That widened smile on Rex's face made Dave's stomach clench. Damn it. I just had to play the hero. The curse was a furious roar in his mind. He had drawn the attention of the most dangerous person in the room, all for a stranger.
His eyes flicked to the girl with the timid blue eyes. She was frozen, her entire body trembling, her gaze locked on Rex with the paralyzed terror of a rabbit caught in a snake's gaze. She hadn't even been able to raise her hands in her own defense.
"Get up," Dave said. "Get up and keep running. If anyone sees you like this, you'll be the first one they target."
The girl flinched, her wide eyes darting to his. For a second, he saw only sheer panic, but then a flicker of understanding. She gave a quick nod, scrambled to her feet, and vanished into the swirling chaos of the brawling players.
Dave's focus snapped back to Rex, who had already straightened up and was now advancing with the slow, confident stride of a hunter who knew his prey was cornered.
"You seem like a fighter who has seen many things," Rex said, his voice conversational, almost admiring. "Your hands prove me right. I can see the scars of a brawler you bear."
Dave remained silent, his jaw tight. I already know that, he thought. He'd had his suspicions the moment he'd first transmigrated. This body, this 'Dave,' had been a fighter, just as Clive had been in his previous life. But as of now, It is only a cruel irony, to be granted a warrior's vessel only to be immediately outclassed.
Rex closed the short distance between them in a blur of enhanced motion. One moment he was several paces away, the next he was right in front of Dave.
Swoosh!
A twisting kick came at Dave's head with blurring speed. Dave dropped his shoulder, the air whistling where his head had just been. He was already coiling to retaliate, to exploit the brief opening after a kick, when a fist was already rocketing toward his face. *
How? He just threw a kick and hasn't even landed yet! The thought was a spark of pure alarm. He's faster than before.
Dave jerked his head back, the knuckles grazing his chin. He could feel the wind of the blow. He gave ground, stepping backwards as Rex pressed forward with another brutal, straight punch. Dave dodged again, the movements feeling sluggish compared to Rex's boosted speed. Seeing an opening, he retaliated, his own hand slicing through the air in a knife-hand strike aimed for the side of Rex's neck.
Chop!
The impact sent a jolt of pain up Dave's arm. It was like hitting solid iron. His hand went instantly numb. Shit!.. Even his body has become harder.
Rex didn't even flinch. The fist that had been a feint was now a trap, and as Dave recoiled from the failed strike, he moved right into the real attack. Rex's leg, which had been planted for balance, snapped upward in a vicious, short kick aimed at Dave's side, his blind spot. Dave had been so focused on the hands and the numbing impact of his own attack that he never saw it coming.
Crack!
A white-hot spear of agony erupted in his ribs. Dave's eyes flew wide, a strangled gasp tearing from his throat. The force of the blow lifted him off his feet for a moment, sending him spinning to crash against the hard white tiles. He landed in a heap, coughing violently, the coppery taste of blood filling his mouth. He tried to push himself up, but a searing pain shot through his torso, stealing his breath. Not good. Not good at all. He was grounded, broken, and almost completely vulnerable.
Rex's smile was a thing of pure, unadulterated bloodlust as he walked slowly forward, each step a deliberate, menacing click on the tile. He looked down at Dave, who was struggling just to breathe.
"Come on," Rex taunted, his voice a low, eager purr. "Get up before I get you up…"