Upcoming Showdown

Kevin's gaze shifted to the side, catching a glimpse of the dance floor through the corner of his left eye. Among the swirling crowd, his attention was drawn to two individuals who stood out amidst the pulsing beats. One of them had fiery red hair, contrasting vividly against her emerald green eyes. Her hair was styled in a black bonnie-like fashion, with a striking red feather tucked to the side, its leather texture catching the light. Another feather, this one in a vibrant pink leather, adorned her hairstyle, adding a touch of whimsy. She wore a captivating ensemble, a red skirted outfit that left most of her skin covered, except for the tantalizing hint of her neckline and the smooth bareness of her arms and elbows. A delicate feather necklace encircled her neck, providing a soft and comfortable frame. As she danced, her movements were reminiscent of a burning flame, gracefully swirling and igniting the floor with her unique style.

Beside her was another figure, dressed in an outfit of similar design but in shades ranging from light blue to a deep, enticing blueberry hue. This individual appeared shorter in stature but exuded an air of confidence. In her hands, she held a sword that glistened like ice, hinting at her skill as a swordsman. With smooth footwork and precise movements, she weaved through the dance floor, her hips swaying in rhythm. A mischievous smirk graced her lips as their eyes briefly met, before they continued their captivating dance, their laughter merging with the crowd's joyful energy.

Kevin couldn't help but be impressed by their allure, his mouth slightly agape as he uttered under his breath, "Nice asses and tits." His seductive remark was muffled by the surrounding crowd, lost within the vibrant atmosphere. He turned his attention back to the bar, resting his hands on the table in front of him.

Junior, the club owner, had just finished his phone call and now seemed engrossed in texting, his focus on the business at hand. The bartender, in the midst of a habitual bottle-cleaning routine, paused for a moment, attentively awaiting Kevin's order.

"I'll take a nice Gin, with a double egg it," Kevin said, snapping his fingers near his head with a hint of sass. The sound of the snap echoed through the air, demanding attention. The bartender nodded, skillfully navigating through the bustling bar, sidestepping other bartenders with a slight slide step. There was a nervous laughter among them, almost resulting in collisions as they balanced numerous plates of drinks and food with varying weights. The serving trays were held high above their heads, showcasing their strength and dexterity. They moved swiftly, avoiding any spills or mishaps, ensuring the satisfaction of the paying customers in the crowded corridors.

"Hey, aren't you too young to drink, kid?" Junior asked, a mix of shock and amusement evident in his voice. Kevin scoffed, intentionally catching Junior's attention. He tapped his left hand on the smooth, caramel-like clean bar table, causing it to wiggle slightly, while his right hand remained hidden under the table, clutching a scroll.

"Aren't you too old to be alive?" Kevin retorted, his words laced with sarcasm. He met Junior's gaze, a smug smirk playing on his lips. Junior couldn't help but laugh in disbelief, wiping away a tear from his eye.

"Well, what's your name, kid?" Junior asked, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. He was willing to engage in a verbal spar, but his patience was wearing thin. It was his special day, and he didn't want anyone to annoy him and ruin the celebration.

"Oh, I go by a lot of names, Looney," Kevin replied, his gaze shifting to the ceiling before meeting Junior's eyes with a touch of pride. "But call me boss," he added, a mischievous smirk forming on his face.

Junior laughed, unable to contain himself, tears still glistening in his eyes. "Kid, the day I call you boss will be the day you choke on your own slap," Junior said, his voice trailing off as Kevin swiftly grabbed a broken beer glass and brought it close to him with a strong grip.

"I'll be like-" Junior's words were cut short as Kevin stabbed the broken glass into Junior's hand, puncturing the flesh and causing it to bleed. The shards of glass grazed against his bones, some breaking through the skin, revealing white slivers of exposed tissue. Junior screamed in pain.

"What was that?" Kevin asked, his tone firm and serious. He had his right hand near his left ear, ensuring he heard the words he wanted from Junior.

"I-I mean boss," Junior huffed and stuttered, the searing pain of the sharp glass edge burning through his hand.

"Good, good boy," Kevin said, patting Junior's back lightly. Junior grunted and groaned, his gaze fixed on the glass embedded in his hand. "Now, I want to know some information about this guy," Kevin demanded, pulling out the scroll with his right hand, revealing an image of a tall, bearded man with a muscular physique. Junior examined the image briefly before answering.

"I-I don't know," Junior blurted out.

"Excuse me?" Kevin's conflicting emotions surfaced, and he twisted the broken glass in Junior's hand, causing more damage and crushing his bones to dust. The sound of the crushing and crunching was akin to smashing chips into a grinder. It elicited a piercing scream from Junior, who whimpered in pain as the burning sensation of his own blood intensified.

Junior's henchmen abruptly stood up, leaving the ladies they were with, and retrieved their long-range weapons. "Hey!" they called out to Kevin in anger, their guns ready to fire, fingers hovering just above the triggers. The bartender's voice trailed off as he quickly took Kevin's order, placing the drink far away from the impending confrontation. He then joined the other bartenders, following their lead, running in silence, driven by fear away from the bar, prepared for a showdown, ready to throw down.

"I-I don't know, boss," Junior stammered, his voice quivering as he spoke to Kevin. Kevin maintained his grip on the broken glass, blood dripping from Junior's wounded hand. The tension in the room heightened as Junior's henchmen prepared to take down Kevin. A glimmer of amusement danced in Kevin's eyes as he surveyed the scene. "Nice people you have here," Kevin remarked, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words. "Are they with you?" he asked, his tone firm yet tinged with a touch of compassion.

"Listen, if you want to get out of here alive, I suggest you let me go!" Junior shouted, his voice filled with desperation. He rocked back and forth, the pain in his injured hand numbing his senses but still pulsating with a searing intensity. Disappointed, Kevin let out a sigh and withdrew the broken bottle from Junior's hand. Junior clutched his aching hand, relief flooding his features despite the lingering pain. His heart raced, and his surroundings blurred as he struggled to regain his composure.

Without warning, Kevin forcefully pushed Junior's head down onto the table, causing it to hit with a heavy thud. Junior sprawled out unconscious on the floor, the chair bouncing away from the force of his tall, limp body. "Your funeral, kid!" the goons growled in unison, their anger simmering at how their boss had been dealt with.

Kevin swiftly retrieved his concealed sword from its hidden sling, glaring at the goons with fierce determination. "Bring it," Kevin snarled, his voice filled with defiance.