Panic set into Julian’s eyes. He abandoned technique and charged like a wounded bull,
throwing a wild haymaker. Arthur stepped inside the arc of the punch. With lightning
speed, his left hand shot out, open-palmed, parrying Julian’s strike while his right hand
buried a short, devastating hook into Julian’s solar plexus.
All the air left Julian’s lungs in a sudden rush. His eyes bulged, and he doubled over,
gasping for breath that wouldn't come. Arthur didn't follow up with a barrage of strikes.
He didn't need to.
As Julian gasped, Arthur stepped behind him, snaking an arm around the young man’s
neck in a textbook rear-naked choke. He didn't squeeze to put Julian out; he squeezed
just enough to let Julian know he was entirely at his mercy. He applied pressure, forcing
Julian to his knees.
"Strength without discipline is just noise," Arthur whispered, his voice steady, his
breathing completely normal. "You fight to hurt. You fight for applause. You haven't
earned the right to step on this mat."
Julian frantically tapped the mat, his face turning purple, tears of pain and
humiliation streaming down his cheeks. Arthur held the choke for two more agonizing
seconds to let the lesson sink in, then released him.