Miles stepped forward into the chaos as two attackers rushed him at once, their fists cutting through the air with force and desperation. He raised both hands, catching their punches mid motion with perfect timing, his grip tightening around their wrists like iron locking into place. For a brief second, their momentum froze.
Then he looked straight into their eyes.
And smirked.
His fingers clenched harder, veins tightening across his forearms as he twisted both their arms inward with brutal precision, forcing their bodies to lean toward each other in a painful collapse of balance. Before they could react, his leg snapped forward
A clean kick.
Both men were sent crashing face first into the ground, their confidence shattering louder than their fall.
Miles stood over them, calm and cold.
"Is that all you have got, Rehman," he said quietly. "Where are your assassins?"
From the speakers, Rehman Nawwar let out a low laugh.
