by Donald Ha
“Of course. You really like tanks, don’t you?”
“It’s a man’s best friend in wars.”
Jackal’s conscious was being sucked in to a vivid recent past.
It was the battle of June, 1944.
After a formidable bombardment and artillery that burned all the vegetation of the surrounding mountains and rivers, over the trench, green tanks slowly showed themselves one by one.
“Puncher alarm! Puncher alarm!”
A nearby soldier shouted in a plaintive voice.
But there was nothing Jackal could do against the tanks. With the bullets in his rifle, he couldn’t penetrate the glove of the tank, and he didn’t dare reveal himself over the stronghold, where there was a rainfall of machine gun bullets.
“I’m outta here!”
A soldier who couldn’t endure the fear ran out of the stronghold, but as soon as he did, he was hit with a tank gun and was snapped into two.
Jackal saw the blood and the intestines flung out from the corpse and into the trench. Crouched down, he helplessly watched the tank of the allies destroying his camp.
It was a one-sided slaughter.
Anti-tank mines had all exploded in the bombing and the shelling, and the few left were of no use before the dozen tanks, that were shooting away.
The only thing left were the infantry soldiers in the stronghold.
The veteran allies stopped on the stronghold where German soldiers were crouched, and turned the tank by 360 degrees.
If the caterpillar of the tank, weighing dozens of tons, rotated on the trench, the soldier in the trench would be trapped under the weight and would become dead meat.
The screams from under the rotating tank were a bizarre sound, a sound of the dead march from a distant world.
Soon, the earth roared, and the sound of the engine that numbed the ears sounded like the sound of a beast breathing.
The allies’ Sherman tank stood right in front of the trench.
It was the grim reaper who had been playing the dead march.
“Am I going to be brutally killed in a place like this?”
Jackal thought of his mother… his home… and where she was.
When he had prepared for death, there was a loud explosion and the tank of the allies exploded.
“Tigger! Tigger at 11’o clock!”
The desperate cries of the allies could be heard.
Jackal could read fear from the screams of the previously triumphant allies.
The fear of death that he had just felt.
Having detected the fear of the enemy, Jackal raised his head over the trench and looked back.
Over the dense smoke of artillery, a low, steeled- tigger slowly showed itself.
Bombs spread low, a proud strong body, and the towering barrel that pierced the sky.
Jackal was enchanted by the object that made its enemies shiver in a second.
“Is that the…Tigger?”
It was the moment Jackal’s love and passion for tanks had sparked.
“Hey, hey. What are you thinking about? Hey.”
When he recovered consciousness, Marie-Louise’s cross face was right in front of his eyes.
Jackal found out he had been lost in thought. He smiled awkwardly and raised a hand in apology.
“Sorry. I got lost in memories when I heard the name ‘Tigger’.”
Jackal thought to himself,
‘Why am I like this? I keep on losing myself in front of her. It’s not like me.’
He wasn’t completely oblivious.
Hans Graham was an ignorant infantryman by nature and had no interest in tanks, and Erika couldn’t tell the difference between a Soviet and German tank.
There was nobody around to understand his only interest. Jackal had always imagined and drew tanks by himself.
“You’re too mean. Thinking about something else with a beautiful woman, like myself, in front of you. Are all men like this?”
Marie-Louise spoke to Jackal with a sullen voice. It was a charming voice, but Jackal didn’t waver.
“Well, the Tigger is special.”
“......”
Marie-Louise frowned again.
After a bit of an awkward silence, Marie-Louise coughed to awaken the surroundings, and with her unique pleasant voice, she started talking again.
“Anyways, we’re in the middle of an important conversation. The tank was just an example. Please stay focused, I’m trying to tell you something.”
“My apologies, I’ll focus from now on. Yes, you were comparing Wugong to a tank.”
“As least you didn’t lose the whole context of the story. Yes. I’ll start with the art of the outer force.”
Under Jackal’s consent, Marie-Louise sketched something like a tank in the notebook, and explained with the pen in her hand.
“The art of the outer force could be compared to the armor, the mobility and the sight of the tank.”
“Yeah? In what way?”
The glove, as its name suggests, was the thickest, the protection of the whole tank.
The mobility of the tank referred to the speed, the ability to go over inclinations, the ability to go over rugged terrains.
The sight was the mechanism used as the eyes of the tank, which guaranteed the accuracy of the bombing.
“The outer force basically focuses on training the bones, tendons and skin. Hard skin is compared to the armour, an agile and sleek body to the mobility, and accuracy of the attack and the sight.”
“Is it like martial arts?”
Jackal got to the root at once.
A smile appeared at Marie-Louise’s lips.
“Exactly. You could understand the art of the outer force as learning how to work weapons in normal martial arts and training your physical body.”
“I have learnt judo and karate. Although it was more like getting beaten up until yellow water came out from the mouth.”
Jackal made a wry smile.
It was due to his memories of his abusive childhood.
“Anyways, what is the art of the inner force? The thing written in this notebook.”
