Reign's instincts kicked in immediately. Without thinking, he swung his right hand like a claw, aiming straight for the the neck.
But just as his nails was about to hit, the Madman moved slightly, and dodged to the side with ease, almost like he knew what was coming.
"Oh, someone's a little impatience," the Madman teased, his voice light and unsettling.
He wasn't just some random illusion—he was something far more dangerous.
Determined not to be outdone, Reign didn't pause.
He hurriedly swung his right hand again, attacking with a series of rapid strikes.
His movements were a blur, each swing coming faster than the last. He was trying to overwhelm his opponent with his speed and ferocity.
But no matter how quickly Reign attacked, none of his strikes connected.
It wasn't because his opponent was faster; rather, he seemed to predict every move.
