Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 108768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“You think I’m going to let a book of rules dictate how you and I proceed with Monique?”
“Unless you give her an official title, I and any other man can pursue her. Those are the rules of the East.”
Seething, I took a step forward. “Did Banks hit you so hard today that you cracked your fucking mind? Step aside!”
Duck glared at me.
I stiffened. “Cousin, do not make me hurt you more than necessary.”
“Could you love her?”
The question was more than just words. It was a knife, digging into wounds not yet healed. It forced me to confront emotions that I had carefully tucked away behind walls of sorrow and memories.
The mere thought of opening up to someone new, especially after losing someone I loved so deeply, felt like a betrayal.
Grief was a haunting specter, casting shadows on any newfound joy or affection.
Yet, Monique’s presence brought a warmth, a pull that I couldn’t deny. She evoked feelings that I hadn’t expected, desires I hadn’t anticipated.
It was as if two forces were warring within me—the sacredness of past love and the undeniable allure of a new beginning.
Chen cleared his throat. “Okay. I think this is a good place to stop. Tonight let us all have our space—”
“You can’t answer the question.” Duck touched his chest. “But I could answer the question on if I could love Monique.”
“I don’t need you to answer it.”
“But I could love her.” Duck’s gaze brightened. “I really could. Every day too. Never would she wonder if my heart wasn’t hers.”
“That’s enough.”
“You couldn’t promise the same.”
“That’s a fucking enough!” I charged for him again.
This time, Duck was more than ready. With a feral growl, he lunged forward, catching me off guard. His fists, like bolts of lightning, flew at me, left and right.
I managed to deflect most of his blows, but one solid punch landed on my ribcage, knocking the wind out of me.
Stumbling back, I gritted my teeth and tried to regain my composure, but he was relentless.
He followed up with a spinning kick, aiming for my head.
Barely ducking in time, I felt the rush of air as his foot passed just above me.
Son of a bitch.
Seizing the moment, I tackled him, trying to pin him down, but he was agile, wriggling out of my grasp.
We were a whirlwind of motion, each trying to gain the upper hand.
The Arena of Echoes reverberated with the sounds of our struggle.
Our bodies collided into a high-octane battle, both of us engaging in a fierce exchange of blows. Years of rigorous training on this very mountain had honed our bodies and reflexes, transforming us into formidable opponents.
My every punch was met with a block, every kick with a dodge.
Likewise, every move Duck made, I was there to parry.
Our fight quickly turning into a dance of power and precision.
Our breaths grew ragged, the air filled with the sound of our grunts and the impact of flesh against flesh.
Our combat evolved; the Arena of Echoes became no longer capable of containing our clash.
Duck broke away from me, sprinting up the slope of Mount Utopia. A trail of dust kicked up behind him.
My gaze flickered from the rapidly ascending figure to the peak, determination rekindling in my eyes.
Duck was trying to take the high ground, hoping to turn the terrain to his advantage.
I wouldn’t let him. With a deafening roar, I charged after him. My feet dug into the stones, propelling me upwards.
The steep incline did little to slow us down.
We were two figures locked in a race.
Our pursuit slicing a path of chaos up the mountain.
In a sudden turn of events, Duck launched himself off a jutting rock and flipped until his body catapulted into the air.
Fast, I followed suit, leaping off the incline with a force that sent me soaring after him.
Our fight took to the skies.
Surely, it was a spectacle to behold for those below.
Floating, our bodies, silhouetted against the azure sky, twisted and turned in mid-air, the force of our momentum propelling us higher.
I kicked out, a swift aerial strike aimed at Duck’s chest.
He twisted his body, narrowly avoiding my foot. His counter came in the form of a punch, swift and powerful, aimed at my midriff.
I blocked it with an arm.
Then, gravity reasserted itself.
Our descent began and we crashed to the ground.
But there was no rest.
No pause.
We rolled to our feet in the dirt and squared off once again.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed movement, two figures—Chen and Hu—sprinting up the incline.
Chen, being the older and more experienced of the two, led the charge. His voice echoed across the mountainside. “No more!”
But we were beyond the point of listening, lost in our own whirlwind of rage and frustration.
Hu sprinted past Chen and flung himself between Duck and me, his arms spread wide, just as another punch was about to be thrown.