Damon's arms coiled like a vice around Kofi's neck as he tightened his hold.
As he leaned closer, the thrill of control infused his voice, which was hardly more than a whisper, and the intensity of the moment surged through him.
"What now, huh? Sleeping to chopsticks and Leprechauns...what a failure," Damon muttered.
He wasn't exactly a trash talker, and even as the words left his mouth, he felt a bit awkward.
But at this moment, it didn't matter.
Kofi was still fighting. His arms, though weakening, were still struggling against the choke.
The referee moved in, lifting Kofi's arm to check if he was still in it, and it stayed firm, refusing to drop.
Damon's muscles burned, and while he couldn't see the time on the clock, he estimated the fight had dragged on for longer than expected.
He knew time was running out.
If he didn't finish Kofi soon, the bell would save him, and that wasn't an option.
