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"If you wanna, I could take the lead on this too... Keep you held down against my butt all night~ I got straps, My thighs, Some rope... Just imagine it, falling asleep huffing my butt~"

Falco slammed his fists together. “Heavy Water!” Moisture was gathered from the air and formed two liquid spheres, immersing his hands. Noah had seen him use this technique in earlier matches. Despite being made of water, the two spheres were hard as rock, and their added weight made his punches stronger, but that wasn’t all. Along with strong offense, the orbs provided good defense, acting as both shields and catcher’s mitts for enemy attacks. It was a simple technique, but quite potent.

He gave the man a hard poke in the chest while smoke wafted from the cigarette between his fingers, then leaned in with bloodlust radiating from every word hissed with his icy voice. “Notice that I haven’t asked your name yet, even though I gave you mine? It’s because you don’t have a name to me. To me, you’re just ‘Bitch’, the sniveling little Bitch who decided to come in here and ruin my evening, talking awfully big game for someone in skull-fucking range. That’s what’ll be engraved on your tombstone: ‘Here lies Bitch. Cause of death: got skull-fucked until his brains leaked out of his ears.’ Shit, I’ll carve the engraving myself. Now I suggest you get the fuck out before I use your eye sockets like a whore’s ass!”