Garp Punches Novels & Stories

He raised his hand and punched Gordon. Bang! Gordon flew back, rolling on the ground a few times before he spat out a mouthful of blood. "You useless trash! How could you have lost to an initial Innate State martial artist with your skills? What are you doing?!" The young man berated angrily. "Please forgive me… I was just careless, and fell for his tricks…" Gordon's face was pale as he climbed on the ground before he slowly knelt in front of the man, recounting what happened.

" Listening to his self-righteous speech, I rubbed my cheek, still numb and throbbing from the slap. Yet inside, I felt calmer than ever before. Maybe it was because things like this had happened far too many times already that I had grown numb to it. Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at Chelsea Miller, the assistant who had just claimed she would smash her head against the wall to apologize to me. I almost laughed. She moved more slowly than a snail, and her forehead barely even tapped the wall. Forget knocking herself unconscious—she probably couldn't even crack jelly with that force. The act was painfully fake, yet Benjamin believed every second of it. This time, I didn't swallow my

I needed to wear him down so I started to push for him to dance and get him tired, my favorite thing. He had landed some good throws and I was feeling it. His bitch started flashing her tits trying to distract me, but I wasn't interested. I did everything possible to try and slow him down but the fucker just kept coming at me. I decided I'd had enough of his shit and went in for my fake left/heavy right combo. Unfortunately Garrett came at me with the same combo from the opposite hands at the exact same time. In slow motion I saw my right fist connect with his head, but his left was connecting with mine. And, then POW … darkness.

*punch* "Stop, you're hurting him," Amara screamed, her hands shaking as shuffled from one foot to another. "No." *punch* "One." *punch* "Please stop, Dalton. That's enough," Amara cried, begging me to stop. "Touches." *punch* "My wife." *punch* "Like that." *punch* "And." *punch* "Gets." *punch* "Away." *punch* "With it." *punch*

Gary was unprepared, so he toppled onto the ground. I pounced onto Gary and gave him several more blows with my fists. But he didn’t even bother to evade my punches. It was as if he didn’t feel a thing and just withstood my attacks. Then, he suddenly flipped over and pinned me down, swiftly dragged me up, and pressed his gun against my temple.

The loud rally resumed. Shaun, having to flinch with the one punch that Irvin had dealt on him, shrugged his shoulder and with one big swing using his elbow, it hit Irvin right by his ear. Irvin fell on the ground with a thudding sound. Irvin laid on the ground and I can see it in his eyes that he’s absorbing all of the damage with such a slower reaction. Shaun was already in heat as he was adept to sit on top of Irvin and he began punching him in the stomach and in the face.

Gar leans forward and Rack strikes again with his fist. "I was a semi-pro street fighter and I'm tellin' you, your man's got moves." I'm almost able to breathe again thinking the worst is over when Gar manages to grab Rack around the midsection, lift him off his feet, and squeeze. Rack's face is bloody and turning purple. He's throwing ineffective body punches because he's in too close. I'm about ready to grab a beer bottle and crash it over Gar's head, when Rack slams both palms against the larger man's ears and head butts him in the nose. Rack breaks the hold, steps back, and swipes Gar's feet out from under him.

"You have gone too far." Before his voice had even faded, Gorga charged. He used no complex techniques. He simply threw a straight punch, a fist wreathed in a thick, brown energy. But the power behind that simple punch was so immense that the air before it seemed to warp and vibrate. The marble floor beneath him cracked instantly just from the pressure wave of his fist.

Gab said, ending the call. Without thinking, Rafe barged into the room. Gab’s eyes widened in surprise, and before he could react, Rafe was on him, fists flying. Rafe’s punch landed square on Gab’s jaw, sending him stumbling backward. Gab retaliated, but Rafe was too quick. He dodged and landed another blow, this time to Gab’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The two struggled, Rafe’s adrenaline pushing him past the pain as he pummeled Gab into submission. With one final, powerful strike, Rafe drove Gab to the ground. His breath came in ragged gasps as he grabbed Gab by the collar, hauling him to his feet.

A figure lunged out of the crowd, unkempt and clutching a knife. My heart sank. Nick reacted instantly, shielding me with his body and kicking the attacker hard. The man collapsed, the knife clattering to the ground. Only then did I see clearly—he was frail, his limbs shaking, no longer the fierce threat he'd tried to be. He groaned in pain and looked up. It was Jayden. He looked like a ghost of himself. Gaunt. Dirty. Hair in clumps, eyes sunken deep into his skull. Clearly, life hadn't been kind to him these past few years.