"I've fought some crazy ass enemies, but you're one fucked up broad." Kazz growled. She had dodged the fifteenth attack in the last sixty seconds.
Despite her speed, the Ghost Cat found it exceedingly difficult to attack Minx. She wasn't on the defensive because of the Shadow Cat's overwhelming strength; she was defending because she couldn't attack!
Minx's body oozed miasma that created afterimages as she struck, which were extremely difficult to look at. It also had a track record of creating shadow clones, concealing her body to create the clones, which was equally lethal.
The Shadow Cat switched between melting into her shadow clone and melting into Kazz's shadow or the shadows around it. As a result, she was constantly masked in three directions simultaneously: both sides and the center.
It was also getting worse.
"I'd be so fucked if it were nighttime." Kazz laughed in disbelief, "I need to finish this quickly."
Consider giving Playboy Cultivator in the Apocalypse a shot. This novel [necessitates] I write it. It's a quality novel that [embraces] all the cliches that drive me crazy. I'm using that as fuel to drive the humor in Leon's looming lemon playboy lifestyle. So please don't think I'll drop HG if you give it a read; it's the other way around. :)