Rdr2 How To Block Punches Novels & Stories

Then exhaling at the same time I threw the punch. My first punch barely grazed him, making the onlookers chuckle. “Come on Kora. Punch him like you mean it.” Zara. I tightened my fist and threw another one. The second was worse. “Stronger,” he said. “I am trying.” He stepped closer—too close. His hand caught mine mid-swing, guiding it with firm precision, my side burning up again. “You are hesitating. You think too much. In combat, thinking gets you killed.”

I leapt back, landing in a crouch, and the crowd roared. He didn’t give me time to reset. A barrage of blows followed, fists aimed for my ribs, my jaw, my shoulder. I blocked two, let one glance off my arm, and used the momentum to drive a palm strike toward his chest. He twisted, catching my wrist, and spun me halfway around before I broke free.

He frowns and stands next to me, taking his position as we walk in a circle, waiting for the right time to start the battle. I make my first move, lunging forward with my hand aimed at his jaw. He blocks it effortlessly, his arm a solid wall against my strike. Without missing a beat, he swings a punch at my face. I duck just in time, feeling the rush of air as his fist grazes past. Using the momentum from my dodge, I pivot on my heel and drive a powerful kick into his knee. A satisfying thud echoes as my foot connects, and he crumples to the ground, his balance lost.

I let him stumble past me, off balance, then drove a solid punch into his ribs. He grunted but came back fast, charging again. The crowd scattered, making space as our fists flew. I blocked, dodged, and landed another hit. One of his punches clipped my shoulder, but the adrenaline drowned out the pain. People were shouting now. Someone yelled at us to stop, but neither of us listened. At that moment, nothing else mattered and I just wanted to shut him up for good. I shoved him back, arm pressing against his throat, slamming him into the wall of the booth. The whole thing tilted like it might fall.

Trust me. The first masked man lunged forward, a glint of steel catching the dim light. Rowan blocked the blow effortlessly, his movements precise and deadly. His fist connected with the man’s jaw, sending him sprawling onto the concrete floor. Another attacker rushed in, only to be met with Rowan’s swift kick, knocking the weapon from his hand.

He nodded and regained his steady feet. Two can play this game. The bell sounded again, and we both went after each other. I threw the first punch, but he blocked it and landed a kick to my bruise. I let out a whimper and pushed back tears. From the smirk on his face, I knew he was intentionally targeting my injury. It was a cheap move. I ran at him and threw punches as fast and as hard as I could. He only blocked half of them. Soon he was falling over, so I helped him and jumped on him. He hit the ground and looked up at me with worry before I landed a finishing blow to his face.

He drove his forearm into my throat, pinning me. Maya screamed. “NO—STOP—GET OFF HIM—” I grabbed the man’s vest, twisted, and slammed him into the opposite wall. He swung a punch. I blocked it, grabbed his wrist, and snapped it. He screamed. I didn’t let him finish. I drove my fist into his jaw, then his throat, then his ribs. He collapsed, gasping. I grabbed my gun off the floor. Torres shouted from behind cover, “Boss—they’re pushing us back—”

I blocked with my claws and the claws drove me to my knees. The man pressed down with all his might and I had to put in some effort to not be overcome. He kicked me in the chest and I fell on my back but rolled out of the way milliseconds before the cutlass slammed where I was laying. I got to my feet, he was right up in my face again, giving me no chance to counterattack or think. He rushed me into one of the pillars of the sitting room and then threw a punch at my face. I dodged, his fist slammed into the reinforced concrete of the pillar and left a tiny dent in it.

Eyes couldn't lie. I immediately greeted him with a punch to the face that he couldn't dodge in time. It was a powerful punch. He staggered back and almost fell. He furrowed his brow as he wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. There was blood there. Without hesitation, I closed the distance and was about to deliver a strong kick that he blocked with his leg. He had caught my leg, and he was about to throw me when I suddenly jumped and kneed him in the jaw. He let go of my leg. He fell.

Pain flared in my ankle, but I forced it down. Ryker lunged first, swinging a fist at my jaw. I dodged, but his knuckles scraped past my cheek. Heat burned my skin. Huh. I see someone has been practicing his fighting techniques. He pressed forward with another punch, this one aimed for my ribs. I caught his wrist mid-air, twisted, and slammed my elbow into his side.