Brian pointed a finger at him, voice steady but sharp. "You're not a cool guy—you're a shit. A thug pretending to be a soldier. That's why your boss kicked you out. Even the street scum knew you were an ass. You're just trash waiting to be tossed."
Then, with a smirk, Brian flipped him the bird. "Eat shit, sucker. Oh wait—here's another one, just for you." He crossed both middle fingers into an X.
"Hashtag X Bird! Bahaha~" Matt laughed through a swollen lip, wheezing.
The whole room burst into laughter and cheers. Even a few of Simon's own buddies couldn't hold back their grins. Simon's face twisted. "Oh, you think this is funny, huh?" He tore his sleeve open, muscles flexing as he rolled his shoulders. "Let's see if you're still laughing when I knock the teeth outta your mouth."
Brian cracked his knuckles. "If that's what it takes to calm your ass, fine. Let's end this tonight."
"Hell yeah!" Dan shouted. "Beat his ass, Bry!"
The barracks erupted—half cheering for Brian, half for Simon. Soldiers formed a wide circle, the floorboards shaking beneath their boots.
Simon sneered, pacing inside the ring. "Hope you said your prayers." Simon raised his index finger, making sure everyone could see it. "Out there on the battlefield, there are no rules. You fight until one of you drops. That's the only respect I give."
Brian rolled up his sleeves, his voice calm but fierce. "So the thug code's off the table now, huh? Fine by me. Sounds fair enough."
And just like that—the moonlight vanished, swallowed by the fire in their eyes.
The two of them were built almost identically—same height 6'3, same weight 200 lbs, same with their stance—which made the fight feel clean, man to man. They raised their fists, shifting into a close-quarters stance—the kind of quick, brutal hand-to-hand combat every soldier was drilled in.
Their eyes locked. No words, no hesitation.
"Hussh!" Simon threw the first punch—a wide hook, fast and heavy. Brian caught the motion just in time, ducking to the side. He didn't counter right away. Instead, he drove his knee hard into Simon's back leg, making the man stumble and drop to one knee.
Simon grunted and swung his fist back into Brian's ribs. It landed with a solid thud, like being slammed by a football. Brian staggered back, one hand pressed to his side, forcing himself to breathe steadily.
"That's all you got, huh? Is this the best the captain can do?" Simon bellowed, pounding his chest, hyping himself up.
"Kick his ass, Brian! Don't let him get up!" Matt shouted over the roaring crowd of recruits. The air was thick with adrenaline—every shout, every thud echoing through the barracks.
"Damn it, I gotta take a leak," Dan groaned from the edge of the group, peeling away. He shuffled down the dim hall toward the restroom, mumbling to himself. Two big soldiers standing by the wall exchanged a look, whispering something low. Then, quietly, they followed him in. Back in the makeshift ring, Brian rolled his neck and rubbed his jaw, cracking his knuckles.
"Quit! If this keeps up, somebody's getting hurt bad," he muttered under his breath, setting his stance again. Simon stepped forward with his left foot and launched another punch with his right, the swing slicing the air inches from Brian's face. Brian parried it clean, twisting his body to drive a knee into Simon's gut, forcing him back a few steps.
"Son of a bitch!" Simon snarled, swinging wildly now.
Brian stomped down hard on Simon's foot, trapping him in place, then sent an uppercut crashing into his jaw. Simon's body snapped backward, and Brian slammed his arm down, pinning him to the floor. The whole room screamed; cheers, stomps, and whistles shook the walls. Brian's side was on fire with noise and victory. "Hit him, man! Get his ass!" The crowd roared so loud it shook the walls.