Hanging by a thread

The tempestuous gale, this was truly a tempestuous gale.

First came Vin's rapid combination of punches, rendering Renly almost defenseless. The precariousness of his situation caused beads of sweat to form in the palms of onlookers' hands. However, in a breath's pause, Renly managed to reverse the situation, reclaiming his dominance with swift and resolute actions that decisively overpowered Vin.

The riveting exchange held viewers captive, and in a trance-like state, they forgot which parts were choreographed by martial arts direction and which were pure instinctive reactions of two individuals. The clash between Dom and Hobbs had transmuted onto Vin and Renly. Both men were drenched in blood, Renly's cheekbone, Vin's browbone—hot blood blurred and mingled on their cheeks, and the viscous liquid diffused a nauseating stench. The scorching yet brilliant sparks seemed capable of incinerating them both entirely.

Vin felt his strength slowly being siphoned away. When his footing faltered, his waist and core lost power, and his upper body became as rootless as a drifting leaf, finding nowhere to anchor. Yet Vin wouldn't give up; he absolutely wouldn't give up. Renly Hall, this handsome yet seemingly frivolous actor, how could he possibly lose to his opponent? How could he find himself in such a wretched state? How could he be rendered so powerless?

Before the flames of fury ignited, Vin struggled to stand, subconsciously swinging his right fist. However, it was as limp as a noodle, devoid of any force. Renly simply evaded by stepping back and promptly swung his left foot with precision and fierceness towards the back of Vin's right knee.

The leg strike, imbued with thunderous power, collided ruthlessly with Vin's bone, emitting a sharp crack. Consequently, Vin awkwardly dropped to his knees, the intense pain sweeping over him, seizing his throat and throttling him. He knelt on the ground with flushed redness on his face, his body issuing alarms at a cellular level, yet he remained immobilized, unable to stir a single finger.

He resembled a fish on a chopping board, at the mercy of his captor.

This terror contorted Vin's features into a twisted grimace, his pupils wildly trembling. A blend of injured trepidation and the fear of death flooded his mind, rendering his brain incapable of coherent reaction. The potent sense of suffocation seemed as though his hands and feet were shackled, dragging him into the depths of a lake, a boulder clenched within his grasp. Even his most strenuous struggle amounted to naught.

Vin had lost his ability to resist. Renly seized the opportunity, advancing and securing Vin's throat in his left hand before applying force!

The primal instinct for survival awakened the last vestiges of energy within Vin's body. He raised his hands, clutching Renly's arm in an attempt to pry it away, hoping to leverage his superior strength to turn the tide. However, after losing his initial advantage, Renly had firmly seized the initiative. Regardless of Vin's effort, Renly's well-proportioned arm felt like an unyielding boulder, impervious to his attempts to pry it apart.

The scorching breaths erupted in disarray, and Renly's arm could distinctly feel the rapid, rhythmic inhalations, a hot breath so intense it seemed on the brink of scorching the skin. At that moment, Renly felt as though he held a life within his hands, as if with a slight twist, that life would be extinguished at his fingertips, even more fragile than an ant.

The sensation of towering superiority, the sensation of holding the power of life and death, surged within his chest, lifting him up as if he were floating. It was akin to standing at the summit of the world, as if even Jesus Christ himself would kneel before him. However, Eugene Sledge's fear and bewilderment flowed through him like a chilling current, coursing through his veins. His fingertips began to be permeated by blood, as if he himself were being devoured.

This was not him.

Renly clenched his teeth but a flicker of clarity returned to his raging eyes. He was Hobbs, an FBI agent, a protector of his brothers, an enforcer who showed no mercy in fighting crime. However, he wasn't an executioner, much less an assassin. Judgment and execution were not his duties; apprehending criminals was, nothing more, nothing less.

His gaze hardened once again.

Lifting his head, he saw other FBI agents who had seized control of the base, Mia and Brian were already surrounded. He knew the situation was now under control. This time, he wouldn't repeat his past mistakes; he wouldn't allow Vin to escape like he did in the parking lot!

Yet, in that fleeting moment of distraction, Vin found the fissure of weakened strength. He pushed off with his legs, driving himself backward, and forcefully propelled Renly against the wall. Once, then once more, Renly's arms involuntarily lost power. Vin immediately broke free, turned around, and launched a concentrated barrage of attacks.

Right fist, right elbow, left fist, right fist, left elbow, right knee, left fist... a series of continuous strikes once again plunged Renly into a dazed state of distress.

However, just a moment ago, Vin had been deprived of air for two seconds, his strength hadn't fully recovered, and the impact wasn't nearly as powerful as before. Renly quickly regained his balance, surged forward, embraced Vin's waist, and surged forward with unwavering determination. The two smashed through a glass window, crashing into a worktable, causing a scene of disarray.

