The sound of hurried footsteps thundered through the nearly empty parking lot as the five remaining masked men rushed toward Jerry like unleashed hounds.
Some gripped metal bats, Others pulled out daggers, And one of them cracked his knuckles so loudly, it echoed in the silence like a warning shot, But Jerry didn't move.
He just turned his head slowly to the side, calmly rolled the sleeves of his shirt, and drew in a quiet breath as if he were about to stretch… not enter a brawl.
Then, like lightning, they were on him, the first attacker, armed with a short dagger, came lunging forward with a wild stab aimed at Jerry's stomach. But Jerry twisted his torso slightly to the side, caught the man's wrist with one hand, and with a brutal palm strike to the elbow joint, bent it backward with a sickening crack!
