The sheer force behind it immediately rattled through both arms.
And when Jin finally looked up, he saw another man staring directly into his eyes from behind the crossed blades.
The eyes he saw were completely cold and empty.
The man looked to be around Jin's age, maybe a little older, with short dark hair and a lean build wrapped in light combat gear. Nothing flashy. No oversized armor or ridiculous weaponry.
Just a narrow black blade pressed hard against Jin's katana.
And the terrifying part?
The man wasn't straining.
Jin was supposed to be the master of any weapon, yet he was struggling.
The pressure behind the strike vibrated through his arms violently, his boots grinding against shattered pavement as he fought to keep the blade from crushing through his guard completely.
Then the man moved again.
Fast.
Too fucking fast.
The pressure vanished from him instantly.
Jin's instincts screamed.
He twisted sideways without thinking, and a silver blur sliced past his cheek.
