Where she expected the vulnerable tissue of his abdomen, her fist found itself slamming into the tough meat of her father's arm. She wasn't too surprised that her attack failed; her father was the pioneer of deep-prediction systems of thought. It would be far too easy if something of that caliber managed to catch him off-guard.
But she was just getting started.
Her fists flew forth as she continued gathering more and more data. With her father, there was no point in using information of old from previous sparring sessions because it was useless. He constantly changed, or at least none of her old causality models were ever useful.
It was like his muscle memory was water too, unable to ever be pinned down. Or at the least, she wasn't able to force him to bring out his true fighting patterns.
BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!
