"What do you mean?" Nolan said, his tone clipped. "I actually don't have time for this."
Gary smiled as he lifted his sword and slid it back into his belt.
"Leave it to me," he said calmly. "I'll beat the hell out of you."
His smile widened.
"Right now, you rank E. Bend down, touch my feet, and beg for mercy."
"Oh, really?" Nolan replied flatly. "Sorry, but I can't do that—especially not for a fool."
The smile vanished.
"Gary, what did you just call me?" Gary snapped.
He reached into his coat, pulled out one of his gloves, and hurled it straight at Nolan's chest.
Thud.
Nolan flinched, then looked down. He picked the glove up and turned it over in his hand.
"What's this for?" Nolan asked. "A gift?"
"You're still mocking me?" Gary growled as he drew his sword.
"Hey—" someone in the crowd shouted. "You just accepted his deal!"
People began gathering, murmurs rising as more eyes turned toward them.
"You accepted his challenge."
"He's still a rookie."
