Jiang Yue's combat boots never even left the floor.
His waist and hips did not drive backward the way an ordinary person's would when dodging. Instead, defying conventional mechanics, his pelvis dropped sharply and his knees turned inward by the slightest degree.
That sudden drop in his center of gravity and tiny inward turn of his knees shifted his upper body three centimeters to the left, with none of the movement one would expect.
The rushing fist tore through the air past his ear with a shrill whistle.
Three centimeters. A hair's breadth. The burly man's full-force straight punch missed completely.
All that unrestrained force became deadly momentum, carrying him toward disaster.
His massive, nearly two-hundred-pound body pitched forward uncontrollably, leaving his centerline wide open.
Just as their cheeks were about to brush past each other, Jiang Yue moved.
His right hand, which had hung loose at his side, did not form a fist. He pressed his fingers together like a blade, raised the heel of his palm slightly, and placed it precisely against the burly man's exposed ribs.
He had less than five centimeters in which to strike.
There was no earthshaking explosion. Only a dull thud, like a wooden mallet wrapped in thick leather striking solid, rotted timber, sounded across the arena.
The burly man, who had looked so fierce and vicious a moment before, felt Jiang Yue's hand touch his ribs. His eyes bulged, their bloodshot whites filled with shock and disbelief.
The savage grin froze on his face, then gave way to an expression twisted by unbearable pain.
To his horror, the hard abdominal muscles he prided himself on—muscles tough enough to withstand slashes from ordinary blades—had offered no protection against Jiang Yue's seemingly gentle touch!
"Urgh—!"
The burly man could not even manage a full