Bully Lord

Part-134

James was stunned by the display of violence. He had underestimated Dwip's fighting abilities, and it had cost his friends dearly. He knew they had to find a way to turn the situation around, but for now, their priority was to tend to Ryan and Sourov's injuries.

He helped his friends to their feet, examining their injuries. Sourov's side was bruised and tender, while Ryan's nose was already beginning to swell. Despite the pain, neither of them seemed willing to give up.

"We can't let him get away with this," Ryan muttered, his voice filled with determination.

Sourov nodded, his eyes flashing with anger. "We have to find a way to beat him."

James knew they were both right. They couldn't let Dwip intimidate them. But they also had to be smart about it. They couldn't afford to get hurt again.

The realization of their disadvantage was a bitter pill to swallow. Ryan and Sourov, skilled in the disciplined world of Judo, were facing an opponent who fought with raw, unbridled aggression. It was a mismatch of styles, a clash of technique versus instinct.

The confrontation was swift and brutal. Ryan, the first to engage, launched a well-executed Ippon Seoi-nage, aiming to utilize his Judo training to overpower Dwip. However, the smaller boy proved to be unexpectedly agile, dodging the attack with ease before retaliating with a swift elbow strike to Ryan's ribs. The impact sent a jolt of pain through Ryan's body, forcing him to double over.

Seeing his friend in distress, Sourov moved in to assist. His powerful build and years of Judo training gave him an air of confidence. He aimed a sweeping leg at Dwip, hoping to disrupt his balance. But Dwip, with surprising agility, caught Sourov's leg and used it to propel himself forward, delivering a forceful knee strike to Sourov's abdomen. The impact was debilitating, forcing Sourov to crumple to the ground, gasping for air.

Dwip stood victorious, his opponents writhing in pain at his feet. His expression remained impassive, as if he had merely swatted away two annoying flies. The onlookers, a growing crowd of students, watched in stunned silence, their eyes wide with disbelief.

The disparity in skill was evident. Ryan and Sourov, products of a disciplined martial art, were no match for Dwip's raw, instinctive fighting style. It was a stark reminder that the streets were a different battlefield altogether.

Dwip stood triumphant, his opponents doubled over in pain. The crowd, a mix of fear and awe, parted to give him a clear path. He was a force of nature, a raw talent unleashed.

Ryan, the first to recover, tried another tactic. He feinted a right hook, hoping to distract Dwip before launching a low kick. But Dwip was too quick, anticipating the move and countering with a devastating uppercut that sent Ryan reeling.

Sourov, seeing his friend in trouble, charged in, his eyes filled with determination. He aimed a powerful punch at Dwip's face, but the smaller boy easily dodged the attack, landing a swift kick to Sourov's knee. The sharp pain caused Sourov to stumble, giving Dwip an opportunity to land a flurry of punches.