The canvas shook as Grim Reaper slammed Angelo down with brutal finality.
The bulky man writhed, a groan of pain tearing from his throat. Miles crouched low, his shadow falling over him, eyes cold as ice.
To Angelo, that face wasn't human anymore—it was monstrous. A predator. Something that could swallow him whole.
Miles's voice was low, cutting through the air like a blade. "So weak. I thought you might have some guts. But it turns out… you're just another weakling. Just like the men you sent."
The crowd leaned in, sensing the tension but unable to catch the words. All they saw was their undefeated boss trembling on the floor.
Angelo's lips trembled. "Who… who are you…?"
Miles tilted his head, his expression sharper than steel. "Huh? You try to mess with my property, and you don't even know who I am?"
