Step by step, Lucian advanced toward Victor, his pace unbroken, his expression calm, almost detached. The tension in the room thickened with each step he took. Despite Victor standing in a full, ready stance, Lucian walked into his field of attack as though he didn’t care or worse, as though Victor’s preparation didn’t matter.
Victor’s body tensed instinctively, his well-honed instincts firing on all cylinders. Without hesitation, he threw a punch, a clean, powerful right hook aimed directly at Lucian’s face.
How stupid, Victor thought as his fist cut through the air. He might have some skill, but walking this close without a stance? Without preparing? Victor’s thoughts even as his movements stayed precise and fluid. Fighting isn’t just about mentality it’s about being ready. You’ve got to have your body aligned, your stance set. Acting cool doesn’t make you a fighter.
Victor’s sharp gaze flicked to Lucian’s eyes mid-punch, expecting to see panic, maybe even anger. But there was nothing. Lucian’s eyes didn’t flinch or narrow. They didn’t even show contempt. They were void of emotion, as though Victor’s attack was beneath notice.
What the hell is with those eyes? Victor thought, his confidence wavering slightly. Is he looking down on me?
The punch tore through the air, the sound of Victor’s shoulder shifting and his feet pivoting to generate maximum power audible to the onlookers. This is it, Victor thought. Too close to dodge, too close to counter. He can’t punch back or block effectively from this range. I’ve got him.
But the moment of triumph was short-lived.
Lucian moved not with a dramatic flourish, but with the smallest, most efficient shift. A fraction of a second before the punch could connect, Lucian tilted his head and body just slightly to the side, enough to let Victor’s fist slice through empty air, grazing past Lucian’s cheek by inches.
The momentum of Victor’s punch carried him slightly forward, just enough for Lucian to make his next move.
Lucian’s arm extended not for a punch, but with a calculated motion that placed the back of his palm gently on the nape of Victor’s neck. The movement seemed almost casual, but it held precision and intent.
In the same breath, Lucian’s knee drove upward with unrelenting force, slamming into Victor’s stomach with pinpoint accuracy. The backhanded grip on Victor’s neck ensured that the strike landed cleanly and with devastating momentum.
“Woahhh!” Victor’s punch finished its arc into nothingness as his entire body jerked forward from the knee’s impact.
“Aughhh!” Victor gasped as air was forced from his lungs. His mouth opened involuntarily, spitting out saliva as his stomach took the brunt of the brutal strike. The sound of the impact echoed in the restaurant, followed by the clatter of chairs and murmurs from the onlookers.
Lucian released Victor’s neck as easily as he had gripped it, letting him stumble backward.
Victor’s feet shuffled awkwardly as he tried to regain his balance, one hand instinctively going to his stomach while the other stayed up defensively. His breath came in short, shallow gasps as he straightened up, his face twisted in a mix of pain and disbelief.
“Woahhh,” Garry exhaled from his seat, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement. “Aughh, that definitely hurt.” He whistled low, leaning back and shaking his head.
Jimmy, still seated with his arms crossed, smirked faintly, though his eyes betrayed a glint of satisfaction. He didn’t say anything, simply watching Victor with a calm, knowing look.
Victor spat to the side, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His expression was tense, his pride visibly wounded. He wasn’t just feeling the pain in his stomach his ego had taken an equally brutal hit. How did he do that? I’ve been trained since childhood. I’ve sparred with the best fighters, taken harder hits. So why… why didn’t I see that coming?a fking dog licker and useless second generation hah.
His sharp eyes locked onto Lucian, who stood there, calm and unmoving. Lucian’s posture was relaxed, his expression unreadable. He didn’t follow up with another attack, didn’t taunt Victor or capitalize on his advantage. He simply stood there, as though the fight had already been decided.
Victor’s teeth clenched, his mind battling between frustration and admiration. This isn’t luck. That was skill. Precision. He steadied his stance again, forcing himself to ignore the ache in his stomach. His pride wouldn’t allow him to back down.
Lucian tilted his head slightly For a moment, the two men stood frozen in place, the weight of their unspoken conflict hanging heavy in the air.
The restaurant remained tense, the murmurs of the onlookers creating an almost buzzing background noise. Somewhere, a server dropped a plate, the crash barely registering amidst the atmosphere.
Victor straightened slowly, his hand still pressed lightly against his stomach, trying to steady his breathing. A strained smile twisted across his bloodied lips, but his sharp eyes hadn’t lost their edge. “Not bad,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse but holding steady. “Big surprise, though. No one told me you could fight, Mr. Kane. Guess everyone’s been wrong about you even my data.”
He chuckled bitterly, wiping a streak of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “So, where’d you learn it?” he continued, his smile curling into something more sinister. “And why are you hiding it?”
Lucian didn’t answer. His gaze bore into Victor, cold and unrelenting. The room around them seemed to fade away as his focus sharpened, his clenched fists trembling slightly not with fear, but with years of buried frustration clawing to the surface.
Victor’s recovery was swift. He adjusted his stance, shaking off the disorientation. “Looks like I’ve gotten lazy,” he sneered, rolling his shoulders. “Guess my skills are a little rusty. But don’t get comfortable, Kane. You’re going down today.”
Without further warning, Victor launched himself forward. His movements were fast, calculated a flurry of steps closing the distance in an instant.
Lucian didn’t flinch.
Victor’s fist shot toward him, aiming directly for Lucian’s jaw, but Lucian moved. His head tilted to the side with precision, just enough to avoid the strike.
And then, Lucian struck.
His fist clenched tightly, fueled by anger simmering for years. With an almost primal ferocity, his punch connected directly with Victor’s nose, the impact loud and sickening.
“Ughhh!” A guttural grunt tore from Victor’s lips as the world around him spun. His hands instinctively went up, but it was too late. His nose felt like it was on fire, his balance faltering as he stumbled back, barely keeping himself upright.
Victor’s thoughts scrambled, the pain clouding his mind. What just happened? How did he hit me from that angle?
