>>19554130#2 rushes in, dipping low and trying for a takedown. A jumping knee lift puts those plans to sleep real quick. Thanks, Omega. While she was busy with that, #1 got back on his feet and #3 had circled around to her right. He goes past her, swinging down and reaching for the knife his pal dropped earlier. #1 stepped up, swinging weakly after the damage he had already sustained. Following a few easy ducks and sways, Ash launches a kick at his stomach, sending him staggering back. He remains upright, but as her foot falls back onto the concrete, the downed #2 has the bright idea to wrap his arms around her ankle. Struggling with her balance, she pivots and stomps at his back with her free foot. A few harsh kicks and he releases her. It takes considerable focus and reflex to not fall on her ass, but she manages to catch herself-
-Schkh!-
An ache spreads across her right cheek as #3 slices at her face. She stumbles aside, bringing her hand up to her face. The accumulated audience of drunken passersby gasps. It was, by some miracle, a shallow drag against her cheekbone. A half-inch higher and it could've been her eye. She gazes at her crimson stained fingers, the three drunks gathering together once more.
>It's a good thing my wife isn't here. She lightly smacks that hand against the fresh cut. The three attacker's confidence, high as it was from the seemingly momentum-shifting attack, is stripped away as Romero's lips curl into a teeth-flashing grin.