Confident Touch

Dillon backed against the wall. Guard up, feet apart, shoulders square, and hands tight until his knuckles bleached. He kept his head ducked behind a solid wall created by his forearms.
He’d managed six people. Each one writhed on the ground in shattered pain. A few with broken arms, some ribs. But the hardest challenge was still coming at him.
A bulbous man who brimmed with strength, skill, and relentless nature.
Three total minutes of torture. That’s what Dillon endured when it was just the two remaining in the alley.
The jacked man kept his own guard high and used his size to overwhelm Dillon. So he followed his plan. After taking out the extras, he’d braced himself and taken hit after hit until he slapped against the jagged brick.
Dillon placed one foot against the wall, ready to push off. He waved the giant man closer, taunted him into approaching. Because Dillon had planned this from the beginning.
Overconfidence. A leering sneer and smirk from the bulky man told him everything.
Dillon had flawlessly taken the other six. But when it came to the towering hulk, Dillon knew he couldn’t out muscle him. He was surprisingly speedy and played to his strengths with a bounty of sumo skills.
So, Dillon used his back up plan. He took hit after hit, strike after strike, all to do one thing. Give a false sense of victory.
The big boy stepped forward.
And Dillon started his counterattack.

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