Xavier was thin to begin with, so I swung him in my hands like a ball, spinning him around in circles.
Feeling unsatisfied, I treated him like a punching bag, delivering punch after punch. I made sure to repay him for every wrong he had done to me, owed me, and for hurting Ryan. With utmost seriousness and precision, I struck back with every ounce of determination.
As the police arrived, they saw the three of us lying on the ground.
Ryan laughed so hard and clapped his hands in applause.
Xavier was lying on the ground, bleeding from his mouth and nose, like a wilted cucumber, and one of his shoes had fallen off.
Seeing the police coming, he stretched out his hand tremblingly and felt wronged, saying, "Help..."
I was exhausted, so I lay on the ground to rest for a while.
Beating someone was much more satisfying than beating a sandbag!
No wonder our coach always stopped us from fighting others. I truly loved the sensation and the flexibility!
Excessive self-defense required accountability. After all, Xavier couldn't even stand up.
Surprisingly, he did not hold me responsible or seek retribution for my actions.
Therefore, I didn't say much.
We both sides had a truce and lived in peace for a year.