Jackal opened the notebook, which was densely packed with Chinese characters, and asked her.
“The inner force is the power and fuel, the caliber of the tank gun and the body of the tank itself.”
Marie-Louise drew circles in the tank on the notebook. She seemed to mean they were important, but it didn’t appeal to Jackal.
“Hmm. Isn’t the art of the outer force more important?”
“Why?”
“I feel like the key to tanks are gloves and mobility.”
“No matter how thick the glove of a tank is, it can’t move if the power is lousy. An unmovable tank is nothing more than a static torch car.”
She was right.
Jackal thought about it and nodded.
Marie-Louise continued talking.
“The same goes for the caliber of the tank gun. People usually say that the bigger the caliber, the more threatening it is. They say a 75mm tank gun is stronger than a 50mm but weaker than an 80mm.”
“It has to be, because the 88mm is from a high altitude antiaircraft.”
“However, if we follow the logic, the conclusion is that it’s always better to make a bigger caliber. But what happens if the whole tank is weak? No matter how strong the caliber is, the gun wouldn’t work. It could self-destruct, not being able to endure its rebound force.”
Jackal was quick at understanding.
He wasn’t just quick. He had an extraordinary brain that was incomparable to those of others.
If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have made it out alive.
“I understand what you are saying. How important the art of the inner force is. So in a nutshell, the basic of Wugong is the art of the inner force.”
“Exactly.”
A smile flashed across Marie’s lips.
Still smiling, she handed over the notebook to Jackal again.
“I think that your body is already ready. Your physical body is trained from the long experience of war. So your outer force exceeds the basics.”
“Do I learn the art of the inner force now?”
Marie-Louise nodded.
.”Here, take it again. The secret to strengthen your power source and your body is written here.”
Jackal received the notebook obediently this time, and skimmed through it with seriousness.
After some time, Jackal closed the notebook.
“Mind you. It sounds too hypothetical. I don’t get it.”
“It is normal for many to ask that, for the style of the masters is to faintly express about Wugong.”
“Why?”
“One of the reasons are so that it would be hard for people to understand, and also fundamentally enlighten those who subjective characteristics.”
“Enlightenment?”
Marie-Louise smiled at Jackal’s question and nodded.
“Action speaks louder than words. Watch and copy me.”
She grabbed the crutch, one in each hand, and made a vertical headstand. It was a clean movement, without any assistance or unnecessary side-movement.
“I don’t have a crutch.”
“No, but you have two hands instead.”
Jackal took off his American coat at her pushiness.
*Clink! Clank! Clunk!*
Grenades, submachine guns, pistols, anti-tank mines and many more.
Tremendous weaponry that had been inside his jacket dropped to the ground.
Marie, who had been doing a headstand, sighed at him.
“You really are a walking arsenal.”
“These are the only things I have to trust.”
He loosened the knife that had been fastened to his ankle, organized the weapons neatly, and proceeded to do a headstand on the floor.
“Now breathe deeply while you’re doing a headstand.”
Jackal wondered how to answer back, but gave up because it seemed pointless. He inhaled deeply.
The air of the basement went up deeply to his rib cage, bottom to up.
“Now exhale. Exhale as if you are exhaling every bit of air from your lungs. Leave nothing.”
“Phew-“
Jackal did as he was told.
“Do you feel anything?”
“Nothing. I’m just tired.”
“Of course. It’s your first time. Well, we are pressed for time, so we’ll have to take drastic measures.”
“Drastic measures?”
“.....”
Marie-Louise stayed silent at Jackal’s question.
When Jackal lifted his head up, the first thing he saw were the crutches on the ground.
“Gosh. When did she…?”
His heart had skipped a beat, but then a soft pair of hands grabbed his legs..
“Your posture is messed up. I am a forgiving person, but I am strict in this matter, so I cannot overlook it!”
Marie-Louise straightened out Jackal’s curved feet so they were vertical with the sky.
"Urgh!"
“Like this. You understand?”
“Oh…yeah.”
Thankfully she did not have any ill will.
If she had, his two legs would have been crippled by her monstrous power and would’ve been broken.
“Now breathe in again. As if the air comes up till here.”
Marie-Louise tapped on Jackal’s abdomen, right above his crotch.
Jackal spoke up, feeling extreme discomfort.
“That’s my lower abdomen. My lungs are above it.”
“This is where the lower part of abdomen is. Where your new power will go in. Now, breathe in. Deeply. As if the energy of Mother Nature is permeating into you.”
Marie-Louise, with Jackal’s feet in her hands, was like a strict Spartan teacher.
‘Damn it! She’s acting like a Japanese drill sergeant.’
Jackal blamed his stupidity, but it was already too late.
“The problem is speed, so I’ll make a road! Endure the pain!”
Marie-Louise gripped Jackal’s legs with one hand, and crossed her crutch so she could grab his lower neck.
“Wh..What are you doing?”
Complete confinement.
Jackal found himself unable to move.
