Habits breed confidence, confidence leads to self-improvement. Overconfidence leads to failure, as Nami was finding out the hard way. Calling some mexican drug dealer rude names was a great way to provoke him. And the training she had gained did improve her ability to duck a punch and throw one of her own. But then the punch across the face knocked her down, and then came the kicks the gut. One, two three, four. He was saying the most rude things to her, saying what he was going to do to her, while she coughed and sputtered and tried to stop him. Disappointing.

Some facts about a tire iron. The angle of the tool is just perfect to swing it up between the legs of a bad man, and would catch him perfectly in the testicles. That isn't suprising. What is suprising, is the angle also allows you to lift a man up by that same appendage.

Which was truly unfortunate for mr. drugs, as the unexpected assault stunned him enough for Nami to get up. Grabbing a trash can lid, she smashed it across the face of the bastard over and over again, painting the dirty tin red. Regina pulled the man's neck towards her and fed on him, savoring the pain and endorphins, the bitter taste of fear and lust, overlaid with a touch of some downer drug. A small price to pay.

Regina's recimations of Nami were not as severe as they had been when the arrived here. She indeed was a quick learner. Though they would need to branch out soon. Regina would also need to improver her own skill. The initial strike had been a touch off. More practice is what she needed. More practice.