From Bullets To Billions

Chapter 729: The Healer

The fight between Skull and Joe had been heating up to the point where Skull was no longer even able to focus on what was happening in the battles around him. He was genuinely starting to wonder if he had drawn the short straw compared to the rest of his squad.

Joe weaved cleanly under a couple of incoming attacks, twisted his lead leg, and flicked out two rapid jabs from the side, hitting Skull hard in the head. Each hit was solid, and Skull could do nothing but raise his guard to block. In a desperate attempt to break the pressure, Skull threw out a heavy kick toward Joe’s midsection, but it hit nothing. Joe had already pulled back out of range and charged right back in.

When Skull went to attack this time, he did so with fake intent, carefully setting up a trap just like he had been trained to do in the Black Hand. He baited Joe’s movement, lunged forward, and managed to grab tightly onto Joe’s left wrist, holding on as hard as he could.

"If you keep attacking my face, then even if I’m slower, I can still do something about it!" Skull snarled. "There’s a reason why I’m one of the single digits in the Black Hand!"

Skull twisted Joe’s arm to lock his shoulder, and with his free hand, he swung his knuckle dusters straight toward Joe’s forearm. Seeing what was about to happen, Joe didn’t panic; he responded by winding up his right arm, ready to punch back as hard as he humanly could.

His right arm was a lot slower than his snappy left jab. It lacked that instant pop and was easily telegraphed, meaning that in most situations—even though it was faster now than it used to be—someone as skilled and experienced as Skull could easily avoid it.

Which was exactly why Joe had been sticking solely to the rapid jab that was working. But in this situation, where he knew he couldn’t escape Skull’s iron grip, and knew Skull was committed to dealing maximum damage, Joe didn’t need to aim—he just drove his right fist straight forward.

His right fist landed dead-center on Skull’s head at almost the exact same microsecond Skull’s brass knuckles slammed into his left forearm. An audible snap echoed through the courtyard, and a jolt of electric pain shot through Joe’s entire body.

The impact of Joe’s right cross forced Skull to let go and stumble backward. When Skull stabilized his footing, a cruel smile broke across his face as he looked at his opponent. He could see Joe’s left arm hanging at an unnatural angle, severely broken and flopping to one side. It was the expected outcome when combining the heavy metal dusters with his own raw strength.

"Your damn annoying jab—your secret weapon—has been completely ruined!" Skull laughed, wiping blood from his lip. "So I imagine you’re panicking quite a bit in that head of yours right now, aren’t you? And as for your right hand, you might have gotten a solid hit in, but I imagine those knuckles are broken too.

"This isn’t like a boxing ring, young man. You don’t have heavy gloves for protection or wraps to protect your wrist. And do you know why my nickname is Skull? Because I have a big, hard skull that can’t be taken down! It’s going to be impossible for you to knock me out!"

Joe didn’t want to admit it, but both of those observations were true. His body was in intense pain, and not just from that last clash. The earlier punch to his ribs had hurt badly—though as he carefully bent his side, a spark of hope lit up in his eyes when he realized the sharp pain in his torso was already gone. His passive regeneration was rapidly working behind the scenes.

"What, you think I’m just going to stand here while you try to come up with some clever plan to take me out?" Skull barked, suddenly charging forward head-first, swinging a devastating headbutt straight toward Joe’s face.

Joe moved out of the way, slipping the strike. Even though it was the perfect opening to throw a counter-kick and deal some damage, he refrained, choosing instead to stay on the defensive and duck under the follow-up.

As a barrage of strikes came his way, Joe continued to bob, weave, and step out of the danger zone. Surprisingly, staying strictly defensive was working out much better. The only reason Skull had landed heavy hits earlier was because he used Joe’s aggressive jabs to set up traps. Now, without Joe overextending, Skull had no openings to exploit.

"If you’re just going to run away, then you might as well just run out of this fight entirely," Skull sneered, casting a quick glance off to his side.

If Joe was just going to play keep-away, Skull figured he could simply ignore the kid and step in to help the other Black Hand members finish their fights. But the second Skull turned his head back, a lightning-fast fist came flying through his guard, snapping right into his jaw.

It was a jab. Then another. And another. A relentless wave of jabs pelted his face again, and again, and again.

"You said you had a thick skull, right?" Joe shouted, driving his lead hand forward with terrifying speed. "Let’s see how long it takes to break it!"

Skull frantically ducked and scrambled backward out of range. He stared at Joe in absolute shock, his eyes locking onto Joe’s left arm. It was completely fine. It wasn’t flopping uselessly to the side like it had just a minute ago—the bones were set, and the skin was pristine.

"How... how the hell did your arm manage to heal that fast?" Skull stammered, his confidence completely shattering.

"You said I was running away... but I promised myself a long time ago that I would never run away again!" Joe declared, stepping forward with his guard raised. "I’m taking you down!"