Joe Justice and Harry Jam stand shoulder to shoulder in their gym, gloves tight over knuckles, the red heavy bags looming behind them like silent witnesses. One adjusts his grip while the other flexes, tattoos peeking from beneath the sleeves, muscles straining against the leather. They pose, back to back, then side by side, gloves raised, fists ready, the air thick with the weight of their bodies and the promise of what comes next.
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