Johna and Mateo couldn't help themselves. They burst out laughing at Max's calm words.
"Look at you," Johna sneered between chuckles. "Even now, you're still talking big." His eyes narrowed as his grin sharpened. "I really think someone like you has never been punched in the face before."
He lunged. Johna's fist snapped through the air like a piston, straight for Max's cheek. But Max didn't even blink. His eyes simply tracked the motion. His head tilted, smoothly, like water flowing around a stone. The punch whistled past harmlessly.
Then Johna blinked, and all he could see was a blur of knuckles hurtling toward him. Crack. Pain exploded across his face. His head jerked back violently. His feet stumbled, skidding across the tiles.
"What the, " Johna gasped, clutching at his nose. It was ringing, burning. Was it broken? Was it bleeding? He didn't have time to find out, because Max was already moving.
