Chapter 197 Fighting The Devil III

Pain exploded in Liam’s back. The snow cushioned some of it, but his lungs screamed.

The tattooed man moved to stomp him—Liam rolled, kicked upward, and nailed him right in the groin.

A breathless wheeze.

He dropped.

Liam flipped back to his feet, ignoring the pain, breathing sharp.

Both men were wobbling now. Angry. Hurt.

But not down.

Come on, Liam thought.

The bald one lunged again. Liam stepped to the side, twisted, and slammed his elbow into the man’s spine. The man roared in pain and swung backward, but Liam ducked and punched the back of his knee.

The leg gave out.

Liam didn’t hesitate. He jumped up and drove both knees into the man’s back as he fell.

CRACK!

A scream. The man hit the ground.

Liam rolled off, turned—just in time to see the tattooed one charging like a bull.

Liam sidestepped again. Just barely.

He grabbed the man’s arm mid-swing, turned with it, and drove his fist into the man’s ribs. Then again. And again. He felt one rib crack beneath his knuckles.

The man gasped, staggered.

Liam swept his legs out from under him.

The man hit the ground.

Before he could rise, Liam mounted him and started swinging.

Brutal.

Unrelenting.

Left, right, left, right—his fists became blurs. The man’s face caved with each blow. Blood flew. Teeth cracked.

Then the man stopped moving.

Unconscious.

Liam stood.

Breathing hard.

Sweat dripping despite the cold.

His arm throbbed. His back ached. But he was still standing.

The bald one tried to rise.

Liam walked over, kicked him in the face.

He slumped. Out cold.

Silence fell.

The other four guards, who’d been watching all this time, finally stood up.

Their faces were no longer amused. No longer cocky.

They were serious now.

Dead serious.

Liam turned his gaze to them.

His knuckles were bleeding. His shirt was torn. Snow clung to his clothes, but his eyes burned bright.

The snow crunched under Liam’s boots as he stood over the unconscious bodies of the two giants he had just finished off. His breath was heavy, but his eyes burned with fire. Sweat ran down the side of his face, despite the cold, and his knuckles were bruised and red. He barely had time to catch his breath before the remaining four stepped forward.

These ones were different. They didn’t laugh. They didn’t mock. Their eyes were sharp, focused, and dead serious.

Liam looked at their face and he had to furrow his brows, why the fuck do all of them have scars on their face.

One of them, a tall man with a scar cutting from his brow to his cheek, cracked his neck and stepped in first. Without warning, he launched a roundhouse kick straight at Liam’s head.

Liam ducked under it, countering with a punch to the man’s ribs, but the man absorbed the hit like it was nothing and responded with a knee to Liam’s chest that lifted him off the ground.

Liam crashed into the snow, coughing. Before he could fully rise, another one charged in and delivered a hard boot to his side, sending him rolling.

He staggered up, only to be caught in the jaw by a third man’s elbow. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he stumbled back. The fourth man was waiting. He grabbed Liam from behind in a chokehold, lifting him slightly as the others moved in.

A punch to his gut. Another to his ribs. Then a kick to his spine.

Liam grunted. He tried to break free, but the man holding him was solid muscle, locked around him like steel.

"You thought you were strong?" one of them sneered.

Liam spat blood onto the snow. He could feel something burning in his chest. Not just pain, but anger.

"Alright..." he whispered, "Let’s try this your way."

Suddenly, he dropped his full weight and shifted his center of gravity. The man behind him stumbled forward just slightly. Just enough. Liam launched both legs backward in a powerful donkey-kick, connecting with the man’s knees. There was a sickening pop as the man’s grip released.

Liam rolled forward and stood, swaying slightly.

"Time to go all out," he muttered.

He activated it.

[Dragon Steps - Active]

The world around him slowed.

The snowflakes seemed to hang in the air.

He took one step forward. Then another. Each movement silent, precise, explosive.

The first man didn’t see the fist until it had already slammed into his gut with brutal force. The second saw Liam flash past him and tried to block, but Liam twisted mid-air, coming around with a spinning elbow that cracked against the side of his head.

Both men dropped.

The other two charged. They were faster, smarter. One went low, the other high.

Liam jumped, flipped over the low one, and landed behind the high one. He grabbed the back of the man’s head and smashed it against his knee. The man collapsed.

The last one turned, already throwing a wild punch. Liam dodged left, but the man feinted and caught him with a hook to the jaw.

Stars exploded in Liam’s vision.

The man grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the wall.

Liam struggled, his feet dangling slightly. The man leaned in.

"You’re not special. Just fast."

Liam’s eyes narrowed. "Fast enough."

He drove a knee into the man’s ribs. Once. Twice. Then he slammed his head forward into the man’s face.

The grip loosened.

Liam dropped to the ground and swept his leg, knocking the man’s legs out from under him. As the man fell, Liam leapt up and drove his elbow into the man’s chest with all his weight behind it.

Crack.

The man gasped and went still.

Liam stood up slowly, chest heaving. Blood trickled down his lip. His arms ached. His body was already bruised, and a sharp pain in his ribs told him something might be cracked.

But all four were down.

None of them were getting up.

He stood over them, panting, the cold air burning in his lungs.

"Should’ve just let me enter," he muttered.

Snow continued to fall as Liam looked up at the large metal door ahead. Somewhere inside, Jack was hiding.

Liam wiped the blood from his mouth and stepped forward.