“In it goes! Power injection!”
As Marie-Louise’s cheerful voice rang, Jackal felt something he had never felt before, some kind of strange energy, entering his body from where Marie’s hand was, on the abdomen.
It was as if the physical body was being invaded by something unknown. It was disgusting and uncomfortable.
“Err…Ugh…Wh..What in the world is this?”
Feeling something extraneous spreading across his body, Jackal tried moving, but his already-confined body didn’t budge.
Marie-Louise’s lilting voice sounded from above when his conscious almost started to fade.
“You don’t have an engine, so we should make one. Right? I’ll make you a great engine like the one Dr.Porsche designed, so just wait a bit.
Time has pasted long enough for one to have had a cup of tea. Marie-Louise finally let go of Jackal’s legs.
“Ughh...”
His head hurt terribly, probably because he had been hanging upside down for so long.
Jackal shook his head and breathed deeply with his hands on his forehead.
“Damn it…What are you doing…”
“Now, what do you feel?”
“Only a massive headache.”
“Not your head. Your stomach.”
Marie-Louise’s eyes brightened.
Jackal looked up at Marie with suspicious eyes, and touched his abdomen.
The energy that had entered him had melted away like sugar in hot water, and his physical senses had returned to normal.
“So, how is it? Tell me how you feel.”
“Hmm...”
Jackal glanced at her with uncertainty, shut his eyes tight and tried to feel the change in his body.
But it was the same as before.
He wasn’t hurt or injured.
Uttermost peace.
But,
‘Huh? What’s this?’
He felt something on his lower abdomen.
Something he had never felt, something that was infinitely deep and serenely empty, like an empty room.
“There is something. Something…empty.”
Marie-Louise, hearing Jackal’s murmur, smiled with satisfaction and stroked her hair.
“That’s your engine room. Young Puncher (tank).”
“Engine room?”
“Now do a headstand again and repeat breathing. You’ll feel slightly different from before.”
He was a bit suspicious, but Jackal did as Marie-Louise commanded – He did a headstand again and breathed like she had taught him.
He straightened his legs perpendicular to the ground, and stood with his two arms on the ground. He inhaled vastly as if he was sucking the energy of nature, and exhaled without leaving anything in his lungs.
“Phew.....”
Nothing had changed.
He didn’t feel any change or anything special.
But then,
“....!”
He felt something being filled up.
In the engine room that Marie-Louise had made for him, he could feel a small, but an evident filling.
Jackal’s eyes opened widely.
“What is this…feeling? I can feel something. Something in my lower abdomen being filled up....”
“I knew you were bright.”
With her crutch under her arms, Marie-Louise looked at Jackal and clapped.
The applause echoed in the empty basement with only the two of them in it. The incandescent light swayed, creating a brilliant shadow on the wall and the floor.
In the basement, Marie-Louise’s voice echoed loudly again.
“That is your fuel, Jackal. Fuel to make the tank, you, sprint.”
I
t had been a week since Jackal learned Wugong from Marie-Louise.
He polished Marie-Louise’s art of the inner force day and night, and he repeatedly read the secrets she had written for him in his notebook.
“The step of fullness is like a big tree which grows from the sturdy earth. The step of emptiness brushes the ground like a leaf…”
The sentences he couldn’t grasp at the beginning strangely became understandable as he read it over and over again.
However, the enlightenment was always deflected every time, and had not revealed its secret yet.
He had been only learning for a week.
Jackal wasn’t rushing.
He was satisfied with the slow changes in his body.
“I feel like I’m the only when transforming in this rotten city.”
Of course, he didn’t forget working for a living.
Today, Jackal and his partner Hans were going to ‘hyena’ in a small incinerator at the back of a closed hospital.
There were dreadful rumors about the place.
Rumor that the soviets placed prisoners with serious injuries altogether and burned them alive in order to stop an infectious disease from spreading.
“Stealing from a body dwelled with revengeful spirit. This is really like a hyena.”
Jackal and Hans looked for something that could be worthy among the burnt bodies.
Normally Jackal, who believed in superstition and had a weak stomach, would have been reluctant to do this job, but today, he was enthusiastic.
He opened the jaw of the skull to look at the teeth or picked up bony fingers and looked at it, things he would have usually passed on.
His business partner, Hans Graham, who was always with him, picked up Jackal’s change and said in surprise,
“Hey Jackal, did you find a stimulant?”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“You seem to be overflowing with strength. Doing things that you wouldn’t do before.”
“Work out Hans, work out. You’ll feel much better.”
Jackal fumbled through the bodies, whistling.
Within a few minutes, he found something.
“Bingo.”
It was a golden tooth. He didn’t know whose, but it was probably from one of the skull’s that were lying around.
The shining golden tooth was big even to the naked eye, and the gold seemed pure enough to sell for a high price.
Hans sighed. He wasn’t lucky today.
“Damn it, I need a golden tooth too! An expensive golden tooth! You stupid skulls.”