Deep in the heart of the frozen mountains, where only the howling wind could be heard, Huan stood atop a rocky cliff overlooking a roaring waterfall. The falling snow didn't dare settle on his body; the heat radiating from his sheer focus melted everything that drew near.
There, Huan began his war against time. His body, which had suffered from slowness for ten years, needed to be reforged through agony. He began executing one hundred thousand consecutive punches. At first, it took him ten full days of torment; his arms felt as if they were shackled by chains of lead. But he never stopped. Sweat poured off him so profusely that, through a combination of pressure, heat, and time, it literally pierced holes into the solid rock of the cliff beneath his feet.
Months passed, and the agony turned into a habit. The ten days shrunk to a week. After more months of relentless training under the freezing mist of the waterfall, he could deliver those hundred thousand strikes in just five days. Huan wasn't just training to be fast; he was training to annihilate the gap between "intent" and "action."
After years of this hellish discipline, the miracle occurred. Huan's fist launched, but the sound didn't follow until seconds later. He had broken the sound barrier. Because of his disability, he had learned how to project a strike from his mind into reality before the world even realized his hand had moved. He was executing the blow before it even "started."