Chapter 222
Seeing that Zeke was apprehended, Nicole’s eyes flashed with a frosty look. She threw a flying kick at the arm of one of the men restraining Zeke, her movement as quick as a whirlwind.
Jared did not stop Nicole but shot a warning look at the two men. He at first wanted to lose on purpose after receiving Jared’s warning, but his expression changed abruptly when Nicole did not hold any punches. Seeing that Nicole’s kick had arrived, he almost immediately gave up the idea of clashing head-on with her. He let go of Zeke and retreated with a serious look on his face.
Nicole quickly changed her tactic. With the flip of her body in mid-air, she struck her right hand at the second man who apprehended Zeke.
The second man, who was taunting his companion at first for retreating so quickly when the girl attacked, dodged even quicker than the first man when Nicole came after him with a punch.
His intuition from years of martial arts training told him that if he did not dodge this punch, he could end up becoming disabled.

The two men looked at Nicole without the slightest contempt in their eyes now. They both were wary about her. She was not an opponent whom they could take lightly. If they were not careful, they could be beaten to a pulp.
Jared looked on with a hint of surprise in his eyes, as it was the first time he saw Nicole in a fight. Anyone who knew a thing or two about martial arts could tell that every move that Nicole made was neat and to the point. She was not some inexperienced amateur.
Her hands and legs were steady. Apparently, she had undergone professional training. But her movement was strange, not constrained by the moves of traditional martial arts but ever
changing with measured attacks and defense. She knew what she was doing.
Nicole pulled Zeke behind her and looked at the two men with cold eyes. “Who are you two?” She could see that they did not intend to hurt her.
The two men hesitated for a second, and then they both looked back at the unassuming black Volkswagen Phaeton behind them. It seemed that someone important was in that car.
Nicole squinted at the Volkswagen Phaeton. She knew that those who drove this kind of car in San Joto were definitely not as low key as it seemed on the surface.
The person stepped out of the car as if he had seen what had happened.
Zeke hid further behind Nicole, “Help me, Nicole,”
Nicole looked at the man; he was about forty, looking upright, well-built at about six feet two. He looked like someone holding a prominent position for a long time with a natural air of
authority.
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