One of the A-rank men caught him with a dirty palm strike to the throat, and Ryan tasted panic, sharp and quick. His will answered before his brain could. He pushed, found the angle, and drove a hook that took the man's temple like a verdict. He was the crew leader. He could not fall. He would not.
The fight compressed into a tight knot where each man tried to be better than the moment. Ryan found himself breathing through the worst bits, leaning into each hit like a man who had read the book of pain and chosen which chapters to skip.
Maya kept him covered, delivering quick low hits and catching the men who tried to flank him. Daniel and Aiden circled, picking off stragglers with the easy confusion of men who had already won.
Then the last gasp. A tall one, shoulders like a ram, came at Ryan with a scream like a person trying to prove something. Ryan moved, feeling time bend just a fraction. The hook connected. The tall man stumbled, then went down like a tree losing root.
