The second man didn’t hear the shout as he arrived just seconds later, swinging his blade downward in a reckless arc.
His hands were trembling uncontrollably, and Jeff caught the motion with ease. It was all thanks to Jakol’s relentless overhead feints.
Those attacks after those feints had pounded into him for an entire hour, training his body to react instinctively, even without conscious thought.
With a step inward, Jeff deflected the knife with his forearm, redirecting it away from his center. Then he delivered a short, brutal punch straight into the man’s liver.
The man gasped and dropped to one knee, paralyzed by the sudden pain, but he wasn’t done.
He stepped behind the man, as he grabbed him by the collar, and then swung him around before hurling him face-first into the tree bark.
The knife clattered from his hand, and his body rolled once upon landing before lying still.
He coughed once before losing consciousness. The third man, watching it all unfold, was different. He moved slower and with more caution than the other two.
He hoped for the two to at least wear the young man down, but now he was alone and the two did not do the job from what he expected.
His face twisted in panic as he raised his blade to surrender, yet Jeff was already moving.
With explosive speed he closed the gap and feinted a low kick. He then snapped upward with a spinning roundhouse that struck the man squarely on the side of the head.
The force lifted him off his feet and sent him sprawling. He crashed to the ground with the knife bouncing from his hand.
As he fell, with that blow he did could not get up. With that three more were down, it was all within seconds.
Jeff stood tall, basking in the stunned gaze of his enemies who now looked at him not only with fear but with a flicker of admiration.
Since he was strong, those who were not unconscious could only watch him in stunned silence.
Jessica looked at him with awe, especially after that last kick which left her breathless with amazement.
The way he handled all those thugs, his movement and the counterattacks that followed, was a sight to behold.
They were all armed with knives while he had nothing in his hands. And still, he came out on top.
"What a bunch of useless fools," the man cursed as he placed his hand on his neck.
He eyed Jeff with a menacing glare, but Jeff responded with an emotionless stare that made the man click his tongue in irritation. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭⚑𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮⚑𝕟𝕖𝕥
"Be prepared, kid. I’m not as weak as those underlings," he said as he cracked his neck, his aura growing stronger.
Jeff said nothing that is because he lived by his own philosophy. Is that, ’In battle, the tongue is useless. Only the body may speak’
The tattooed man finally stepped forward, cracking his knuckles as he rolled his shoulders. The look in his eyes was cold and chilling.
There was no playfulness in him. He walked slowly toward Jeff, his tall figure was very imposing.
Then suddenly, he exploded into motion. A blur of rapid strikes flew toward Jeff’s vital points.
Each fist came fast and precise, the kind of strikes honed through years of trading blows in back alleys and warzones.
He followed up with a flurry of moves including hooks, jabs, elbows, and knees. Each attack came from a different angle.
The man with the tattoo struck high then went low, trying to throw off the young man’s rhythm. But every hit missed by mere inches.
From the moment the strikes came, Jeff was not idle. He moved with effortless grace, his body weaving through the attacks like water slipping through cracks.
Everything was happening so fast that it was no longer just close quarter combat exchanging blows.
It had become a battle of pure instincts and techniques, each movement sharpened through experience.
Jeff seeing the incoming attack he ducked under a powerful hook, then leaned back to avoid a spinning elbow.
The man with the tattoo tried a shoulder feint followed by a knee strike, but the young man which is Jeff, twisted slightly and the knee cut through empty air.
He followed with a sweeping kick, but Jeff hopped over it with perfect timing. Every time the tattooed man struck, Jeff was already gone.
What adorned Jeff’s face was neither panic nor tension. His breathing was slow and steady, as if everything happening around him was perfectly normal. His expression remained calm.
He was simply observing and analyzing with clarity. As a powerful heavy punch aimed for his chest came in, he sidestepped smoothly and let it pass by.
A quiet sigh escaped from Jeff as he moved with ease.
"Instructor Jakol is really the pinnacle of a warrior," he muttered inwardly.
If this had been Instructor Jakol, a few of his ribs and bones would have already been broken by now.
Even if instructor Jakol missed that punch, it would not have been wasted like the one thrown by the man he was currently fighting with.
