John leant over, grabbing the youth's hair with a violent tug to force their eyes to meet. He locked his gaze onto the black pupils of his powerless opponent in a threatening way.
"You listen up, you son of a btch," John hissed, his voice vibrating with a cold, lethal tone. "No matter what you do, I'll crush it! No matter what you try, I'll win!
You have no future fighting against me. You will fail miserably if you keep harassing my people and me. It's either you stop right now and retreat, or it's a death feud between the two of us. Only one of us will survive this, and that will be me!"
The youngster blinked as if he had heard the most absurd thing ever, before breaking out in a pathetic laugh.
"You and I have been at war since before you were even born, Mr Mirage!" Mark's voice rasped through the dying boy's throat, distorted by the death approaching. "I will never make peace with you. Not with any of you. Never!"
