Cotlin closed his eyes as another touch was felt on his cheeks. The jerk of his skin and the metallic taste that filled his mouth afterwards though he was sure that his teeth were intact. Another day for him to eat meat after going home.
He did not open his eyes but he could see the movement of his enemies clearly. His rough breathing, uneasy steps and the rhythm of his uneven breathing. It felt like an old tune. He had heard it and refined it many times in his mind and when the next punch came forward. He locked the punch in his palm and used the right hand to punch his torso instead. The man jerked backwards but the punch was nothing to break his will to win.
He jumped to his feet and sent a blow for Cotlin on the nose. It sent him stumbling backward in a spray of blood. But he did not fall out of the chalked circle. The cheer of these men rose as they stood around them with their money in their hands.
