How Morbid

Back in the basement, The Fox and Wuming were still in the middle of their fight. It had already been going on for minutes. Wuming honestly already lost track of time. All he knew was that all his muscles were aching and all he wanted to do was drop down and rest.

"Damn," he said loudly and wrung out his arm again. "If you seriously injure this hand, I'm going to pull your fingernails one by one and wait for them to grow out just so I could pull them out again. 

"Does it hurt?" The Fox was already out of breath and there was a dried drop of blood from the corner of his lip. Nonetheless, he was grinning. His face was already bruised up and they were both dirty and sweaty. 

Wuming rolled his shoulders. The only injury he was worried about was his arm. Apart from that, he didn't feel any major pain. "You know you can't beat me, right?"

"I thought I did." Even The Fox felt the words like blades on his tongue. There was no point in not admitting that.