The single word left Matthew Powell’s lips like thunder cracking the sky.
He stepped into the crowd—and the world immediately turned into motion and impact.
One moment, the men were surging forward with weapons and numbers. The next, bodies were flying. He moved too fast for anger to even catch up, too clean for anyone to read his rhythm. It wasn’t a brawl. It wasn’t even a fight.
It was a sweep.
Men lifted off the ground as if yanked by invisible hooks, then slammed down hard. Wrenches skittered across asphalt. Steel bars clattered. Someone tried to swing—his arm folded uselessly before the blow even finished traveling. Someone else tried to grab him—his footing vanished, his leg buckled, and he hit the ground with a sound that made the surrounding drivers instinctively flinch.
In le
