On the other side of the arena, Art and Zyon were hunched over like two half-dead hobos.
Art grumbled, face practically kissing the dirt. "Damn that instructor's a demon. You think so too, right?"
He threw the question toward Zyon, hoping for some shared misery. But Zyon just gave a lazy shrug. "Wasn't that bad."
Art looked like he'd been slapped. "Not that bad? Brother, I was used as a broom. I've seen my life flash twice today. Brother you are strong but for normal people like me today was HELL."
Zyon side-eyed him, unimpressed. "You being a 'normal guy' is an insult to actual normal people. Not just because you're stronger than you pretend to be—but because of how annoying you are."
Art blinked. "Wait. Was that a compliment or an insult?"
Zyon didn't even flinch. "Up to you."
"I'll take it as an insult then." Art scoffed, brushing dust off his sleeves like he hadn't just been wrecked ten minutes ago.
