[The wires strain, the whirling mechanism within Bansai's shamisen jamming as they're met with resistance far great than a typical man's. He casts a disaffected glance to the neck of his instrument to check the damage. His instrument still stands in tact (a relief, really. He'd have a hell of a time replacing it on this planet,) but the men have easily been locked into a stalemate.

The musician can't help but smile as he stands up. He steadies the instrument in his grasp, just in case the other man attempted to jerk or pull him forward.]

Ah, then I daresay I have a different solution. How about we call it quits after the results of this fight? It would be a shame to force this place's song to end mid-crescendo.

[He couldn't care less if it stopped after this one. He just wanted to be assured that he didn't lose the money he had bet.]