One punch landed, and another followed.
After a dozen consecutive punches from Phoebe Faulkner, Zeke Chambers was a bloody mess. Unable to take it anymore, he passed out.
The crowd of men who had gathered to watch the spectacle were left speechless.
"Come on, who else wants some?" After knocking the man out, Phoebe Faulkner clambered off of Zeke Chambers.
She swayed, struggling to steady herself. Turning her head, she saw a dozen—or was it dozens?—of blurry figures before her. A wicked grin spread across her face. She beckoned to the men with a crooked finger and slurred, "Anyone else want to give it a try?"
"Well now, this girl's got some spirit." One of the men, snapping out of his shock, shed his jacket with a smirk. "Who would've thought? You get a little booze in you and turn from a meek little lamb into a clawed Wildcat. Alright then, why don't I be the one to play with you today."
Meanwhile, all of the hotel's surveillance footage had been pulled up.
