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Logan kept cursing, "Fucking cheap-ass bastard! Spearing me through a table like some coward! Face me like a fuckin\' man!"

"Ye call that fightin\', ye gobshite?! Ye wouldn\'t last a second if ye weren\'t pissed outta yer head! Come at me, I\'ll feckin\' end ye!" Damon roared, still struggling against the arms holding him back, his rage uncontained as he hurled more Irish curses at Logan.

Brian, still struggling to keep his brother back, shouted, "Logan, chill the fuck out! You\'re gonna get us all thrown out!"

The Philly guy, still holding Damon, muttered, "Jesus Christ, what the fuck did I just walk into…"

.

.

.

.

Damon was the kind of guy who kept his cool, almost always.

But there were two things that would set him off like nothing else: insulting his mother, or mentioning his bastard of a father.

Those were the triggers that brought out the real him.

Normally, he had adapted so well to the American accent that you wouldn\'t even think he was Irish when he spoke.

But when he was truly angry, all of that control went out the window.

The Irishman inside him came roaring out in full force, thick accent and all.

As for where he learned those vicious curses? Where else than the source of his anger, his father, Taro Saito.

A man who had shown him the kind of rage Damon swore he\'d never inherit, and yet, in moments like these, it surfaced.

It wasn\'t about control anymore.

The real Damon, the one who carried years of pent-up resentment and fury, had taken over.

.

.

.

.

Damon\'s face was twisted with pure rage now.

He was beyond caring about the consequences.

He glared at Logan with eyes full of venom and shouted, "Ye fucking gobshite! I swear on me ma\'s grave, I\'ll bash yer head into the feckin\' ground and piss on what\'s left of it!"

Logan kept pushing, egging Damon on with more insults, but Damon was done holding back. "Ye think I won\'t do it, ye bastard? I\'ll put yer face through the floor so hard ye\'ll wish ye\'d never been born!"

As he fought against the hands that were pulling him away, his words were raw and very serious.

Every inch of him was ready to act on those threats if Logan dared to get any closer.

Hearing the shouting and chaos from inside, the fighters who had been outside under the gazebo rushed in, curiosity and alarm on their faces.

The ones who had been sleeping bolted out of their rooms, drawn by the sounds of two maniacs screaming at each other.

They arrived just in time to see Damon and Logan still hurling insults, Damon barely being restrained as he tried to break free. Both men were on the verge of exploding again.

"Get him the fuck out of here!" someone shouted, and a few fighters grabbed Damon, dragging him into a separate room before things could escalate any further.

As the door shut behind him, Damon finally stopped yelling, his breathing heavy and eyes still raging with anger.

The room was quiet.

The fighters around him gave him space, knowing the last thing they needed was for him to snap again.

The fighters left Damon in the room, closing the door behind him.

As they stood outside, they exchanged confused glances.

"What the hell did they say to make him snap like that?" one of them muttered, shaking his head.

The others shrugged, equally unsure, their minds still trying to piece together what had triggered Damon\'s explosive reaction.

With nothing else to go on, they made their way back to the living room, where the drama had started, hoping to get some answers from the brothers or anyone who had seen what went down.

As the fighters arrived back in the living room, they walked straight into another argument already in full swing.

Logan, still riled up from the earlier altercation with Damon, was shouting at one of the guys who had come in to check on the commotion.

"You think you\'re some kinda tough guy, huh? Just \' you pulled him off me?" Logan spat, his face red and voice slurred from the alcohol.

The other fighter, a tall guy from Philly, wasn\'t having it. "Bro, you were gettin\' your ass handed to you! I didn\'t pull him off for your sake, trust me," he said, stepping closer, his voice calm but full of irritation.

Brian, Logan\'s older brother, was trying to play peacemaker but wasn\'t doing a great job. "Come on, Logan, just drop it, man. You\'re drunk, and you\'re talking out of your ass."

Logan wasn\'t backing down. "Fuck that! This guy thinks he\'s better than me, too? You wanna see what happens when you mess with me?"

The Philly guy scoffed. "Man, you don\'t want this. Just sit your drunk ass down before you embarrass yourself more than you already have."

Logan stepped closer, fists clenched, ready to escalate things again. "Oh, you think I\'m scared? You think I\'m fuckin\' scared of you?"

The tension in the room skyrocketed as more fighters stepped in, trying to stop Logan from making things worse.

The whole room felt like it was seconds away from exploding again.

Logan, still seething with anger, spat out his words with venom. "The whole Whittier team is a bunch of pussies!"

That comment made the room go silent for a split second, and then everything almost erupted again.

One of Damon\'s teammates stepped forward, glaring at Logan. "You talkin\' shit now? You didn\'t have much to say when Damon was pounding your face in."

Logan scoffed, "That was a cheap shot, and you know it! Come at me head-on, and see what happens."

Another fighter from Team Whittier clenched his fists, stepping closer. "Bro, keep runnin\' your mouth, and you\'re gonna wish you hadn\'t. You\'re drunk and actin\' tough, but you\'ll get folded real quick if you keep this up."

Brian, trying to calm the situation, grabbed Logan\'s arm. "Logan, man, just shut the fuck up already. You\'re digging a deeper hole."

Logan yanked his arm away from Brian and sneered. "Nah, I don\'t need to listen to you either. Fuck Whittier\'s team and anyone who thinks they can come at me!"