The Man With Iron Fists 2 Novels & Stories

The clang of fists on flesh echoed through the training grounds, a brutal rhythm under the moon’s silver gaze. Damien Blackfang’s knuckles split open as he drove his fist into the chest of the hulking enforcer before him. The man staggered, wheezing, blood spattering onto the dirt. But Damien didn’t pause. His body moved like wildfire, each strike a crackling spark of fury, each movement honed from years of relentless drills.

He needed more than that to break a sweat. Vilmos's face twisted with anger at Liam's dismissive stance, a sinister grin spreading across his features, his eyes as icy and deadly as a viper's, locked onto Liam. In a flash, Vilmos, known as the Ironfist for his prowess in combat, exploded into action. His feet launched him forward, fists poised like the talons of a hawk, as he leaped at Liam with the ferocity of a lightning strike, aiming to crush Liam's throat with his signature move.

The man moved his wrist and took off his sunglasses. That man was truly an evildoer. He walked toward Storm calmly, his slender hand slowly clenching into a fist. His gaze was suddenly cold. Then, with an uppercut, he hit Storm into the air. Storm spun a few times in the air and staggered slightly after landing. A look of admiration filled the man’s eyes. “Not bad. You’re the first person who could receive my Tempest Fist and still stand up.” Storm’s internal organs were injured and he had a clear understanding of this man’s strength. This was a formidable opponent.

“Get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Her.” Adrian. In a blur, he was on them. The first man swung, but Adrian dodged, driving his fist hard into the man’s ribs. The second tried to grab him from behind—big mistake. Adrian spun, his elbow cracking against the man’s jaw. The man crumpled to the floor with a groan. The first man lunged again, but Adrian’s hand shot out, gripping his throat. He slammed him into the wall so hard the plaster cracked.

I say, standing in front of him while I heat up an iron rod with a designed piece on the part I'm heating. "Fuck you, man." he says, his face bleeding. I hand the rod to one of my guards and they continue to heat it as I pull up my sleeves. I punch him in the face, landing a hit on his cheek where I'd just cut him, then I uppercut him, making him bite half his tongue off, screaming in pain as he spits it out. He now talks weirdly, kind of like he has a strong lisp or something. "Where the fuck is my money, you son of a bitch."

"I don't know what you're talking about! If you don't leave, I'll call the police." The middle-aged man's expression didn't change at all despite the threat. "Hahaha! No matter what, you'll definitely bring me a lot of fun." Just as Kingston Dice, the middle-aged man, thought Felix would actually call the police, Felix sneered. "I do agree with you on one thing— 'you' will definitely be a lot of fun!" There was a flash of light. Kingston reacted quickly. A palm-sized net flew out and attempted to trap Lumen. "The Iron Spirit Realm? You're really not as simple as you look!"

As they immediately struck a deal, I made a hand signal, indicating it was time for my next line of action. A man walked towards us, and my face tightened. Both Olivia and Rowan noticed the tension in the air as the man walked towards us. Rowan excused himself. Wise man. He had an idea about who I was, and did not want to involve himself with whatever I did. He has played his part by talking with Olivia and striking a deal. I was happy that he excused himself. “Long time no see Alexander. I see you got yourself yet another toy to play with. You never seem to change”, the man said with a chuckle.

It hit the wall and shattered, scattering into a heap of twisted metal and glass. The vile voices on the other end went abruptly silent. The study plunged back into stillness. Will lifted his head slowly. His eyes were bloodshot, and the fury burning in them could have set the world aflame.

He grabbed the man’s thick arm with his bare hands and twisted it hard. The sound of the bone breaking was sick and loud. The man let out a terrible scream. But Marcus was already moving. He slammed his knee right into the man’s ribs. The heavy armor did not help. The man flew backward into the dark bushes like a broken toy and did not get back up. A second man rushed in from the side. He held a thick metal stick. He swung it as hard as he could right at Marcus’s face.

The hand reached for him and clutched his neck so tightly that he felt all the air he had inhaled being forced out! “It seems that you cannot handle my rage,” Mane stated, his voice contrary to the fire that surrounded his frame. For his voice was cold and unfeeling. Once his hand touched Number 2 the man’s figure was engulfed in flame and lightning, and the man who was so mad that he charged in gallantly earlier, screamed in terror and pain as his body was reduced to nothing but ash in less than a few seconds. “Ahhhh!”