It was probably sheer luck that Don was already in movement with the kick. The hit by Park smacked down with a puft of sandy dust, inches from his head. By the time that dust had settled, Don was back on his feet.

But with his right side slightly sagged, the nerves still in shock and damaged somehow from Eponine's attack. He ignored the pain for the moment. All he felt was slowly building rage.

The people needed to die. Didn't they get it?

Why were not not dying!?