The two were already close. Greedy Wolf stepped forward, bringing the man within striking range. His eyes locked on the middle-aged man's hands, held before his chest with the fingers curved like birds' beaks. Then he suddenly dropped low and lashed out with a sweeping kick.
It was a common feint. An opponent who relied too much on instinct might see Greedy Wolf staring at his upper body and expect an attack there, leaving his lower body exposed.
But the middle-aged man was clearly a seasoned fighter. He leaped high, evading the kick, then thrust both hands down toward Greedy Wolf's face.
Greedy Wolf turned aside, avoiding the vicious strike.
The man's left hand whipped past Greedy Wolf's eyes. Greedy Wolf thought he had narrowly escaped, but the man's wrist was remarkably supple. As the hand passed his cheek, its beak-shaped fingers changed direction and stabbed into the back of his neck.
Agony shot through Greedy Wolf's neck. His opponent's fingertips had sunk straight into his flesh.
Fortunately, Greedy Wolf's neck muscles were thick, so the injury was not too severe.
Even so, the puncture wound bled without stopping.
Greedy Wolf immediately stepped forward to put some distance between them. The two had traded places and now stood where the other had been.
He touched the wound on his neck, then raised his hand. It was smeared with blood.
He eyed the middle-aged man's strangely shaped fingers with deep wariness.
The man's footwork was graceful, and his supple wrists gave his attacks countless variations. That was how he had dealt Greedy Wolf such a blow in their first exchange.
Taking advantage of Greedy Wolf's injury, the man pressed forward with several quick attacks, giving him no chance to catch his breath or think of a countermeasure.
Greedy Wolf remained composed.