This time she moved like liquid shadow, teleporting in rapid bursts—appearing behind Jaehee's bed, above it, to the left, to the right, each position lasting only milliseconds as she sought an opening.
Each time, invisible hands caught her mid-strike.
The first grab spun her like a discus and launched her through the apartment door into the hallway. The second caught her ankle and used her like a wrecking ball against the kitchen counter, shattering marble and steel. The third simply compressed around her entire body and squeezed until her ribs creaked.
"You're embarrassing yourself," the voice said, carrying cold amusement.
Through Yuna's mouth came Daegon's snarl: "Show yourself, coward! Face me properly!"
"Oh, you want a proper fight?"
The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees in an instant. Every piece of glass in the apartment—windows, mirrors, picture frames—began to vibrate with a low, ominous hum.
