Your Ten Rings Are Nice. They’re Mine Now

Los Angeles. Ten Rings Gang Base. Training Room. Razor Fist, a burly man whose right arm was a retractable blade, stood at the entrance to the training room, debating whether he should go in and report to Wenwu. Although Wenwu was only practicing his martial arts now and wasn't using the Ten Rings on his arms. There was a rule within the Ten Rings Gang: absolutely no one was allowed to disturb him while he was training. Otherwise, they could easily get beaten to death.