The sly bugger dodged his air blades. Not surprising.

As he wheeled around for the roundhouse, he saw An dart to his left and immediately stop, rolling and standing up quickly mere feet away from him. He couldn't stop the roundhouse so that went, and he immediately put his foot down.

Then the mega increased gravity hit him and he sank instantly to a knee, his hand slapping the floor, preventing him from going straight down. All around he could see the same thing happening to the other patrons. Their panicked screams filled the room.

That's when Johnny realised that his opponent was manipulating weight, he was [i]manipulating gravity[/i].

Sly bugger indeed.

A power like that required concentration, though he was sure that a fighter of his calibre could enact the gravity changes flawlessly without so much as a thought. He needed to get his proper speed back by restoring the gravity in here.

Compensation was key.

An lowered down into a crouch, coiling his legs in preparation for a strike. Johnny wouldn't let him.

He turned a little so An held the center of his view. With his strength, he pushed himself into a stand and reared out his right leg in a straight kick, his heel lashing out at the young man. The bubble of compressed air created there took the momentum of his kick and sped off like a shot, its acceleration way faster than the blades he created. This was an air bullet in all senses of the word; a small, powerful projectile of compressed air that flew at speeds equalling that of sound itself, and hit with the force of a medium-calibre bullet. His fastest projectile attack and, in such a tight space, the hardest to dodge.

Without giving him time to think, he hopped on his left foot and twisted swiftly to the right, bringing his legs upward to his chest again as he landed and stamped again, bringing another double Beat onto the ground to make it shake violently. This close, An would feel the ground shift at least a foot or two into the air and down, an extremely severe earthquake the closer he got to his impact point.

And then, without even waiting for the ground to subside, like he had previously, he twisted round to the left, crouched low and reached out with his left hand, planting it firm onto the shaking, shifting ground, a move he'd practiced as he'd learned to keep his balance during his own moves. He gathered a ball of air beneath his left heel as his body swung around and An came into view again. Then, he made the air pocket explode, rocketing him forward at twice the speed he normally achieved, his hand providing leverage as he shot forward. He brought his right knee up and forward, coating the front of his lower leg with a sheath of compressed air.

The increased gravity kept him low, just the way he wanted it. His flying knee strike was aimed square at An's torso, now that he was crouched. His impact time came in seconds from his burst of speed.

If anything hit his shin, the sheath of compressed air would explode forward, imparting the force of a shotgun blast in that general direction.

His left leg was drawn in close to his body, knee curled up slightly against his chest, as were his hands and arms. If that fighter chose to make a move, he'd be ready.