No matter how hard he tried to jerk or thug his arm, the boy's hold was like a firm vice; the bald bossman was just unable to pull free. Even worse, his grip was turning unbearable, his fingers dug further and further, testing the elasticity and sturdiness of his skin. Added with the metal covers that actually served the boy's grip better than his wielder's, the leader soon found himself growling and groveling.
"Aaaargh! Let go, you bastard!" Unable to hold back anymore, he cried, quickly lunging himself into the second wave of attack. His right leg kicked out, his stretched muscles carrying all of his remaining strength in a desperate attempt to free himself from this living incarnation of hell.
