As if taking those words for the whistle, Liz leaped forward, machete in hand.
'At least it isn't the kind that uses up fuel-' Roka's thought was interrupted as the swing of the machete she had moved to dodge turned out to be a feint. Liz's goal was a left punch to the liver. Roka's eyes barely allowed her to react. Both of her hands moved to take hold of Liz's wrist. The latter noticed that, pulled back, and spun to throw a horizontal slash which caused Roka to lower herself into a half split, letting the sharp blade cut the air above her while her legs moved to unleash a kick to Liz's chin, blocked by the latter as she raised her shoulder blade.