Flying Beef Stew of the Century

Then—

The other dude slammed my bowl across the table.

Wow, nice! We were the center of attention now. A waste of good food, but I'm satisfied to find out that they were morons.

200 Solus, it might be a proper price and an amount of money where one could just buy a bowl once again. But knowing that I risked my life to get the chance to order one, there was no reason for letting these clowns go comfortably after this kind of tomfoolery.

Thankfully enough, my white shirt and tie wasn't tainted by a single drop. Some did fall onto my unbuttoned sweat-jacket though, but that could be washed off.

They may have looked professional, but they were so easy to agitate, similar to pretentious little children that rarely went outside.

I merely stood up and grasped my spear. They were not as tall as I thought. "Heh, cheeky bastards."

They just needed some introductions around here.

And I'm happy to be the tour guide.

In quick fell swoop, my foot acted on its own by lunging onto that metal scrap that squandered my treat, and then dragging his shoulder down—letting him kiss the floor.

"Blurgh!"

"Lorenzo!"

"I thought an empty can is the loudest, yet your face is denser than a rock. It really hurt my leg though, I must say."

"You're going down!"

That Giovanni took out something within his overcoat. At first, I wanted to see what he was up to.

Until I noticed the body of a firearm.

Now that was just uncalled for. My foot was still on top of this Lorenzo guy. Sure, I could hit a gun off any amateur gunman, but using a spear within my favourite dining place would leave a bad taste in my mouth.

So? I just simply push-kicked his face before he could do anything more.

"Geh!"

The hunk of steel clanged as it met the wooden floor. The sound and the handgun's whereabouts was deafened by the crowd's reaction.

Then another kick flew, dragging him across the floor. Many people within the crowd moved away to give some space for the two of us.

"Urgh!"

And a stomp.

Another kick.

On his neck.

Abdomen.

His wacky camera eyes.

As I trashed Giovanni, Lorenzo stood up and hurled a punch.

A spark of blue electrical current enveloped itself across his entire arm, stretching as he rapidly approached.

"Die you bastard!"

I casually leant back to graze the incoming attack while I hurled a dandy kick to his groin. The spark charred a teensy bit of my jacket, but I broke his nuts.

It was surprising though! All of their bodies consisted of hard protection except for their balls!

"Man, now I'm starting to think that both of you haven't fought with a person before. I can hold a martial art lesson right now for free if you want!"

"D-don't get to cheeky now—"

"Chuu-chuu! The kettle is calling the pot black!"

The sudden introduction of the firearm was forgotten altogether as I alternated between those two I kicked to a pulp.

My shins and soles hurt quite badly, but the adrenaline hid the pain away from my consciousness.

Both Lorenzo and Giovanni started to retaliate less and less. If they could anyway, their inside organs must've been severely damaged. It brought me to stop my blows.

Just as I caught some breath, one person from the crowd charged in, and shoved his heel into Lorenzo on the stomach. He was anybody but a normal looking fellow with short black hair and an annoying to-look-at face.

"Heh, how dare they mess with my fellow 'Hunters'," scoffed the guy before sending another kick. "What a joke."

He then created a distance, as he shifted his gaze to my face with a stupid smirk that screamed 'I'm on your side!' after having fun seeing these two metal heads approaching me to make troubles.

While it seemed like that, this man was stronger than he looks.

Much like me.

After seeing that extra stunt, the members of the Streetlight Talon grinned at each other before walking forward to the mess I created. Their fur-mane black hoodies were glinted by the illumination of the nearby lamp attached at the pillar, waving like grass as they moved.

One by one, they launched a kick and punches to those two. More people joined to have some fun as it went on.

"This. Is. Why. Folks!" shouted the leader of the patron group in the middle of the trashing. "One. Should. Follow. The. Rules!"

"More like, stop being a loser. Am I right?"

"Regardless, the two of you have been messing with an important person in this District."

That was definitely an exaggeration, I'm just a simple nobody here.

"All prosthetic and no talk, then get beaten by a man with zero augmentation!"

That one was a lie. I actually have one motor neuron augmentation for my lower limb movement, the thing with 'zero augmentation' was just a false rumor I purposely spread from time to time.

"Oh well, they are having fun." I started to look around and searched for the firearm.

With a quick hand, I picked it up and put it within the inside pocket of my sweat-jacket.

Filled with satisfaction, I moved away as the choir of colliding strike and steel filled the pub with an abstract melody.

Suddenly, a translucent barrier with numerous sorcery symbols was casted by Lorenzo, but it was immediately nullified by a variant of Anti-Magic Sword from one of the patron guard.

"This fella is still retaliating!"

"That trick won't do it here, bud."

Likewise Giovanni's body began to heat up, releasing a bright red vapor into the air,as a sign of him wanting to take down the Cassandra Tavern along with his dead.

A curve of visible wind scar was sent by one of the Streetlight Talons, the cut was so precise that it deactivated the self-explosion, and possibly killed the poor man if he still had any consciousness at that point.

"Self-explosion!? Not on my watch! I have already fought with more than one thousand prosthetic freaks before your parents could wipe your asses—"

"Dunkrieg, you bastard! You almost cut my limb off!"

Despite their wacky behavior, these patrons from the Streetlight Talon were not given enough credits for their strength.