Chapter 28

Oh, they exchanged rings when they got married, where are the wedding rings?

"Where's the wedding ring?"

"I put it in the drawer. Took it off at home, didn't want to lose it while washing my hands."

William's elbow found its place as he playfully squeezed Brian's hand back and forth.

Whether it was arm wrestling or just an excuse to touch hands, he got what he wanted. Victory.

Brian, looking all calm and confident, was in his early thirties and full of fighting spirit. Since arm wrestling was the choice, he was up against a soldier who bragged about being unbeatable in strength. Well, let's see if he could win.

"Both hands, I'll let you use both," said William.

William sat on the floor, legs spread, looking mighty and invincible, filled with boundless joy and a sense of superiority.

His fists could shatter ten large jars, his arms could lift 600 pounds, and his hands could snap an enemy's neck.

Brian's slender arms, even using both, could be defeated in a second.

Brian didn't hold back. No matter how he won, if he could beat William, it was a win.

All is fair in love and war, and anything goes to win.

Even making funny faces or tickling.

Of course, he wouldn't stoop so low as to tickle, he just used both hands.

Both his hands beautifully enveloped William's.

They were close, their eyes locked, both eager and excited, sparks flying.

One, two, three.

Begin!

William was thrilled. To bond with a man, you gotta do it the manly way. Holding hands isn't just for fortune-telling or romance, it's for arm wrestling too.

His joy didn't last three seconds. William didn't exert much force, but as soon as they started, his muscles bulged. His other hand was even reaching for a cigarette.

Brian gave it his all, gritting his teeth and straining to the right. His arm muscles bulged too, and they were at a stalemate, arms shaking, and then - snap.

Oh yeah!

Brian forced William's wrist down onto the coffee table.

Brian let out a silent cheer in his heart, releasing William's hand which was now red from the grip. He shook it to restore circulation, unable to hide the smile on his face.

William was stunned, then burst into laughter.

"Wow, you're strong. I wasn't really trying, let's go again."

A real man, not some delicate damsel, must be strong and daring, unafraid to face the impossible. The same hand that holds a pen can wield a gun, and can overpower a soldier's arm. Can defeat all enemies.

Only such a man, standing tall and fearless, can do anything without worry, exuding strength and passion.

William had underestimated Brian. After their encounter, he realized that Brian was just as formidable.

He couldn't treat him like a delicate flower. A real man.

Brian didn't say much, ready to go again.

Both hands gripping William's one, this time William wasn't taking any chances. His free hand gripped the edge of the coffee table.

Begin!

Arms straining, wrists straining, muscles bulging, including his biceps. His whole body was channeling strength.

Brian felt his right hand being squeezed so hard it was numb. His fingers felt fused together. He was so strong, gritting his teeth until his face turned red, his arm in a deadlock, swaying left and right.

Bang!

He forced William's hand down again, slamming it onto the coffee table.

William's eyes were full of admiration. He wouldn't underestimate Brian anymore. The seemingly thin and gloomy young man had proven to be incredibly strong.

"You're stronger than most of my army buddies. Not many can beat me," William said.

Brian glanced at his right hand; his knuckles were white, and his hand looked almost like a chicken claw from the squeezing. He shook it to regain feeling.

"Of course, using both hands gives me more strength."

"Let's try with just one hand."

Brian was elated from his victory. One hand it is. He had won twice; losing once wouldn't be a big deal.

They clasped hands, flexing their fingers.

William looked at him.

"Ready?"

Brian nodded.

The third round began.