Lights out

Jett whimpered and remained stagnant. He’s barely catching his breath when another punch made contact on his face. Jett’s head burrowed on the ground.

“You call this an improvement? I’m barely sweating.”

Timber scoffed and bolted.

Timber had fought monsters countless times, and each time, he would assess the situation, the weakness, how they move, how they respond, and assimilate his skills. But now, he’s compromised, he didn’t know until Alastor told him what is the true situation. Of course, the thought that there could be someone responsible for this attack, but controlling a large number of monsters is impossible to think. Only that, he never considered that they would have the guts to come back.

Timber made a promise to himself that if Hannibal would dare to continue his errors, then he would use every ounce of strength he has to stop him.

Lying on the cold, dusty ground, Jett's eyes squinted and began to chuckle. He gathered the dust on his palm threw it in the air.