The entertainnt room wasn’t large, about sixty to seventy square ters, with two tables, two sets of sofas, and a small liquor cabinet. However, there was nobody inside. Once John Brown entered, he hid behind one of the tables and imdiately fired two shots towards the doorway.
A shadow flickered at the door, and the woman in black ca rushing in against the door fra. John Brown’s two shots aid at the center of the doorway completely missed.
This woman was indeed bold, with an accurate sense of judgnt, but she was facing Jas Brown. Jas was not only skilled in martial arts, but his gunmanship was also top-notch. Although those two shots missed, he quickly raised his hand, aiming the gun at the airborne woman and pulled the trigger repeatedly.
A person in midair ordinarily would not be able to change direction, but as this woman crossed the doorway, her foot tapped the fra and she suddenly flew straight to the side. Her reflexes were beyond words, seemingly beyond human capability.
While in the air, the woman wasn’t just dodging. Both of her hands swung repeatedly, and several throwing knives shimred with cold light as they flew towards John Brown’s exposed head and arm.
John initially intended to continue shooting along the woman’s trajectory, but as her hand moved up, he realized that if he continued to fire, he’d be hit by her throwing knives first. Thus, he quickly judged the situation, sharply dropping his body to evade the knives, leaving him unable to attack as the woman landed on the ground.
Subsequently, the two engaged in a breathtaking fight within the small entertainnt room. Bullets and knives flew, but neither of them could land a hit on the other.
Jas fired another shot but still missed the woman. The woman, no longer concealing her figure, started walking directly towards Jas.
"An MP5 submachine gun, with only thirty bullets; you’ve already fired thirty shots. You have no bullets left," she said casually as she approached, with a strong sense of confidence.
Jas stood up, casually tossed aside the submachine gun, grinned at the woman, and said, "I didn’t expect you to be skilled with knives and know so much about guns, even keeping count of how many tis I fired."
The woman snorted coldly, "Now that you’re out of bullets, I still have countless throwing knives. You’re dead."
The smile on Jas’s face remained bright, "Earlier you said that if I dodged your five throwing knives, I would be your man. I think I just dodged thirty-five of them."
The woman’s expression was hidden behind a mask, but Jas could sense she was obviously startled. Whether single or burst shots, the sound was loud enough for any expert to count, but throwing knives had no sound. For Jas to accurately state the number she threw was far more difficult than counting gunshots.
"Do you really want to be my man?" the woman did not strike, but stopped instead.
Jas chuckled, "Do I have to pay? If so, forget it. I never pay won. It’s not clean."
The woman remained indifferent to Jas’s words. A skilled hitman, especially one skilled with knives, must remain calm to throw them accurately. With her mastery of the throwing knife, her mind remained unchanged by Jas’s remarks.
"You can’t provoke ; it’s useless. I respect you as a rare expert, so I’m giving you a chance. If you can escape my four throwing knives, I’ll spare your life."
As she spoke, she slowly raised both hands, pinching a blade-like throwing knife between each finger: forefinger, middle finger, and ring finger.
Jas smiled faintly, "I don’t need your pity, nor do I need you to spare . If you want to kill , it’s not that easy."
"You have so courage. Are you ready?" This woman was suprely confident in her throwing knife mastery, confronting John Brown head-on and even reminding him.
The distance between Jas and this woman was only slightly over five ters. Her throwing knives were fast, even faster than bullets, requiring imnse strength to give the knives such speed. At this short distance, evasion without preemptive judgnt was virtually impossible.
Jas smiled slightly, "Not yet."
The woman stood there with raised hands, motionless, seemingly waiting for Jas to prepare.
Suddenly, Jas stretched lazily and yawned, "Miss, it’s pointless to keep fighting. How about we find a room to bond? I think it’d be more fun."
"If you’re not afraid, I have no objection," the woman answered crisply.
Jas laughed, "Alright then, let’s go."
"Seeking death!" The woman shouted coldly, raising her hands suddenly as two throwing knives darted from her fingers, like streaks of cold light, towards Jas’s throat and heart.
However, a chair suddenly flew up from behind Jas, heading straight towards the two throwing knives.
When Jas stretched earlier, he happened to swing his hand back and grabbed the chair.
The chair was large and made of solid wood. With Jas’s might, it was a weighty weapon. If it hit the woman, she’d probably be severely injured, if not killed.
The two throwing knives struck the solid wooden chair, but surprisingly, it couldn’t stop them. The knives slashed through it like tofu, their paths unchanged, continuing towards Jas’s throat and heart.
Nevertheless, the chair slowed the knives just enough for Jas to react, stretching to dodge them and charging toward the woman.
In combat with a knife-throwing expert, the further away you are, the more passive you beco. If you’re familiar with the ga "Smart Hero," lee fighters fare better by closing the distance against ranged opponents to engage in close-quarters combat. Otherwise, you’d inevitably lose if you can’t hit your opponent from afar.
At this mont, both the chair and Jas were racing toward the woman at nearly the sa speed. Whether the chair or Jas, the woman couldn’t ignore either.
This was initially a good strategy, but the woman was so powerful. Her eyes focused on Jas as she slid to the side, swinging her hands again. The remaining two knives spun towards Jas.
This ti, the knives flew slowly, like butterflies, yet Jas felt an intense sense of danger. Though he didn’t slow his charge, he marshaled all his ntal energy.
As the knives closed in within half a ter of Jas, they collided. Such an error seed uncharacteristic of a knife-throwing master, yet it made Jas tenser.
The initial knives the woman threw, though fast and strong, were predictable. Jas, being decent with knives himself, could foresee the knife’s path once the woman moved her hand, allowing him to prepare and dodge in advance.
But the knives’ collision altered their course, requiring him to reassess. With the knives so close, it was nearly impossible to evade.
The woman had dodged the chair, and after throwing these knives, she clasped her hands behind her back, certain that nobody could evade her knife tactic once mastered. Even if Jas had high martial arts skills, he’d have to retreat to have any chance. But as he advanced so close, there was no avoiding her knives.
"Puff! Puff!" Two odd sounds echoed. The woman’s exposed eyes showed extre shock; her knives were utterly neutralized.
Jas used a thod the woman had never anticipated: he used two shoes as weapons, eting her knives in the nick of ti and diverting them.
In her mind, in close quarters, nobody could evade her knives. If Jas had a tool, he might have blocked them, provided he predicted their paths accurately. Yet Jas had nothing of the sort, boosting her confidence.
Who’d have thought Jas could weaponize his shoes? Such an unexpected twist caught her off guard.
More critical was that Jas not only deflected her knives but was now within half a ter of her. A reinforced punch, carrying gusting wind, was targeting her chest. Though his fist hadn’t touched her chest, she already felt intense pressure, struggling to breathe. The consequences if the punch landed were unimaginable.
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