Chapter 8 - The Lesson
Cole didn't move away. He didn't drop his level to match the takedown.
Instead, as Derek drove his shoulder forward into Cole’s midsection, Cole simply pivoted on his right heel, utilizing centrifugal force and aikido-style redirection to feed Derek’s own momentum past him.
Whoosh.
Derek stumbled forward, his hands grasping empty air as he crashed heavily onto his hands and knees right in the center of the mat.
Before Derek could even look up, Cole was already behind him.
It wasn't a brutal slam this time. It was clinical, educational humiliation.
Cole slid his left arm under Derek’s chin, locking in a textbook rear-naked choke with zero wasted motion. Simultaneously, his right hand hooked behind Derek’s knee, lifting his base so Derek had no leverage to defend.
Derek tried to grab Cole’s wrists, but Cole’s grip was like hydraulic steel.
The pressure mounted instantly. Not with blind rage, but with cold, mathematical precision.
Derek’s face turned bright red. He opened his mouth, trying to gasp for air, but the forearm across his carotid arteries shut off his oxygen supply completely.
He began to panic. He tried to flail backward, but Cole’s weight kept him pinned effortlessly to the floor.
Tap.
Derek slapped the mat once. Weakly.
Cole didn't let go immediately. He held the choke for three seconds—giving Derek the exact same taste of his own medicine he had given me weeks ago at Apex.
Tap, tap, tap! Derek pounded the mat frantically with both hands, his legs kicking out in desperation.
On the count of three, Cole released his grip and casually rolled backward, standing up and dusting off his knees.
Derek collapsed forward onto his stomach, coughing violently, gasping for air as drool and sweat dripped onto the pristine wooden floor. He looked like he had just run a marathon through a desert.
Marcus Vance stopped recording with his phone, his jaw hanging open in utter disbelief. The two enforcers who had come with them slowly backed toward the exit door, realizing their fearless leader had just been dismantled in under twenty seconds.
"You... you cheated..." Derek wheezed from the floor, clutching his throat.
Cole looked down at him, his expression calm, disappointed, and completely unimpressed.
"That wasn't cheating, Derek," Cole said softly. "That was education. In the real world, bullying people smaller than you doesn't make you a martial artist. It just makes you a target."
Master Lee stepped forward, looking down at Derek with cold disapproval.
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"You bring shame to your belt and your dojo," Master Lee said firmly. "Get off my mats. And if you ever step foot inside this facility again, I won't send a Navy SEAL. I’ll handle you myself."
Marcus Vance quickly bent down, grabbed Derek by the arm, and hauled the gasping, humiliated black belt toward the door without uttering another single word.
