Andrew remained seated on the couch, his expression unchanged, as he raised his leg to intercept Natasha's attack.

"You won't even stand up? Fine! If you're going to disrespect me like this, I'll have to teach you a lesson!" Natasha's chest heaved with anger.

Her combat abilities surpassed Dylan's, and she was just a hair's breadth away from matching Atlas. Yet, this arrogant young man would not even bother to get up from his seat to face her attack, which felt like a direct insult to her pride.

She transformed her claw-like strikes into palm strikes, alternating blows aimed at Andrew's chest. Without even looking, the latter countered with two palm strikes of his own, and their hands collided with two dull thuds.

Natasha felt an overwhelming force transmitted through Andrew's hands, causing her to stumble backward. Meanwhile, Andrew remained as steady as a mountain on the couch, even taking a moment to pick up his teacup for a casual sip.

He commented, "I'm surprised that a