Superkick

You aim your superkick at the side of Fen's face, but you accidentally squash her hand against her cheek. Whatever damage the headshot did, the powerful strike directly to her fingers did much more. She shrieks & stumbles away, clutching her wound.

Ah ha! She can't punch with a broken hand.

In her defensive posture she doesn't see you approach her side & apply a side wrist lock. Fen first response, after a stifled yell, is to simply hurl you away, which see cannot do when the pain flairs in her hand. Another twist bends her over at the waist.

"Now now, what should I do with you?"

"Die, runt!"

"No, not that. How about..." Rolling the wrist over makes Fen bare her teeth & hiss.

"SHHHHH! HRRRRRM!"

It's rather empowering, having a bodybuilder in your control with such a simple hold. Watching the massive muscles pulse & flex at your command. However, submission isn't an option, so you need to do something more... impactful.

Fen had the same idea. She braced herself against the pain & pulled you into her other arm's clothesline. It clubs into your chest, breaking your hold & shoving you back. You're ready to lock up again but your foe hasn't recovered fully. She's on 1 knee, holding her sore hand by the wrist & flexing the digits gingerly.

She's distracted, hit it again.

You approach with a hop & curb stomp straight down on the palm. The thug's shriek must reach the 10th row at least. Further back than that are sympathetic winces for her. Down on her belly, arm outstretched, eye bulging & mouth gaping. She dodges your next stomp, clumsily, tripping up to her feet.

"You're fucking dead!"

Advantage, John.