CHAPTER 181: Resistance and Beta

CHAPTER 181: Resistance and Beta

Fénix was on the floor, the metallic taste of dust and blood in his mouth, his jaw throbbing with every heartbeat. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to move. He struggled to his feet; the room, the splintered wall, and Enid before him seemed to spin around a fixed point that ached in his chest.

Enid gave him no respite. There was no pause, no remorse, no contemplation: she advanced like an icy current and began hitting him everywhere with surgical precision. They weren't random brutal blows; they were strikes meant to disable him: ribs, side, stomach, a series of dry taps that burned his breath away.

"Does that hurt, dog?" Enid said between each blow, with a voice that mixed amusement and contempt. "Don't cry. Learn your place."

Fénix could barely return a clumsy punch, an automatic response rather than an effective one. Each time his fists sought their mark, conscious that he was facing the woman he had loved, his blow lacked true force. He didn't want to break her; he didn't want to hurt her. Something Enid exploited with cruel mastery.

"Always so noble," she murmured. "That's what makes you perfect for my experiment."

A hook to his side doubled him over. Fénix felt the air leave him as if something had been ripped away. He tried to reposition, but Enid was already on him, maneuvering with the speed and technique of someone who not only knew how to fight, but how to humiliate with every move. She grabbed his arm in a wrist lock so clean that time seemed to slow: the forced joint, the restrained body, the leverage applied slowly to maximize pain.

"See?" Enid whispered, her breath close to Fénix's ear. "This is obedience. You barely resist and I've already tamed you. I've never failed with your kind."

Fénix clenched his teeth until he felt his molars vibrate. The bone in his forearm burned, the fibers of his arm protested as if they were about to tear. A part of him, animal and ancient, begged for surrender. Another part, prouder and more hurt, refused to be humiliated until the end.

With a titanic effort, he shook his body, twisting his hip, using the momentum. He felt the lock lose effectiveness for an instant and, with a sharp movement, freed his arm. Blood pounded in his temples, his vision trembled, but he managed to face Enid, both heavy breaths colliding in the air.

Enid smiled with that intimate calm that made her even more terrifying. She lunged at him, ready to recover him, to subdue him, but Fénix, in a second of pure mechanics and necessity, raised his fist with everything he had left.

The blow came sharp, clean, straight to the jaw. It wasn't a succession of techniques: it was the explosion of months of betrayal, pain, pent-up rage. Fénix's hand found its target with the precision of someone who no longer thinks, only acts.

Enid fell backward, surprised, and a crimson thread appeared on her now-split lip. The blood shone brightly under the candlelight. For the first time, Enid's expression faltered; the control that had defined her broke for an instant, barely a blink.

Fénix, panting, felt the certainty that not all was lost. The blood at the corner of Enid's lips was a crack in her armor. His fist trembled, his body burned, but a new flame, small and dangerous, ignited within him: the idea that perhaps, just perhaps, he could fight without destroying everything in his path.

Enid wiped the blood with her sleeve, her smile returning, but this time it was different: sharp, aware of the new equation between them.

"Good," she said, without losing her composure. "Seems you still have some fire left. That could be useful... or problematic."

Enid ran her tongue over her bloodied lip, her eyes shining with a mixture of contained fury and delight. She advanced towards Fénix with feline steps, the silence broken only by her heels striking the remnants of wood on the floor.

"Did you think one blow would balance the scales?" her voice sounded calm, almost sweet. "You still have a lot to learn."

Before Fénix could react, Enid flexed her fingers. Her nails lengthened, black, sharp as blades: they were claws. She lunged at him with inhuman speed.

Fénix raised his arm instinctively, but Enid twisted her wrist and changed the angle at the last second. Her claw traced a brutal line across Fénix's face. The pain was immediate, a burning burst that blinded him. His left eye clouded instantly, hot blood gushed out, sliding down his cheek and staining the floor.

"Aghhh!" Fénix roared, staggering, bringing his hand to his face. Vision on the left side disappeared into a red sea.

His surprise was so great that for an instant he lowered his guard. Enid knew it. She took advantage of the opening and landed a devastating punch, straight to his face. The impact reverberated in his skull like a hammer blow.

Fénix's body was sent flying, crashing against the main door of the room. The wood splintered and then gave way, throwing him through the air into the corridors of Enid Corp. He fell sideways, rolling on the cold, polished floor, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

The corridors were dimly lit, silent and empty. It was night, and all the employees had left the building. The echo of Fénix's ragged breathing filled that metallic void.

Enid appeared in the shattered doorway, her silhouette outlined against the faint interior light. She walked slowly, unhurried, like a predator who knew the prey had nowhere to escape.

"Look at you..." she said mockingly. "Bleeding, blind in one eye, panting like a wounded dog. And yet... you still look at me with hatred. That's what I like most about you."

The corridor became their new battlefield, desolate, with emergency lights flickering weakly in the distance.

Fénix forced himself to think with the clarity of a wounded animal: fighting there, in that room, was suicide. Enid not only surpassed him in technique; she had prepared herself to exploit his weak points. He took a deep breath, clenched his jaw, and began to move.