John kicked the door shut and threw three of the locks; there wasn't much need for more. And he didn't want the guy to feel trapped or anything.
"You bet," John said, stuffing his hands into his back pocket. "It's no big thing, really. What're you interested in, exactly? I figured on some throws and holds, things usin' you're opponent's strength against 'em." This mostly because there was no shooting range in Bellum, and there was no chance he'd fire a gun in an apartment unless he had a damn good reason. "If you've got anything in your apartment you could use as a weapon, I could teach you how to use that, too."
He glanced in the direction of his kitchen. Skillets were pretty useful as throwing weapons. And there were always knives. A French knife was useful useful in a fight; he couldn't count the number of times he'd gone after a guy with a knife.
"Cleared the area in the living room," he said, stepping toward the open space. "Just let me know where you want to start."