It was pure instinct; the tattooed woman bent her elbow to strike Tang Zheng's belly then quickly drew a straight knife from her side, aiming behind her.
Though Tang Zheng's close combat experience was somewhat lacking, his resilience to physical blows was commendable. In a split second, he forwent the defense of his stomach, quickly extending his hand, grabbing the tattooed woman's wrist. But her strength was significant, and the sharp blade still slid over the protective clothing.
"Damn," cursed Tang Zheng, pressing his hand against the woman's head and slamming it onto the ground. But the ground was soft, made of mud and decayed leaves – if it had been a concrete floor, that woman's face would have been ruined.
The woman only got a whiff of a rotten odor before a piercing pain shot through her arm, making her almost convulse.
Tang Zheng planted one knee against her back, grabbed her right wrist and twisted. Crack! Her entire arm dislocated with a snap, pinned behind her back.
