Matty slammed a fist into Jack's stomach, which didn't seem to do much to the masked man. However, his attacks were connecting and Jules was being given the time to recover. That was what mattered.
His own life was inconsequential. It didn't matter if his bones had shattered as long as Jules lived—as long as he helped her to victory. Jack was reeling back from the momentum, surprised more than anything. Matty already figured he wasn't doing damage and he was fine with that. There was no false hope in his heart telling him he was winning this.
"Okay, enough of that." Jack's declaration echoed as he steadied himself. Matty ran towards him anyway, bracing himself for his white fist.
"Huh—"
