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: Chapter one
the unexpected plan

Blood poured down his face; he gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to roar out loud. He never knew why she always brought out the worst in him—not the gentlemen: the beast, the animal. He wiped the blood from his forehead as if it were nothing but sweat.

“Come on is that all you’ve got?" she goaded him; her dark green eyes alight with pleasure. He grinned slightly; he knew she loved the thrill of the fight. It was like a certain type of food, a delicacy she would crave for nearly every night but would be denied.

However, this fight hadn't been denied. She swung her sword around her hand; his smile grew even wider then. His sword had skidded away when she'd last attacked, leaving him unarmed. It probably seemed very silly to smile, but his plan was following through perfectly. He began to circle her. It seemed extremely stupid, and he had no weapons, while she held a bloody sword in her hands.

"Afterwards, perhaps you'll go to the hospital. It would be awful to see that wound obscure
your line of vision,” said Billie.
He snorted; he couldn't help it. The only reason she was talking like that was because it was mandatory to talk to your opponent with respect, even if you were
about to beat them to a pulp. But once again he smiled; this finally broke through her hard facade.

“Stop smiling! There's nothing funny going on, Jesse—you’re defenceless, and I am the one with the bleedin' sword," she blurted out.

Jesse shook his head so that his fair hair moved too, finally falling into his eyes once he'd finished. He brushed it away impatiently. "You don't always need a sword. There are other weapons, Bills."

She raised an eyebrow, and he sighed.

"Billie," he said impatiently, correcting himself. He knew it wasn't very formal of him, but he was growing tired of the game. It seemed like Billie was too, because all of a sudden she flung her sword up, ready to attack.

In an instant, he threw all his weight into his side and barged her. There was a loud crash, a flash of sliver and a dull, painful thud.

Jesse found himself sprawled on the floor next to Billie. Both of them were panting heavily. A tall, grave-looking man with a wild beard and light sea eyes hovered over them, holding a clip board and stopwatch in his hand. He peered at the stopwatch. "Well done, Sullivan, massive improvement. Billie, better luck next time—remember Jesse isn't a little boy anymore; he's growing up." Then he moved on to the next pair.
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