"You're quite wrong, Ryan."
Standing by Ryan's side up close with almost no distance in between, Rohan's clenched fist made unambiguous physical contact with his stomach, breaking a few ribs in the process of what seemed like an ordinary touch as he said, "I'm still contracted with 'The Writer.' It's just..."
"Argh," Ryan let out a pained sound; the aftershock of that ordinary-looking punch Rohan directed at his abdomen sent him flying to the other side of the field.
Grabbing the ground with his shoes, Ryan barely stopped himself from crashing through the wall. He fluttered his eyes open with difficulty as Rohan continued to speak.
"Destiny and I don't get along, so he made sure to be in my way at every possible chance."
Cracking his knuckles, he said to the barely standing Ryan.
"It's also quite amusing to assume you're stronger than me when you've already used up all of your radiation."
