the weeks passed, the tide began to turn. The trainees' fitness improved, and their technique sharpened. The sparring sessions looked less like beatings and more like fights. Soldiers began to hit the mat. They stopped smiling and started fighting with grim seriousness.

The combat training did more than harden their bodies; it forged the confidence they needed to operate independently.

Another tool that bolstered their confidence was the handgun.

Alongside unarmed combat, the trainees began formal firearms training. Their weapon of choice was the "Six-Star Pepperbox"—not a Smith & Wesson, but a locally manufactured revolver based on designs from the Weapons Design Group.

As the transmigrator administration expanded into the grassroots, there was an urgent need to arm the growing number of native cadres, police, and intelligence officers.

Currently, native cadres were defenseless. Police carried only truncheons and bayonets, with a few ancient rifles among them. This was insufficient. Although the bandit suppression campaign had improved security, threats still lurked. Gou Er remained at large, and the administration's aggressive policies on land and taxation had undoubtedly made enemies. Fear of the transmigrators' military power kept these hostile elements in check, but the risk of retaliation against native collaborators was high. These cadres were the lifeblood of the administration; their deaths would be a significant loss and a blow to morale.

The Machinery Factory had previously produced mild success with Derringer-style pistols for agents, but their limited capacity and heavy caliber made them unsuitable for general issue. There was no interest in mass-producing them.

Before the Second General Assembly, Wu De had commissioned a study on the issue. The conclusion was clear: arming cadres was essential, especially those working in the field who were vulnerable targets.

Upon becoming head of the Planning Council, Wu De, with the support of Ma Qianzhu and the General Staff, moved to implement this plan. The military also faced a shortage of sidearms; officers, artillerymen, engineers, and sailors were mostly unarmed aside from sabers, as rifles were clumsy and impractical for their roles. A standardized sidearm was the logical solution.

(End of Chapter)