The fire quickly receded as though responding to the comment, and it again revealed that there were no burns whatsoever. Even the leather-burning scent was missing.
"Goddamnit," Mitch hissed in pain and frustration as he felt his hair being almost ripped from his head. 'Fuck this. New plan!' Instead of answering Sal's question, Mitch let go of Sal's wrist and brought up his hand, smashing the heel of his palm into the asexual's unprotected face in hopes of breaking his nose.
In case that didn't make Sal let go, the young fighter decided to borrow the Niflheimer's method and slammed a kick into Sal's gut. 'Like that, you bastard?!?!'