NOVEL WEB Power
Chapter 3 : Power
A guttural cry tore from Malcolm's lips as pain enveloped him, his body crumpling beneath Joy's unexpected assault.
Malcolm's rage surged through him like a tempest, his chest heaving with fury as he lay sprawled on the ground. Pain radiated from where Joy's blow had landed, igniting every nerve in his body. His voice reverberated with indignation, echoing across the space between them.
"What the hell?!!" he bellowed, the words punctuated by raw disbelief and simmering anger. His eyes bore into Joy's, ablaze with an intensity that could have scorched the very earth beneath them.
"Why did you punch me?!!" The question hung in the air like a challenge, demanding an explanation, an apology, anything to justify the sudden violence that had shattered the peace of the moment.
Joy stood before him, her own emotions a turbulent sea beneath a calm exterior. Her lips tightened into a thin line, her gaze unwavering as she met Malcolm's furious stare.
As Malcolm seethed on the ground, his goons sprang into action, rushing towards him with urgent shouts of "BOSS!!" Their hands moved swiftly, tending to his wounds with practiced precision.
Joy's gaze bore down on Malcolm, her eyes like twin flames flickering with intensity. Her expression was a mask of stern resolve, a fortress of determination against the storm of emotions raging within her.
"You're not what you seem," she declared, her voice a whip crack of anger slicing through the air. "I can sense your deceitful intentions. Don't think for a second that I would fall into your trap, Malcolm."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and defiance, a challenge thrown down at his feet. But beneath the anger that colored her voice, Malcolm sensed a vulnerability, a fear that mirrored his own.
"Are you okay, boss?!" The goon with a bandana asked, his voice thick with concern, a sharp contrast to his burly exterior.
The goon with a hat moved swiftly to tend to Malcolm's wound, his hands fumbling with the makeshift supplies they carried. Despite their rugged appearance, it was evident that their expertise lay in muscle, not medicine.
Joy's eyes blazed with a fiery mix of anger and disgust as she watched the clumsy attempts of Malcolm's goons to tend to his wounds.
Her voice cut through the air like a knife, sharp and unforgiving, as she addressed them with a ferocity that left no room for misunderstanding.
"There are some things that I really hate the most," she declared, her words a thunderclap in the charged atmosphere. "Liar is one of them!!"
"What do you mean by that, I'm not a liar?!" Malcolm retorted, his voice thick with indignation, a spark of anger igniting within him.
"You told me that you work as a miko in the temple, right?" Joy's words dripped with disdain, her gaze piercing through Malcolm like a dagger. In her eyes, there was no room for doubt, only a steely resolve to uncover the truth.
"I told you, I really work as a miko," Malcolm replied without hesitation, his voice firm despite the unease churning within him. Instinct drove him to cling to his lie, a desperate attempt to shield himself from the storm of suspicion brewing around him.
But even as the words left his lips, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at his conscience. Beneath Joy's scrutiny, his falsehoods seemed fragile, ready to crumble at the slightest provocation.
Despite being man who done this kind of thing for a long time Malcolm doesn't even understand why he is scared. With his body and brawns versus Joy who is frail and tiny there is no doubt he can take her on. But this time it's different, this time he felt fear
Despite his years of experience navigating the treacherous waters of deception and manipulation, Malcolm found himself grappling with an unfamiliar sensation: fear. It gnawed at the edges of his consciousness, a shadowy presence lurking just beyond his grasp.
As he stood before Joy, his towering frame a stark contrast to her delicate figure, Malcolm couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping over him. Logically, he knew that he held the advantage—his strength and brawn pitted against her fragility—but this time, it was different.
"So are you a transgender or something, because only a female could work as a miko in the temple?!" Joy's words rang out with a sharpness that cut through the air like a blade, her anger and rage simmering beneath the surface.
In her accusation, there was a rawness, a vulnerability laid bare for all to see. It was a challenge hurled at Malcolm's feet, daring him to confront the truth that lay hidden beneath his carefully crafted facade.
And as the weight of her words hung heavy in the air, Malcolm found himself at a loss for words. In that moment, faced with Joy's unrelenting fury, his carefully constructed defenses crumbled, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.
With a fierce determination burning in her eyes, Joy confronts Malcolm and his goons. With lightning speed, she delivers a powerful kick to the chests of two of them, sending them crashing to the ground, incapacitated.
The goon with a bandana lets out a pained scream, clutching his injured ribs. "Ugh! My ribs!"
The goon with a hat staggers back, his
face draining of color as he coughs up blood, the realization of what just happened hitting him like a freight train.
Seeing his companions disabled, Malcolm was so terrified he never expected that a beautiful frail teenage girl could take him on and his goons down in just a punch and a kick
Joy's narrowed gaze pierced through the air, her words laced with fury as she clenched her fists in a display of simmering anger. "I had believed you to be a virtuous soul, tending to the sacred grounds of the temple," she spat, her voice trembling with betrayal. "But now, it's clear to me that you're nothing but a deceitful, despicable pervert!"
Malcolm's shock-filled gaze remains fixed on his companion, aghast at the unfolding horror.
Sensing Malcolm's distraction, Joy snaps, "Focus on me, you pitiful excuse for a human!" With a swift and forceful kick, she shatters Malcolm's jaw, sending him sprawling across the alley. Teeth scatter like shattered pearls amidst the chaos.
The impact of the blow propels Malcolm into the building, creating a jagged hole in its facade. Amidst his agonized cries, Malcolm writhes in agony.
The room fell into a stunned silence as Malcolm's body hurtled through the air, crashing into tables and chairs with a sickening thud. Gasps of horror and shock echoed off the walls as onlookers recoiled in disbelief. Malcolm's contorted face, swollen and disfigured, sent shivers down their spines, amplifying their fear.
As Joy stepped into the wreckage, the full weight of her actions crashed down on her. The once lively restaurant now lay in ruins, tables overturned, food scattered across the floor. She saw the patrons, frozen in terror, their expressions ranging from confusion to anguish.
Joy felt a flush of embarrassment spread across her cheeks as she scratched her head awkwardly. "Oops, looks like I overdid it, hehe," she muttered to herself, hoping to alleviate the tension even just a little."
Suddenly, a teenage boy emerged from the crowd, his eyes blazing with anger as he pointed accusingly at Joy.
"HEY YOU!!!" he yelled, his voice cutting through the stunned silence like a knife.
Joy froze, her heart racing as she met the boy's gaze. She could feel the weight of his accusation bearing down on her, her stomach churning with guilt.
To be continued....