In a dim underground alley, a variety of individuals were immersed in different activities: buying, selling, gambling, and occasional squabbles.
Many of them concealed their identities with masks and hoods, moving systematically, hinting at illicit gatherings or activities.
Within this routine, normalcy was shattered by the piercing cries and heavy breaths of a slightly plump teenage boy, running with remarkable agility and evading obstacles with finesse which was surprising for someone with such body features.
Hot on his heels were burly men wielding batons and pipes, determination etched on their faces, hinting they weren't planning a peaceful chat.
The chase caused minor collisions and complaints from bystanders, who, despite their frustration, hesitated to challenge these rugged men.
Finally, the boy's exertion caught up to him, and he crumpled to the ground, gasping.
His pursuers closed in, forming a sinister circle around the fallen boy, their faces contorted in a wicked glee that mirrored a pack of predators closing in on their prey.
From the midst of this ominous gathering, a figure emerged, seemingly the ringleader of this malevolent crew. He strode forward confidently, closing the distance between himself and the helpless boy sprawled on the ground.
His grip on the baton was adept, showing his familiarity with this sort of weapon, With every swing of the baton, his mean grin got even scarier.
"Hey there, chump" the leader of the group, taunted with a wicked grin.
"Decisions, decisions! So where do I start now, Should I kick off with your legs? Or maybe your dainty little hands? Nah, let's ramp up the excitement a notch—how 'bout we dive into the deep end? It would be a lot more unforgettable if it's your balls right?" The man asked with mischief embedded in his tone.
The boy on the floor trembled when he heard the threat and saw the mischievous grin on the man's face but before he could utter pleadings someone suddenly jumped in between him and his attacker.
It was a teenage boy who looked to be around the same age as him.
His black hair gleaned brightly complimenting his well-sculptured handsome face, bright emerald eyes, and tall figure, his smooth skin gave him the look of a handsome softie which were commonly raised in the main part of the city.
"Stare!" The once hopeless boy exclaimed, his gaze locked onto the back of the sudden intruder. His blue eyes were now infused with a sliver of hope.
"Who the f*ck are you supposed to be." The boss growled, apparently repulsed by the sudden intrusion.
The intruder, Stare, didn't appear bothered by the tough talk or angry face. Instead, he answered confidently:
"I'm friends with the guy whose balls you plan on smashing."
"Aight…listen, despite how I would love to stay and chat, I'm currently very limited in time, so is he, and I know you're eager to smash balls and bones alike. I won't really mind you smashing a few bones of this nut-head friend of mine but unfortunately, I've got to take him back with me with all his…(Stare paused and stared at the slightly chubby lying helplessly on the floor)…or at least most of his bones unscathed, so without wasting either of our time, can you just release him this one time and we settle this amicably."
The boss stared at the teen boy fearlessly standing in front of him for a while before bursting into loud mocking laughter, after a while his henchmen behind also joined in too.
"Settle amiably?...what part of-"
Bang!
Before the boss could complete his sentence, Stare had already covered the little distance between the both of them and landed a deafening blow on his face pushing him a couple of steps back.
The thugs standing behind all stared in shock as their leader staggered back from a punch delivered by a soft gullible-looking kid.
Stare didn't mind the gazes of shock and rather shrugged his shoulders casually.
"I already mentioned, time's a precious commodity for me. Soooo... Are we still throwing down, or are we gonna call it a day?"
A surge of anger turned the boss's face a fiery shade of red. He winced as he wiped away the blood that traced a path from his nose, his expression a mixture of pain and rage.
Casting a menacing gaze upon the gang members behind him.
"What are you all still standing there gaping at him like that for? Break his bones already!" He roared in anger.
Without delay, the thugs swiftly shed their bewildered expressions, replacing them with steely resolve. They closed in on Stare, brandishing batons and pipes with an air of hostile determination, ready to confront him head-on.
The first two to get close to him, immediately swung their batons at his head attempting to knock him off with a single blow but unfortunately, their target's agility was in no way normal especially for a common teenager, as the boy still found a way to quickly escape both their attacks.
Seizing the split-second of astonishment to his favor, Stare sprang into action. With a lightning-fast move, he zeroed in on the carotid artery on the side of one thug's neck, delivering a precise strike that instantly incapacitated him. Swift as a shadow, he pivoted, slamming his leg against the second thug's right kneecap, destabilizing him. Without breaking his momentum, Stare's leg soared upwards like a coiled spring, connecting solidly with the thug's chin which sent him crashing to the floor.
Without hesitation, the remaining thugs closed in, forming a tight circle around the enigmatic figure before them.
Initially dismissing him as nothing more than a bothersome insect, easily dealt with by a mere flick of their fingers, they found themselves taken aback. Nobody had anticipated that this seemingly unassuming "insect" would swiftly neutralize two adversaries three times his size in a mere couple of minutes.
Stare, however, remained remarkably composed even in the face of the encroaching threats, sporting an air of casual indifference.
In a swift sequence, one of the men lunged, aiming to pin him down, while another swung his pipe towards Stare's head for a decisive blow.
Yet, Stare's agility proved formidable. He adeptly evaded the attempted hold, swiftly ducked, and elegantly sidestepped to evade the incoming pipe.
The pipe, in an unfortunate twist, met the face of the colleague meant to subdue Stare, resulting in a resounding crack and an immediate nose break.
Amidst the chaos, another thug charged in to aid his companions, only to be met with Stare's rapid approach. In a flash, Stare closed the distance and, through an uncanny maneuver, jabbed his finger into the thug's eye, followed by a strategic hold on his wrist and elbow. With a twist, there was an unsettling snap, followed by the thug's anguished wails as he clutched his mangled hand before slipping into unconsciousness.
Meanwhile, Stare seized the abandoned baton, just as the earlier thug who had unintentionally injured his ally made another move. As before, Stare deftly sidestepped the incoming strike, then seized the opportunity to deliver a powerful blow with the baton to his attacker's exposed teeth, followed by a swift thrust into the thug's belly. The result was a painful tumble, as the man crumbled and writhed in agony.
Glancing briefly at the man who was now painfully writhing on the ground, spitting blood, Stare let out a resigned sigh before pivoting to address the other thugs.
In a shocking turn of events, the only sounds that permeated the air were the cries of the incapacitated and the unconscious strewn across the floor. No one else was in sight.
Stare's gaze shifted to the once-proud boss, now quivering in fear. The man was on one knee, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender, starkly illustrating his defeat.
Of course, the boss wasn't as stupid as to drag on the 'misunderstanding' due to his ego. Aside from the fact that the boy was unusually stronger than he looked and had easily wiped off his thugs, there was also a huge chance that he could be related to a high government official or worse a member of those powerful families. He had once heard that children from those powerful families were usually put under intensive combat training even from the early age of five.
So for a small-time thug like him, offending a big powerhouse family could simply be redefined as a sure painful death.
The boss remained on one knee, hands raised in a gesture of surrender, while a sheepish yet apologetic smile crept onto his rugged face.
"Heh, looks like all this chaos could've been avoided, huh? Maybe I had one too many drinks messing with my head... I mean, seriously, why resort to violence and smashing balls over a 'simple misunderstanding' when we could just settle it amiably, it's only an Arcana battle card after all."
Stare, who since had a satisfied expression, seeing the man didn't intend to continue the brawl suddenly had an odd expression on his face.
"Wait!…you mean all of this was because of a battle card…a f*cking battle card? Doush!"