Chapter 111: 111: Class Of Cops (4)

112

At this time of day; a certain alley in the streets was absolutely crowded. Standing amidst the walls of this alley were police, and a lone, teenage criminal. Juxtaposition. 

A battle between the cops was to be unveiled. Joan; a woman incredibly skilled with her blade, Wyatt a man with incredible courage and an incredible ability, and Alexandro, an Italian officer with a teleportation ability said to be unrivaled. A battle between these officers had only just begun.

Joan assaulted first. She dashed toward Alexandro; her blade firmly in her hands. Forever; from her right, Wyatt had lunged into the air, and was about to sidekick her. She had continued running regardless. Wyatt went darting in front of her. He was blocking her from getting to Alexandro. 

There was a wide space between Wyatt's legs. Joan didn't hesitate. She quickly slid through this gap. "Get outta of my way, Wyatt!" she snapped, still sliding.

Before she could have made it to her feet again after sliding, Wyatt had grabbed her by her uniform. She had eyes on Alexandro. But Wyatt had grabbed her from behind. He grabbed her, raised her in the air, flung her further away from Alexandro. Profound might. "I said I'm not having you two kill each other," he said, glaring. 

Joan had slammed into the ground, hitting her side. Wyatt was strong. She went from rolling on the floor to her feet again, sliding on ground. Before she had even come to a halt again, she bolted toward Wyatt. She was quick on her feet; but much faster with her blade. 

Her swift legs carried her closer and closer to Wyatt. Wyatt stood straight with clenched fists. He was ready. Joan had chosen not to raise her blade to attack him. She simply wanted him out of her way. 

She dashed toward Wyatt. Wyatt had swooped his hand at her in efforts to grab. She ducked just in time, hand swooping overhead. She was in a crouch position. She then quickly jumped; tossing a fist in the air.

Wyatt had received an uppercut. However ... he felt nothing. His head hadn't moved at all from the hit. Joan quickly retaliated. She did three backflips, cartwheeling away from Wyatt. Then she looked down at her swollen knuckles. Her hand was sprained from that one blow. She furrowed her brows, shaking the hand off. 

She could not afford to break her hands. She needed them to wield her blade. She needed them to perform her sword style. She then took a deep breath; and then exhaled. Then, she took another deep breath, and exhaled again, this time frost had escaped her lips. Her body had quickly began to heat itself after detecting freezing levels. Her heart was thumping faster than ever. She leaned forward; and thundered toward Alexandro. 

Wyatt was not ready. Joan zoomed right past him, and toward Alexandro. Where had she attained such speed? He knotted his brows, and quickly turned around. He had to stop her from attacking Alexandro. 

Joan drew her sword. She was ready to attack Alexandro. Alexandro stood cockily; smirking, arrogant as always. She got ready to perform an attack. She kept her sword to a hanging right as she sprinted. 

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Wyatt had suddenly thrown a rock at her as soon as she was about to slash at Alexandro. It collided with her back. She stumbled on her feet; and then fell face-first, no more than an arm away from Alexandro, who hadn't moved.

She clenched her teeth, rolling to her back. She then quickly performed a kick-up, leaping to her feet. Before even touching the ground, she flipped her sword, and thrust it backward without taking aim at Alexandro.

The point of the sword had collided with Wyatt's palm. His palm was as hard as rock. It was enough to block her penetrating Alexandro. A clashing sound like metal against metal, reverberated. Wyatt thrust his hand forward, pushing away Joan and her sword.

Joan jumped into the air, her back still turned on Alexandro and Wyatt. Then, she revolved her body midair—such that she was then facing Wyatt—and landed on her feet again. Her landing fell into a saunter. She started walking, whipping out her sword. 

Joan retained her stark glare. "You're getting my way, Wyatt. You must not stop me," she bolted forward, "Alexandro killed many of us already; he must be cut down!"

Wyatt knotted his brows again. "And you're being foolish, Joan. You're only doing this," he dashed toward her, "Because you want to kill the masked murderer!" 

Joan slashed her blade as Wyatt closed in. Wyatt blocked with his forearm. Joan leaped backward. Wyatt lunged at her. He thrust his fist at her. She sidestepped. He brought back his hand, and then sent the other at her. She sidestepped again, this time gashing her blade into his chest. 

Wyatt felt a vibration in his chest, but nothing more. He was untinged by her weapon. He got an opening. He quickly sunk his fist into Joan's left ribs. Joan was knocked down. She moaned in pain. Some of her ribs were crushed by a single blow.

Wyatt scowled, sauntering his way up to her. "This is pointless, Joan. A swordsman has no chance against me. And since I don't want to kill you; this can go on for ages, assuming you live through it."

Joan crawled backward; a hand lingering on her wound and the other pointing her sword at Wyatt. She clenched her teeth in agony. The newfound bloodlust emanating from Wyatt was perceivable to her. 

Wyatt glared as he approached, clenching his fists. "You know what? Since I can't get you to stop ... I'll have to temporarily steal your consciousness," he stopped, "It's nothing personal. I'm just doing my job," he leaped into the air, stretching a hardened fist back, "brace yourself ... this is," he furrowed his brows as he zoomed toward Joan, "hurt a lot, Joan!"

Joan looked up; taking deep breaths. Wyatt came falling down at her. Frost escaped her lips. She quickly lowered her blade, and began to raise her offhand. She swiped the hand into the air, and ice came thrusting up from the floor.

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