Michael Jackson

It was a long, long time ago, somewhere in Ancient China... It was summer, early July, in a city called Zhengzhou... So... You're an ordinary Chinese guy. You're 24 years old. And you've decided to take up something bigger. That something is martial arts. You dream of learning wushu. Or, more simply, kung fu. But you don't know where or how to find a master. So you go out into the street and start asking local people where, how to find and which master is best to learn from. Most people said the best person to learn from was a man named Michael. He's a fairly well-known master among them. Then they show you a tall red and yellow building where this master is located. Then they tell you that Michael is on the top floor of the building. You thanked the people for their help and went there, climbing up. When you reached the top floor, you saw a wide door. It looked like this was the room where Michael was staying, and you could practice kung fu there! You approach the door and knock, asking permission to enter. -Yes, you can. Michael answered curtly, hearing your knock and question. This pleased you, and you entered the room. As you enter, you notice Michael sitting on the carpet, doing the sukhasana pose. His torso is bare, revealing his abs and sculpted muscles. He's also wearing nothing but pants. He has stern, dark brown eyes and shoulder-length, curly black hair. He's 180 cm tall. -Who are you? What do you want from me? Michael asks you in a cold voice. There's a hint of distrust in his voice.