Chapter 445
Dean scoffed. “Don’t worry, Mr. Sanford. I’ll handle this arrogant fool.” With a single leap, he landed on the fighting platform.
Jerry looked at Dean with extreme contempt and lauded, “If it were Atlas, perhaps he could have given me a decent fight. But you, his worthless senior? You’re not worthy—save yourself the humiliation!”
Dean’s gaunt face turned ashen as he gritted his teeth. “Jerry, you’re only slightly more famous than me. Even if I can’t defeat you, I’ll at least make sure you suffer!”
With that, Dean launched into a flurry of lightning-fast punches. Jerry moved with measured steps, turning left and right before delivering a powerful palm strike that sent Dean stumbling back three steps.
“Garbage!” Jerry mocked, still keeping one hand behind his back.
Dean was enraged and charged forward three steps before leaping high and launching a series of three rapid kicks. Three loud thuds sounded, and Jerry retreated, blocking Dean’s flying kicks with one hand, steady as a mountain.
“Dean has power but lacks finesse. He’s going to lose,” Andrew commented quietly.
Just as he finished speaking, Jerry suddenly exploded forward as Dean landed, aiming a lethal palm strike at the top of Dean’s head. Dean, proving he wasn't completely incompetent, managed to turn his head away at the crucial moment, taking the devastating blow on his shoulder. In desperation, he roared and threw two powerful punches at Jerry’s chest, but Jerry had already kicked him squarely in the body.
Blood gushed from Dean’s mouth as he screamed, flying off the platform and crashing heavily to the ground.
Jerry casually dusted off his chest and asked coldly, “What do you have to say now?”
Dean struggled to his feet, his shirt soaked with blood, his face twisted in a grotesque expression. “Jerry, you may have beaten me, but you won’t win this match,” he snarled. “You’re all going to lose, and someone’s going to put you in your place!”
As Dean limped away in defeat, Jerry’s contempt was evident. Suddenly, two sharp claps rang out—Rodney was applauding.
“Your Octa-Palm technique has really improved over the years, Jerry,” Rodney smiled.
Jerry snorted. “At least you have the eye to recognize it, though you’ve only seen the basics. In this whole Madblade Martial Academy, only your father is worthy of seeing my full power!”
“Don’t be so sure about that!” Rodney’s smile turned cold.
Jerry beckoned mockingly. “Why don’t you come up here and test that theory?” Rodney crossed his legs casually and mocked, “Don’t be impatient, Jerry. Someone will soon make you wish you were dead. Mr. Lincoln, would you handle our third round?”
The towering man, Ivan Lincoln, walked toward the platform without acknowledging Rodney. Jerry demanded, “State your name! I don’t fight nameless nobodies!”
Ivan waved dismissively and growled, “Let’s get this over with. You’re not worthy of knowing my name!”