The moment the first guy moved, the fight erupted like a wildfire.
I ducked under a swing of a steel pipe, pivoted, and slammed my elbow into his gut. The wind whooshed out of him before I twisted, caught another thug’s wrist mid-swing, and used his momentum to toss him head-first into a dumpster.
The alley was chaos. One came at me with a machete—I caught his arm mid-swing, forced the blade out of his grip, and cracked his jaw with a punch so hard his head bounced off the wall. Blood sprayed. Another tried to stab me low—I kicked his knee backward, heard the satisfying pop, and finished him with a knee to the face.
My knuckles were bruised. My breath was sharp. But I didn’t stop.
Not until they were all on the ground.
Five bodies. Moaning. Silent. Done.
I walked forward. Wiping bloo
