No anger.
No wild swings.
Just distance.
Timing.
Balance.
Every time he tried to use his strength, I redirected it.
Every time he rushed, I made him chase me.
Thirty seconds became one minute.
One minute became two.
Derek’s breathing changed.
The crowd noticed.
His confidence disappeared first.
Then his smile.
At three minutes, he was breathing heavily.
At four, sweat was pouring from his face.
I was hurting.
My knee felt like someone had driven a nail through it.
But I was still standing.
The timer showed:
4:32
Derek looked at Claire.
Then at me.
“You military?”
I didn’t answer.
He charged.
He threw everything he had.
I slipped the first punch.
Blocked the second.
And when he tried to tackle me, I used his momentum against him and put him on the mat.
The crowd exploded.
I stepped back immediately.
I didn’t celebrate.
I didn’t need to.
The timer kept running.
4:51
Derek pushed himself up.
His face had changed.
He wasn’t looking at a boring HVAC salesman anymore.
He was looking at a man he couldn’t understand.
4:58
4:59
5:00
The buzzer sounded.
Nobody moved.
Then I heard Claire whisper:
“Oh my God.”
I looked at Derek.
“You owe me half the house.”
