[Fight Scene— Continuation]
Punch let out a victorious laugh, striding forward as if the desert itself belonged to him. "Finally," he muttered, cracking his knuckles again, "time to see if the so-called prodigy can survive a proper test."
Jasmine shifted into her stance, muscles coiled like springs ready to snap. The heat pressed against her skin through the illusion, sweat forming despite no real sun touching her. She narrowed her eyes, scanning the landscape and Punch, judging his movements, calculating the balance between speed and distance.
Punch mirrored her, moving with exaggerated confidence, his shadow stretching across the shimmering sand. "Come on, Jazzboy," he called, voice echoing slightly in the wide-open illusion. "Show me what you've got."
Jasmine's lips curled into a smirk. As she keeps calculating her next move.
