This shit just wasn't right— no, almost everything I heard from this son of a bitch didn't seem right at all. The grip test, acting like everything was fine and dandy, then suddenly telling that they sent nukes all around the world so fucking casually wasn't fucking right at all.
He could've at least alluded to the fact before I slowly got the realization but the motherfucker spoke like he would squash a cockroach using a slipper on a fucking Tuesday.
Seeing him without any remorse at all just made something snap in my head, and I just found myself pinning him to a wall, choking his fragile neck with my right hand.
The guy was already purple when I heard the old man's voice ringing in my ear but I suddenly tumbled sideways as I felt a huge force strike me in my torso, and the next thing I saw was this huge fucking fist about to welcome my face.
"BARTOW, STOP!/KID, DON'T DO IT!"
All I heard was the old man's voice overlapping with Mitch's but there's no fucking way I'm eating a knuckle sandwich for lunch, so I met it with my forehead before I braced my whole body. However, that fucking punch was aimed to go through my face and straight through the wall just from the force behind it so I stumbled at an angle once again though I rolled to recover.
At this moment, I saw a buff fucking dude who was the same size as Mikhail but his hands and forearms were a tad bigger and disproportional to the rest of his body.
But yeah, who gives a fucking fuck, because the moment he threw me a smug smile—just because he threw me over this office twice—I already bridged the distance between us as I aimed to return the favor.
It did catch him off-guard and as he tried to block my oncoming attack using a cross-guard preemptively, I completely welcomed the challenge as I balled my fists with my middle finger's proximal interphalangeal joint nudged forward.
I'm sure as hell pissed to high heavens but I'm not having a contest of strength against someone who screamed arm-day everyday and "natural" testosterone.
With a quick and surgical reverse one-two, I aimed for the specific parts of his huge forearms before I drew my right fist, twisted it in place, and balled it the regular way before I sent it straight to his now unguarded mug in full power.
I definitely broke his nose and he should thank me for it because it was an improvement to his current situation, but he'll definitely curse me for what was coming because I ain't fucking done.
As he reeled in from the pain, I already half-stepped and cocked my left elbow to make a huge indent in his temple but the motherfucker still hadn't realized he needed a few more seconds before the feeling in his arms come back.
Bartow continued still, "WHY'D YOU EVEN CUFF ME?! HE'S THE FUCKING PROBLEM! HE'S JUST A KID! THE FUCK DOES HE KNOW?!"
Oscar shouted back, "Trust me, he knows more than all of ya, that's for sure..."
"THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY, YOU OLD COOT—"
I had to cut in as well, "CALL THIS OLD SON OF A BITCH AN OLD COOT ONE MORE TIME—"
The motherfucking old man suddenly smacked me but I kicked his shin, "YOU FUCKING LITTLE— AHHHH! YOU WANT ME TO GAS THIS PLACE?! I WILL! OH, I WILL IF YOU TWO FUCKS DON'T SETTLE DOWN! LET'S HEAR EACH OTHER FIRST ALRIGHT?! NOTHING'S GONNA HAPPEN HERE IF YOU TWO DON'T PIPE THE FUCK DOWN!
SEE FROM EACH OTHER'S PERSPECTIVE, ALRIGHT?! THERE'S A FUCKING REASON THEY BOMBED JAPAN BUT THEY HAD TO, KID! THEY HAD TO, ALRIGHT?! THEY— FUCK! THOSE THINGS— Those things... We really had it easy, kid... Trust me..."
I let out a huge and long, drawn-out sigh before I returned Oscar's cuffs back to him, "Fine... I apologize for my actions—"
"YOU— Why did I even try..."
I turned to Mitch and Bartow as well, "I apologize to you two as well. I'll let you choke me Mitch, if you want—"
Mitch quickly waved me off, "N-No... That's okay, I knew you'd react but not like that though... I'll accept some kid's clothes for my six-year-old and nine-year-old—"
Bartow cut in as he glared at me, "What about me, punk? You broke my—"
"Looks better, no? I have some painkillers for the pain if you want?"
"YOU MOTHERFUCKER— MITCH! WHY AM I STILL CUFFED?!"