Eric looked around, searching for an opening—a weakness to exploit, a crack in the armor. But the more he searched, the more helpless he felt.
This man before him seemed like an impassable mountain. An immovable object. A wall forged from sheer will and experience.
He had assumed a stance like a warrior preparing for battle.
His face was devoid of emotion, a mask of cold calculation. And there was something eerie about his pupils that seemed to gnaw on his decision even before he made it.
'Do I have to retreat?'
Eric's jaw tightened as he failed to find a path forward.
"Seems like Eric is struggling to get through the commander of Madrid's defense—Cristian Romero!"
Eric could feel Tonali closing in from behind. The Italian had recovered quickly, and time was running out. Though he had managed to gain significant distance in a short span thanks to his explosive acceleration, he knew he couldn't maintain this isolation for long.
