Dante reached into the pocket of his overcoat and pulled out a tactical knife with a black, serrated blade, making the metal glint beneath the alley's faint lighting. Beside him, Raniel took a step forward with a hysterical and provocative laugh.
— We're not going easy on you, Michael! — Raniel warned, his eyes glazed over.
The very next millisecond, all three advanced simultaneously. Unlike a disorganized mob, they charged with impeccable synchronization: Dante attacked from below, attempting to pierce the waistline, Raniel targeted the face with rapid open-palm strikes, and Boris launched a heavy assault from the side.
Even surrounded by three continuous vectors of attack, Michael maintained absolute calm. He moved his body within the limits of the available space, dodging, blocking, and evading every assault with short movements. Amid the chaos, Boris threw a direct punch with his closed fist toward Michael's chest. Michael tilted his torso to the side for a fraction of a second; the brutal strike passed straight through and collided with the brick wall at the back, opening a considerable hole in the structure and scattering chunks of debris across the ground.
That strike was dangerous, Michael thought, registering the destructive force without altering his rhythm.
The trio gave him no respite, maintaining the pressure with coordinated and simultaneous attacks. Michael continued rotating his torso and changing his evasion angles to neutralize the sequence. During the exchange, his analytical mind detected an opening in Dante's stance: when attempting a downward slash, the mercenary projected his elbow too far outward. Michael intercepted Dante's wrist, spun the blade in the air, and redirected the trajectory of the mercenary's arm forward, causing the blade to strike Boris's thigh.
Taking advantage of the pair's stumble, Michael spun on his own axis and delivered a sharp front kick to Raniel's chest, sending him flying several meters backward into the alley's dumpsters.
Boris, enraged by the cut on his leg, charged forward alone in a brutal sequence of heavy punches. Michael dodged every one of the strikes with millimeter-perfect movements. A strand of his hair came loose from his hairstyle and fell over his left eye. He used his free hand to push his hair back and fixed his gaze on the giant.
— I'm tired of playing around — Michael declared, his voice cold.
With absurd speed, Michael accelerated toward Boris. The giant tried to raise his arms to form a defensive guard, but Michael altered the trajectory of his advance at the last instant. He passed underneath Boris's arm and appeared in front of Dante, delivering a precise strike to the mercenary's carotid artery. Dante collapsed unconscious in the same second, completely incapacitated.
Boris blinked, trying to process his partner's fall. When he attempted to turn his body to attack, Michael simply disappeared from his field of vision. Before the giant could react, Michael emerged directly behind him and applied a surgical-precision touch to the base of his skull, shutting down Boris's nervous system and making the giant collapse unconscious like a block of lead.
On the other side of the alley, Raniel placed a hand over his aching chest and stood up with a sarcastic smile.
— You really are incredible... Worthy of being the true "Masterpiece" of—
Raniel could not finish the sentence. In practically the blink of an eye, Michael covered the five-meter distance separating them. Before Raniel could raise his guard, an overwhelming punch struck the pit of his stomach, knocking all the air out of him. Without giving him time to fall, Michael followed up with a sharp strike from the side of his hand against Raniel's clavicle, fracturing the bone and causing him to instantly pass out on the alley floor.