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Chen stands on one side, bringing both of his arms forward, hands clasped together. He inhales slowly and sharply, his chest expanding, and then releases the breath of air, his breath leaving his lungs. His heartbeat slows down, his mind goes into a more calm state, and his muscles become more relaxed. With this breathing exercise done, his right hand reaches behind his back, removing his black baton, whipping it out to its 2' 3" length, only 1' 8" actually being the extending length from the grip.

Holding it ready in front of him, he sits on his knees as his head bobs a little in place, his weapon shaking readily in front of him, left hand palm open and close to his chest, right side facing toward his opponent.

"You got this far, Chen. One more round to go before the big final."

He was currently in a blue silk Chinese shirt, wearing some black pants with thicker material which had their length stop halfway down the calves. On both feet, he wore kung fu shoes. The front of his shirt was tattered and still stained of old blood he took two fights ago. And the scar on the left side of his face showed that during that same period, he took a good cut across his cheek. But his wounds were clotted, and so he was ready to continue in fair condition. The other difference in his clothing was that the sleeves were gone, having been cut off between fights, exposing the build his arms possessed. They were becoming a nuisance to his fighting, so he decided to get rid of them instead of for style purposes.

And came he did, Chen rushing at his opponent in a full stride, keeping his stance as constant as he could on the way. His right arm moves in a circle in front of him, making it harder to see when and how he was going to strike whenever he does. For the time being, he was moving closer, his ideal position being about three feet from his opponent. Baton ready in hand, right side forward, he holds his momentum on his toes, head swaying left and right as he looks for his first area and moment to attack.

Looked like his opponent was tightening into a defense. He figured that would be the case when he came running at him with a baton out and ready to hurt. At his designated distance, Chen swings his baton in a downward angle at Sam's left hip, while strafing to the right. Since Sam was protecting his upper body, it left his lower body unprotected from a good lash of his weapon. When Chen made an attack, his attacks usually held a purpose. Striking Sam in the hip was a way of attacking the nerves that powered his left leg. In other words, the strike against this specific area would send a slight weakening to the leg itself, but if Sam was built as his figure showed, then it shouldn't be anything to worry about as of yet.

Chen's swing came from the circling motion he was making before to make it harder to know when and where he was going to strike. When it struck at Sam's left hip, his left arm reacted by swinging out to the left in an effort to block against it. By the time his arm would take the strike of the baton, Chen's weapon would be already flinging back, as this was just a motion of a flick. By the time his opponent will be lifting his foot off the ground, Chen would slide his right foot back partially, having his left follow simultaneously, the kick missing him entirely. He was three feet away, after all.

And then Chen leans his upper body forward, hopping back in, this time closing the distance to just two feet, left arm in guard just in case Sam brought either that left leg back or decided to try to follow up with some other attack. Because Sam's kick had his left side momentarily facing Chen, Chen had a direct path of his weapon to his opponent's lower back, which he swings at swiftly in that same flicking motion.

Catching the baton was not going to be that easy. Knowing its speed, it would take a more committed attack from Chen with the weapon if he ever wanted to get a grip on it. So when he uses his hand to block it while trying to grip it, consequently, the baton would escape the grip attempt. But as a retaliation, Chen's baton would flick back to hit at the top of Sam's knuckles, striking at the bone. Despite having good muscle, which was just as much as a target to his weapon, bone was more vulnerable and left much more pain than hitting someone in their conditioned muscles. If he truly knew the pains and harshness of batons, then he should recognize the pain they could cause when hitting the right places.

All while doing this, any movements Sam made were answered by a movement of Chen's feet. When he attempts to close the distance from two feet to one, Chen moves his feet back, returning it to two. Sam's kick would go for his right leg, but with his leg scooting back to line up more with the left leg in order to minimize the threat range of Sam's kick, the boot will just scrape the front of his knee then continue on. Chen's baton would then be in front of him once again, shaking in movement from left to right as his left hand, palm still open, positioned itself some inches behind his weapon, head bobbing once again as he awaits an opportunity to strike again, his eyes staring at Sam like a tiger.

Chen's opponent had more muscle than him. He had to be tactical instead of going in full swing. Otherwise, he could get punished severely. Samayou didn't seem to be making any following assaults for the moment, so Chen would be the one to take the initiative again.

This time, he moves to the left and forward, following a diagonal line toward Samayou's right, while swinging his baton in a horizontal swipe at Samayou's stomach. This way, he could still move without closing the distance. But the attack would only be a feint, stopping just halfway. This was to test Samayou's reactions.

The baton is twirled in his right hand, a sign of a smirk coming to his face to show some amusement. He lets the baton twirl, and twirl with his skillful fingers, until he strikes out at the blocking forearm. But he was not targeting muscle, but instead the elbow, the strike coming from Sama's right in that flicking motion.