Back Story

Before he became known as one of the fastest kick boxer in the world, Hedchin was just another name lost in the gutters of society. Born in the slums of the Hollowridge outskirts, where the weak went hungry and the strong took what they wanted, Hedchin had nothing. No home, no family, and no future. Only the will to live and take everything. He learned to run before he could walk, to steal before he could speak. The streets were cruel, but they taught him one truth: survive, no matter what.

By the time he was a teen, Hedchin had become a phantom on the roads, a feared bandit who struck with precision and disappeared before anyone could react. Even though he refused to cross the line of murder, his kicks could knock out a grown warrior. He also carried a cold iron baton for those who tried to draw steel.

He robbed merchants, nobles, even royal couriers. His heists were so fast and clean that rumors claimed he could phase through walls. The law tried to catch him, bounties were placed, and wanted posters spread like wildfire, but no one could touch him. He stole thousands of dollars in coin, relics, weapons, and scrolls, all without taking a single life. But everything changed the day he saw him. A tall, calm, and utterly terrifying figure standing in the middle of the road.

Hedchin had been tailing a noble caravan when the wolf beast of a man appeared, holding one of his wanted posters in hand.

“You're fast,” The stranger said, eyes locked on him. “Let’s see if you’re strong.”

Hedchin didn’t ask questions. His instincts screamed danger, but his pride wouldn’t let him run. He struck first with a whirlwind of blinding kicks with his steel baton spinning like a blur. He hit the man square in the jaw, ribs, even landed a jump-spin kick to the side of his head.

But the man didn’t flinch.

Before Hedchin could even realize that this man was toying with him. A single backhand sent Hedchin flying through a tree. Every time Hedchin stood back up he rush in on the offensive again and again. even though every attack felt like striking an immovable wall Hedchin knew that defeat was certain death . This wasn't a fight, this was an execution.

In the end, Hedchin lay in the dirt, gasping for breath, body trembling from fear and awe.

“You’ve got skill,” the stranger said. “But you’re wasting it stealing trinkets. If you want real power, if you want meaning... get stronger. Make a name for yourself.”

Then the stranger handed him a folded paper. On it was a drawing with the name Devlin at the bottom.

“One day, he’ll come looking for strong opponents. Be one of them. And tell him his father Davick is waiting for him.”

Later that day vowed give up banditry. He tossed his iron baton off a cliff and vanished from the roadways. The next time his name was heard, it would be echoed from the underground arena where no rules existed and only power mattered.

Hedchin the Bandit was gone.

Hedchin the Thunderous Kick was born.

With every victory, he sharpened his technique, perfecting speed and power. He no longer stole from the weak and earned his strength through battle. when he finally met Devlin in the ring years later, he recognized the fire in his eyes. The same fire Davick had.

Now, Hedchin fights not just to prove his strength, but to honor the man who defeated him, spared his life, and give him new meaning that drives him forward. He’s not running anymore. He’s chasing something greater.

My first character turned OC

I can say I'm extremely proud with how to clothes turned out. This a few stretching issues but better then the others so far (which I will work on sooner or later)

Thanks to Chatgpt and Grammerly with creating the backstory :D