Making Money From A Game

Drake Reaching into his back pocket, Drake pulled out a small metal cylinder - a telescoping baton that he often used in his martial arts training. With a flick of his wrist, the baton extended to its full length, and he gripped it tightly, his knuckles turning white.

Andrew eyed the baton warily, knowing that Drake's proficiency in martial arts could pose a serious threat. But he remained calm, his posture relaxed and his hands still clasped behind his back.

"This is becoming more interesting, I thought I wouldn't see some actions" Andrew smiled as he stared at the stick at Drake's hands.

"If you think that little stick is going to stop me, you're sorely mistaken," Andrew said, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Suddenly, Drake launched himself forward, the baton swinging in a vicious arc towards Andrew's head. "Take this!" Drake yelled.

But Andrew was ready, he already stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike. Then, with lightning-fast reflexes, he reached out and grabbed
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