If it missed, a follow-up would have already come, aiming precisely at the opening his dodge created.
This was what Jeff had learned from Jakol, is that he never left a gap unused.
Every attack from him was like a move in chess, always thinking five or even ten turns ahead. When he moved his fist, it was never just to strike once.
Its purpose was to trap, to break, and to end. The difference between his current opponent and Instructor Jakol was structure.
Jeff understood, after being beaten for ten hours, that Jakol’s strikes were not just physical. They were psychological.
That was because every move Jakol made tested balance, posture, rhythm, and even breathing.
But the man in front of him? He fought with strength, speed, and reflexes. Instructor Jakol fought with design.
Its intent was sharpened by bloodshed and pure calculation, likely shaped by his experience in Terra X.
Seeing that the kid remained calm and relaxed after several minutes of exchange, while he himself had already grown slightly tired, filled him with anger and shame.
He could not help but growl as his movements became faster and more aggressive, trying to force a change in the kid’s expression.
With that, he launched a flurry of rapid punches aimed at Jeff’s ribs and head.
But Jeff simply raised his forearms and blocked them cleanly, barely moving from his spot.
"Yep, the gap is really big. It was now clearer than ever," he said in his mind.
He admitted that if this had been him just a few days ago, he would have been beaten in a single strike.
Since the tattooed man was skilled and dangerous.
But his movements, while it was flashy, it lacked follow-through.
There was no anchor and no clear flow. In contrast, Instructor Jakol had conditioned Jeff under such intense pressure that his body had no choice but to evolve.
The major thing that made him feel inhuman was the instinct Jakol had embedded into him through pain.
It made him want to return to the white room and train even more. The benefits were nothing like going to the gym.
At a gym, you lift weights for a month just to see a bit of progress. But in that room, the change was immediate and fast.
His body could not help but feel a sudden thrill as he thought about it.
Lost in thought, Jeff was nearly caught off guard when a spinning backfist came at him.
Remembering he was still in battle, he stepped slightly to the left and let it pass harmlessly beside him.
The attack brushed the air, missing completely, while Jeff remained calm and steady.
"Fuckkkk!" the man roared angrily, his breath heavy from the endless barrage.
When he threw a quick jab toward Jeff’s throat, it was parried with ease.
If he followed up with an elbow, it was ducked. No matter the angle, the speed, or the force he used, it was always seen and predicted.
The tattooed man threw a palm strike, but Jeff met it with a solid fist, making the man grit his teeth as pain surged through his arm.
He stepped back, his breathing growing heavier. His eyes were filled with irritation, and his face was flushed with frustration.
"Is dodging the only thing you can do? Come and fight like a man," the man roared.
Hearing this, Jeff looked at him calmly, not even noticing the irritation burning across his opponent’s face.
He was simply practicing, observing the changes in himself with each movement.
He had not expected to make the man this angry, but that was even better.
So he stood straight, staring at him without saying a single word.
Seeing Jeff remain silent only fueled the man’s anger. To him, it felt like the kid was acting mute just to mock him, even though he could clearly speak.
From the side, Jessica could not help but giggle softly. Hearing that low giggle from a girl made his rage explode.
He, one of the four commanders of the Black Serpent Gang, was being laughed at.
Not only could he not beat the kid in front of him, but now he was being laughed at.
That made his anger boil even more. Fueling the need of revenge so badly.
"Well then, if you want me to take it seriously, I’ll give it to you. Be prepared," Jeff said, giving him a heads-up for his own good.
"Goo.." He did not finish his words. In just a span of milliseconds, everything changed.
Jeff had already closed the five-meter distance in a sudden burst of speed, leaving the man shocked and completely off guard.
1st: Special thanks to ’Essos👑’ – the GOAT of the month, for both the rewarding gifts and golden tickets! Much love, brotha!
2nd: Big thanks to ’Pat_funding👑’ for the unwavering support since the very start of my journey and for the golden tickets and gifts!
3rd: Special shoutout to ’Devon1234👑’ – The same GOAT of this month, for all the amazing gifts! You’re absolutely RAD!