Jagger didn't hesitate.
His heel drove into the floor.
Crack.
The wood beneath him splintered as force transferred cleanly through his frame, hips rotating and shoulders snapping forward in one continuous motion. He launched in a straight-line burst, center of gravity low, blades aligned with intent. The Bowie knife led, angled slightly inward, aimed not just for her heart but to force a reaction.
Distance collapsed in an instant.
Soo-min's pupils shrank.
At the final fraction of a second, she shifted, not backward but off-line. A subtle pivot of her lead foot allowed her torso to slip just outside the killing angle. The Bowie knife carved past her face, close enough to slice a thin line along her ear. Blood flicked into the air.
Jagger did not overextend.
His shoulder rolled through the miss, momentum flowing smoothly into his second hand. The Scavenger Fang came up from low right to high left, a rising diagonal meant to open her abdomen and drag upward through the ribs.
