If there's one thing slowing Serrano down, it's his own cockiness. He halts the assault just to taunt, chin tilted high, smirk spread wide.
"Come on! You're a boxer, aren't you? Send me a…"
Dsh!
A jab slices in, cutting his words mid-sentence. Serrano blinks, stunned for half a beat.
Junpei seizes the chance to slide out of range, reclaiming the center of the ring. He plants his lead foot, his flicker jabs spilling out, sharp and unrelenting.
One snaps against Serrano's temple. Another stings his cheekbone. The third is blocked, but Serrano's grin wavers, even just for an instant.
"What's with these love taps? You mocking me?" Serrano snarls.
But…
Dsh! Dsh!
Two more jabs pierce his right cheek, quick and precise, forcing his hands up. But even his guard is crude, no tight shell, no polished cover.
He looks more like a brawler throwing up his arms in impatience, catching some shots, but letting others slip clean through to his face.
