Sid had to rely on misdirection and his knowledge of the human element she was just relearning. As Oshan pressed her advantage, Sid faked a stumble, deliberately putting weight on his bad knee and crying out.
"Ugh! My knee! It's seizing up, Oshan! Unsportsmanlike conduct!"
Oshan's assault briefly faltered, a flicker of doubt crossing her face— the instinct to protect the injured overriding the instinct to win.
It was the opening Sid needed.
He didn't hit with power; he hit with precision. Using the momentum from his fake stagger, he spun his body, letting the movement disguise a quick, low feint toward her ribs. As Oshan dropped her guard fractionally to protect her center, Sid snapped his wrist out, utilizing a quick, open-handed strike— a shoto, that connected sharply and cleanly right beneath her chin.
The strike was minimal in force, but perfectly placed to disrupt her balance and momentarily jar her jaw.
