Dexter DeShawn, that fat bastard, walked over, placing himself squarely between Mait and the two Voodoo Boys bodyguards. The fat pig's bulk blocked their muzzles. This was an opportunity.
In theory, it was an opportunity.
Mait had plenty of confidence in his speed-he was just trading his physical fitness for money. That was how he comforted himself.
But in reality, he was risking his life for money: after all, an athlete who ran too slowly would, at worst, fail to make any money. If he ran too slowly now, he would be turned into mincemeat on the spot.
No, that wasn't right either: Boss Burger King had said that as long as he could connect, he could instantly burn out the Voodoo Boys' equipment and people. That sounded far too fantastical. Honestly, he didn't believe it at all.
So he was throwing his life away for money.
Tension, fear, and excitement drew out his body's potential. Adrenaline surged, his mind became intensely focused, and Mait felt as though the world had slowed down:
He wondered whether this was what activating a Sandevistan felt like.
Smack!
Mait wasn't very old, but he was strong. Dexter DeShawn's hand was knocked aside in an instant. He watched in astonishment as Mait charged straight at him, but very soon, he felt as though he had plunged into an ice cellar:
The kid was running forward right along the edge of his fat body. The little bastard was using him as a human shield!
Dexter DeShawn clearly saw the Voodoo Boy facing him raise his gun-
The Voodoo Boys wouldn't give a damn about the life of a "doormat" like him!
Splat!
But what he saw instead was the Voodoo Boy's head bursting like a watermelon!
Boom!
A deafening blast like an explosive detonation followed.