These were all props crafted by the props team; they weren't as solid as real objects. Yet even so, the materials were authentic. Renly felt as if he'd been struck three hundred and sixty-five times, his body ached and swelled. When the pain reached its peak, the nerve connections severed, leaving no response behind.

"Dom!" Mia rushed forward, shouting loudly. The FBI agents all surged forward, aiming their guns at Dominic. However, Hobbs straightened his posture, taking the high ground. His hoarse voice roared, "Step back! Leave it to me!" Then, his fists came crashing down like a storm, once, then once more.

The forceful blows left Vin dizzy and disoriented; blood streamed from his split brow, even clouding his entire face. It looked truly grim and terrifying. He heard a constant "splurt" in his mind, like the sound of a watermelon cracking open—crisp yet muffled. The conflicting sensations made it seem like something within him had ruptured.

Vin held his breath, clenching his teeth. He raised his hands, meeting Renly's fists head-on. In this direct power struggle, Vin gained the upper hand. Even though Renly's fists rained down from above, they only managed a stalemate. Yet, Renly's momentum was abruptly impeded, causing the rhythm to falter.

In that fleeting instant.

Vin pushed his hands back, successfully toppling Renly. He flipped over, landing on top. He rained down punches, but their strength was insufficient. Renly evaded once again. His left fist struck Vin's lower ribs, allowing him to somersault and regain the upper hand. Although he hadn't fully prepared to launch the punch, Renly's hit landed accurately on Vin's cheek. However, the force was far from enough, and Vin grabbed Renly's right hand, wrenching it with force. The excruciating sensation of almost breaking his bones couldn't be endured even with clenched teeth. Once more, Vin flipped over, regaining the upper position.

This time, Renly didn't wait for Vin to act. Coiling his legs, he launched them at Vin's lower abdomen like compressed springs, forcefully separating their entangled combat and rolling away.

Dominic's hand found an iron wrench, and without a second thought, Renly grabbed it and swung it towards Vin's head. However, in that critical moment, Renly retained a fragment of reason. He aimed inaccurately, swinging down, but in the blink of an eye, his response was delayed. A slight deviation in his mind's eye derailed his precision, leaving the distance between the wrench and Vin's head at least two hand spans, striking against an iron plate.

The rebound force from the iron plate numbed Renly's wrist, causing him to lose balance and fall to the ground.

Seizing this opening, Vin utilized both his hands and feet to once again climb atop Renly. A fist struck down. Although Renly tried to block with both hands, they had already grown weak. They couldn't withstand Vin's formidable momentum and slackened. Vin's fist came down again, striking Renly's cheek. The violent clash of teeth and bones caused trembling throughout his body.

Vin instinctively picked up the nearby iron wrench. However, his palm was in considerable pain, and his fingertips trembled incessantly. Amid embarrassment, humiliation, and shame that surged in his chest, a voice in his mind roared, "Strike! Strike! Strike!" His eyes locked onto the temple of Renly, unable to shift away.

As long as he struck, everything would be settled once and for all!

"Strike! Strike! Strike!" The clamor in his mind grew louder, more ferocious. Vin's eyes turned crimson. Rationality had been utterly consumed by the blaze. Since Telluride, he had loathed the visage before him, revolting. Finally, there would be no more resistance; as long as he struck, everything would come to an end. "Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Danger.

Every hair on Renly's body stood on end. He truly sensed the scent of death, yet, amidst the crisis, he didn't feel fear but calm acceptance. He had already died once. He knew what lay at the end of death. Thus, he wouldn't be afraid, nor would he be cowardly.

Renly turned his head. Blood streamed into his eyes; his cheek was slightly swollen. He knew he was in a sorry state, but as he looked at Vin before him, he realized Vin was in a worse state. The bald head was smeared with blood, the gash at his brow had widened, and tender pink flesh turned outwards, allowing large drops of blood to fall. Dust and blood mixed on his face, resembling a wretched dog.

Ignoring the stinging in his eyes, Renly widened his pupils and fixed his gaze on Vin.

In this instant, he sensed the breath of death, but he also felt Vin's fear. He knew Vin didn't dare to act. Taking a life wasn't a simple matter. It was like Eugene Sledge's first kill on the battlefield. Regardless of whether one's hands were stained with blood, the aftermath of taking a life brought not pleasure but nausea and fear.

Seeing Vin's pitiable appearance, Renly found it laughable. Holding a wrench, Vin, who wielded the power of life and death, seemed like a clown. He touted himself as tough, dominant, and authoritarian, but deep inside, Vin was nothing more than a girl in a pink ballet skirt. Hence, a faint, small, subtle curve formed at the corner of Renly's lips.

It was this faint, small, and subtle curve that reflected in Vin's eyes. A surge of shame rocketed from his soles to his head, consuming all rationality. And then he brought the wrench down.