No response…
Jet Daoming, ever the silent person, remained hidden within the dense veil of mist, his breathing slow and controlled.
He had no desire to engage in unnecessary words or noise, especially with an opponent like this.
Someone who, by all accounts, seemed to be a little too eager for bloodshed, perhaps even to the point of madness.
'This one… is unpredictable,' Jet Daoming thought, eyes narrowed.
This man's reckless aggression, that almost feral excitement…
'Definitely a madman,' Jet Daoming mused inside his head, a hint of disdain flickering across his mind.
But he was not here to pass judgment, only to survive, and then to strike.
The mist, his creation, was his ally.
It shrouded Jet Daoming and offered him the perfect cover, a shield against the brute force.
The last thing he wanted was to make himself an obvious target for a man who appeared to enjoy pain and violence far too much.
