The hem of his trench coat swept a dashing arc through the wind and snow.
Having anticipated his opponent's move, Jason followed up without hesitation with a twisting side kick.
After repeated probing, the wild dog finally bared its fangs and bit down on its prey's neck.
By the time the dark figure reacted, the thick sole of a military boot had already met his face.
Power surged from the base of Jason's thigh, channeled fully into the man's face through the rotation of his joints and the extension of his calf. In that instant, the dark figure felt as though a wrecking ball swinging down through ninety degrees had struck his head. Not only were his brains churned to mush, but his skull and cervical vertebrae were shattered to bits.
Bang-!
Under the crushing force of the kick, the dark figure flew backward at eighty miles an hour, dragging a long trail of blood through the snow before crashing headfirst into the wrecked bus and hammering a terrifying dent into its metal shell.
Having fought his way out of blood-soaked street battles, Jason possessed terrifying explosive power. He needed no elaborate maneuvers, only simple punches and kicks.
When they landed on an opponent, each could become a devastating blow.
But that was also his biggest problem.
Putting his full strength into every attack gave his moves an extremely long windup. Against weaker opponents, he could mow down swathes of them, but against powerhouses like Deathstroke and Thomas Wayne, his offensive capability approached zero once they saw through his moves.
Thomas Wayne had not rushed to change Jason's fighting style. During their sparring sessions, he focused more on developing Jason's tactical thinking.
"Think more. Learn to fit some thinking between your punches."
"A heavy punch is a good choice, but