The men's approach was swift and brutal. Three of them lunged at Stacy simultaneously, each one moving with a ruthless intent that would have sent anyone else into a blind panic.
But Stacy remained calm, her breathing steady, her gaze sharp as she assessed their positions in an instant. Her senses sharpened, and it felt as if time slowed, every movement around her suddenly detailed and precise.
The first man aimed a powerful kick, his foot cutting through the air toward her chest. The second, a burly figure with a clenched fist, threw a punch directly at her face.
Meanwhile, the third man approached from behind, his arm raised, fingers poised to grab her hair and pull her down into submission.
With almost supernatural reflexes, Stacy ducked, sidestepping the kick and letting the punch fly past her cheek. She spun sharply, raising her elbow, and with practiced precision, struck each man in his weakest points.
