Has he caught up?
Noah wiped the drop of blood oozing from his cheek, his heart pounding as he dared to glance back.
Five hundred meters behind him, a young man with a grim expression, resembling Nikaidou Red Maru from King of Fighters, was closing in on him and Hoft. The youth's fingers flickered with several gleaming daggers, each one shimmering ominously in the fading light.
As Noah turned his head, a cruel sneer spread across the pursuer's face. He twirled his arm, and with a fluid motion, another dagger shot through the air, hurtling towards Noah like a venomous snake.
The blade whistled past, grazing the back of Noah's neck. Adrenaline surged through him as he ducked to avoid the deadly projectile, but the maneuver came at a cost. The sudden shift in momentum slowed his pace. He could feel the distance between him and the attacker shrinking—now less than three hundred meters.
Damn, I can't be caught like this. He thought bitterly, realizing that if he fell behind, he would be a sitting duck. The guy behind me only needs to eliminate me; then the first place will be free from any threat.
Frustrated, Noah glanced at the tall, thin man sprinting ahead. Hoft was fast, but Noah knew he had to do something desperate to shake off his pursuer.
Whoosh!
Another dagger whizzed past his ear, slicing the air with a sharp hiss. Panic surged through him. If he kept running straight, he would either end up dead or captured.
With a determined grit of his teeth, Noah veered sharply to the left, diving into the dense woods that loomed ahead like a dark abyss. He moved like a shadow, darting between trees, the branches whipping against his skin as he fought for speed among the obstacles.
The young man hesitated for a brief moment, taken aback by Noah's sudden decision. He hadn't expected Noah to plunge into the forest. It was a cunning move, but it also presented challenges. The trees were a labyrinth of trunks and branches that could easily slow Noah down, and he had no doubt the young man would take advantage of it.
With a smirk, the pursuer steadied his grip on the remaining daggers, flicking them with precision as if they were extensions of his own body. He aimed one dagger directly at Hoft, determined to eliminate anyone in his way.
"You'll regret that!" he taunted, eyes gleaming with malice as he launched the dagger.
Caught off guard, Hoft barely had time to react. He rolled sideways, narrowly avoiding the dagger that would have sunk into his neck.
"Move it!" he barked, pushing himself back to his feet as the attacker darted past him, a streak of chaos.
Without a second thought, Hoft lunged forward, extending his arm to seize the young man's right elbow in a tight grip. He yanked the assailant back with force, ready to unleash a punishing blow.
Hoft was no gentle soul; life on Meteor Street taught him that the weak were prey to the strong. He didn't look for trouble, but he sure as hell would fight back when provoked.
The residents of Meteor Street lived by one rule: strength and survival. In this brutal place, there was no room for weakness. Anyone who wanted to survive had to be willing to wield violence, and Hoft was no exception.
As Ashiu, the young attacker, struggled against Hoft's grip, he quickly reached for a dagger tucked away in his left hand. In a swift, desperate motion, he slashed blindly behind him.
Shing!
The dagger found its mark, cutting a line of crimson across Hoft's forearm. Hoft staggered back, shock flaring in his eyes as he felt the warm blood trickle down his skin.
"Impressive reflexes," Ashiu sneered, turning to face Hoft. "But you'll need more than luck to take me down."
With a grimace, Hoft wiped the blood from his arm, determination igniting within him. "I'll show you what luck really is," he growled, stepping forward.
Just then, a sudden rustling echoed from the thicket ahead, breaking the tense standoff.
Whoosh!
A figure burst through the underbrush, dashing forward like a startled deer.
It was Noah, forced into the woods by Ashiu's aggression, his movements stilted by the thick foliage. But even with the impediments, he pressed on, his eyes locked on the path ahead.
Seizing the opportunity, Noah sprang toward a sturdy tree, his foot catching on a low branch. He launched himself upward, using the trunk's elasticity to propel himself into the air. With a burst of speed, he soared past both Ashiu and Hoft, his heart racing with the thrill of escape.
The iron gate loomed in the distance, an oasis of safety in the chaos. It stood beside a low wall, and Wutong was waiting there, calm and collected, as if the commotion around them meant nothing to her.
"First, pass," she declared as Noah crossed the threshold, breathless but alive.
Ten seconds later, Ashiu staggered into view, a gruesome sight. Blood coated his clothes, his right arm hanging at an unnatural angle, while dark bruises marred his skin.
"Second, pass," Wutong intoned, her voice unwavering, even as Ashiu glared at her, rage bubbling beneath his pain.
The fight had only just begun, but Noah had gained precious ground. The game of survival was unforgiving, and he was determined to keep running, to keep fighting.
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