Brash Neighbor’s Black-Belt Son Challenged a Single Mom — Unaware She Was a...
Chapter 5
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But Maya didn't flinch. She didn't leap backward, nor did she raise her hands in a panic.As the foot swept through the air, Maya took a microscopic half-step to the inside of the attack vector, pivoting on her left heel with fluid, effortless precision. The bottom of Julian's sneaker grazed the empty air half an inch from her hip. In that exact microsecond, without utilizing an ounce of brute force, Maya's right palm gently brushed against the side of Julian's exposed knee, imperceptibly altering his airborne trajectory. Simultaneously, her trailing foot slid softly behind his remaining standing leg.Julian didn't understand what just happened. Gravity simply disappeared beneath him. His balance was completely destroyed by his own forward momentum. He hit the scorching asphalt with a loud, breath-stealing thud, landing heavily on his hip and shoulder. His pristine white karate uniform slid across the rough street, instantly leaving a long, dark streak of black tire rubber and dust across his back.The entire cul-de-sac fell into a stunned, absolute silence.The neighbors holding their phones lowered them by a few inches, their eyes wide with confusion. Arthur's arrogant smirk instantly froze, his mouth hanging open as if his brain was struggling to process the visual information.Julian, his face instantly flushing a deep, burning crimson with pure humiliation and rage, scrambled back to his feet. He coughed, trying to shake off the impact, and shouted that he had simply slipped on loose gravel on the street. His voice cracked with anger as he reset his stance, dropping all sporting etiquette.He charged forward, throwing a rapid, aggressive combination of jab-cross punches straight at Maya's face, intending to overpower her with sheer speed and violence.Maya didn't strike back. She didn't throw a punch, kick, or elbow.She moved like a shadow drifting through a breeze. She weaved her head a mere quarter-inch away from his flying left jab, slipped under his heavy right cross, and stepped inside his guard before his arms could retract. She was executing high-level military CQC—close-quarters combat—a system designed to use an opponent's physical energy, weight, and aggression against them while maintaining complete spatial awareness.Every time Julian threw a punch, he struck nothing but empty air, stumbling past her as if she weren't even a solid object. The faster and harder he swung, the more ridiculous and uncoordinated he appeared.On his third punch, a wild, desperate hook shot, Maya's hand moved like a striking viper. She caught his wrist with a feather-like grip, rotated her wrist to lock his radius and ulna bones, and applied a tiny, calculated lever force against his joint. She didn't break the joint; she simply manipulated his center of mass.Julian spun through the air like a ragdoll and hit the ground again, this time landing flat on his stomach.Before he could even attempt to push himself up, Maya placed the flat of her canvas sneaker lightly between his shoulder blades and pressed a single finger firmly into a precise pressure point on the side of his neck.