The Path Of A True King.-Chapter 11: Jack And Tristan Team Work.

Chapter 51

The air was thick with tension, the stench of sweat and blood hanging in the dimly lit alleyway.

The flickering streetlight overhead cast long shadows, their movements blurring as fists and feet crashed against flesh and bone.

Unlike Kai’s fluid and calculated combat, Jack and Tristan fought with a raw, untamed fury that suited their styles—Jack was the embodiment of relentless aggression, while Tristan was precise and deadly, his every motion calculated for maximum efficiency.

Their opponent was no ordinary thug.

The gang member facing them had the hardened physique of a seasoned fighter, his presence exuding danger.

Scars lined his arms, his knuckles thick with calluses from years of brawling.

A smirk curled on his lips as he rolled his shoulders, flexing his fingers in anticipation.

Jack wasted no time.

With a guttural roar, he lunged forward, his muscles coiling like a spring before exploding with force.

His fists blazed with Ki, veins bulging as he swung a devastating right hook aimed straight for the gang member’s skull.

But the opponent was faster.

He ducked at the last moment, twisting his body with unnatural agility before retaliating with a vicious palm strike to Jack’s stomach.

The impact sent shockwaves through Jack’s core, forcing a grunt from his lips as he stumbled backward, his feet skidding against the cracked pavement.

Tristan, ever the tactician, seized the moment.

He darted forward like a ghost, his movements precise and controlled.

His first strike found its mark—a sharp jab to the ribs.

His second was even more ruthless—a lightning-fast chop to the throat.

The gang member coughed violently, his body instinctively recoiling.

But he did not fall.

Instead, his eyes gleamed with an eerie light, and in an instant, his right leg shot out, wreathed in Ki.

The side kick landed squarely against Tristan’s chest with the force of a battering ram, hurling him through the air.

Tristan’s body crashed into the brick wall behind him, the impact leaving cracks in the stone as he collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.

Jack’s eyes widened.

He clenched his fists, a low growl escaping his lips. His body ached, his breathing uneven, but the fire in his eyes refused to dim. "Damn... he’s strong."

Tristan wiped the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his smirk unfazed despite the pain pulsing through his jaw. He forced himself up, rolling his shoulders as his muscles tensed, his body preparing for another clash.

"Yeah... but so are we."

The gang member in front of them let out a dark chuckle, rolling his neck as the faint glow of Ki crackled around his body like a flickering flame.

His confidence hadn’t wavered in the slightest. "You’re tougher than the usual weaklings around here," he admitted, stretching his fingers.

"But toughness won’t save you."

Jack and Tristan exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them.

No words were needed.

They moved in unison.

Jack lunged first, but this time, he didn’t aim for a straightforward attack.

He feinted a wide swing, his fist arcing toward the gang member’s ribs, an obvious and easily dodged strike.

Predictably, their opponent sidestepped to the right, slipping past the attack with ease.

A smirk barely had time to form on his lips before Tristan struck.

Moving at blinding speed, Tristan appeared behind their foe, his fingertips gleaming with concentrated Ki.

He struck—a precise, paralyzing blow aimed at a nerve cluster in the opponent’s spine.

For a split second, the gang member’s body stiffened, his movements sluggish.

That brief hesitation was all Jack needed.

With a guttural roar, Jack twisted his body, his Ki surging into his fist.

He unleashed a monstrous uppercut, the sheer force behind it making the air tremble.

The gang member barely had time to react before Jack’s punch connected with his chin.

The impact was devastating.

Their opponent’s body lifted off the ground, sent flying several meters back.

He tumbled across the pavement, rolling violently before slamming into a pile of metal crates with a deafening crash.

The crates groaned under the force, some of them toppling over.

Jack exhaled, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. "That should do it," he muttered, shaking his fist.

His knuckles stung, but the adrenaline masked the pain.

But even that wasn’t enough.

With a guttural growl, the gang member staggered to his feet, his body trembling but his will unbroken.

Blood dripped from his split lip, his nose was bent at an odd angle, but his eyes still burned with defiance.

He spat a wad of blood onto the ground and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "That all you got?"

Jack’s grin widened. "Not even close."

The fight reignited.

Their opponent charged this time, his movements a blur.

His Ki flared, his footwork sharp, and before either of them could blink, he was already upon them.

He lashed out with a flurry of kicks, his feet cutting through the air like blades.

Tristan reacted instantly, his instincts honed from countless battles.

He weaved through the attacks, his reflexes razor-sharp, redirecting the blows with precise movements.

But even he wasn’t perfect—one kick grazed his ribs, sending a sharp pain through his side.

Jack, on the other hand, met force with force.

He didn’t dodge.

He didn’t deflect.

He absorbed the blows, his hardened muscles acting as armor.

Each kick that landed only fueled his rage.

His blood boiled, his vision narrowing as he watched for an opening.

Then—he caught the gang member’s leg mid-strike.

"Gotcha."

With a savage roar, Jack twisted his opponent’s leg, wrenching his entire body off balance.

The gang member’s eyes widened in shock as he was yanked sideways.

Tristan didn’t hesitate.

He dashed in, his Ki flaring, and unleashed a brutal spinning kick to the side of the gang member’s head.

The impact sent him sprawling, his body skidding across the ground before coming to a halt.

But Jack wasn’t done.

He grabbed the fallen man by the collar, hoisting him up with raw strength.

The gang member’s legs dangled for a moment as Jack held him aloft like a ragdoll.

"Tristan!" Jack called out.

Tristan nodded, understanding immediately.

He clenched his fists, Ki surging around them, and unleashed a rapid barrage of punches.

Each strike was precise, each one aimed at a vital point.

The gang member’s body convulsed under the relentless assault, his defenses crumbling.

Jack decided to end it.

He drove his knee into their opponent’s stomach, the force making the man gasp, all air escaping his lungs.

Then, Tristan delivered a devastating elbow strike to the back of his skull.

The combined impact was too much.

The gang member’s eyes rolled back as his body went limp.

He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Silence.

The alley was eerily still, save for their ragged breathing and the faint hum of streetlights overhead.

Kai, who had been watching from a distance, finally spoke. "That took longer than expected."

Jack wiped sweat from his brow, rolling his shoulders. "Tough bastard."

Tristan exhaled sharply, rubbing his sore ribs. "We should leave before more show up."

Jack cracked his knuckles, his smirk never fading. "Damn... that was fun."

Kai let out a quiet chuckle. "You’re insane. But fine, let’s move."

They didn’t waste time.

The three of them vanished into the shadows, their figures melting into the darkness just as the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the distance.

Backup was coming.

But they were already gone.