33. Fun

Lance got himself together; this was why he was here.

He had brass knuckles, had his folding knife, and the drugs that could paralyze even a horse. 

He had worked hard during this time to rise to the position of being exclusively in charge of the VIP room that they visited regularly. 

Nonetheless, he could not work there twenty-four hours a day, and the shifts were randomly assigned. So today was finally the day. 

This time there was no nervousness; after pushing his nausea down, he felt surprisingly calm.

The club paid him with cash after each shift ended, and they did not have his real name, no documents regarding him; everything was ready.

He had just told the guy who hired him about his sad past, evoking enough pity to let him work here illegally. 

The VIP rooms were soundproof, and this place valued privacy above anything else, which could only help or harm him.

What he only learned after working here for some time and what made his plan so much easier was that the four guys were known for liking fresh meat and that it didn't matter if they were female or male.

So it was already established to let the illegal working youths work for the VIP rooms after some time, to let the four of them have fun because they naturally paid well.

So, on this Saturday, he was the only waiter on the empty top floor to entertain his targets. 

He escorted them to their room and went to get their ordered beverages. Shortly before he wanted to put the drugs in their drinks, he suddenly halted.

Like this, it wouldn't be fun; what was he trying here? Drugging people and then beating their unconsciousness bodies? How would that give him satisfaction? 

Then a new and dangerous thought came to his mind.

'Aren't I the male lead? Could I lose to four rapists?' Not minding the discrepancy between this newfound reasoning and what he was here in the first place to take revenge for.

"Let's get wild."

He chuckled, putting away drugs and brass knuckles, throwing the drinks on the floor; an evil grin bloomed on his face.

The loud chatter did not alarm anyone because there was nobody there. He strode into the VIP room. He didn't know if the guy number four was the same guy from back then, so he would try to go softer on him.

After barging into the room, he asked,

"Wanna fight?" 

Then, before someone could react, he took a vodka bottle that was placed on a cabinet as a decoration and smashed the head of the guy who was sitting on the sofa with his back to the door.

After being shocked, the other three sprang up, seeing the blood pouring out of their companion's head. When they came near him, he kicked the first in the groin—hard—and dodged the second's fist that nearly met his face. 

The third guy tackled him to the ground and punched him in the face.

Lance's lip bled, and he laughed happily, showing his bloody teeth and feeling as if he was playing an action scene.

The one from whom he had dodged helped the one sitting and hitting him, holding himself in place.

Pain accelerated his euphoria, making him feel invincible. When the fist came again, he broke a hand free and blocked the attack. He held it in a death grip and bit down with full force.

The couch guy who got the bottle over his head was still dazedly sitting in place while the groin guy was trying to get up, but could do so only with difficulty. 

Loud swearing came from above Lance, and the guy tried to break free from the boy's teeth. The other, helping to hold himself down, tried to dislocate his jaw to liberate his friend, but it didn't work.

Only when the man got up from Lance did he let his jaw relax.

Still lying on the floor, he gripped the throat of the one holding him down. Seeing an upside-down grin, the other felt a dangerous attraction to Lance. Not being able to lose the grip of a kid at least two years younger than him horrified him.

The bitten one tried to stop the bleeding, leaving Lance a moment to concentrate on strangling.

Groin guy looked in horror at his messed-up friends and bellowed,

"IT IS JUST ONE AGAINST FOUR; ATTACK TOGETHER!"

Couch guy tried to stand up but was too dizzy to find his aim.

Groinguy had to take it into his own hands and made his way to the lying youth unsteadily.

Lance, seeing that, let go of his victim, raised himself to his knees, and leaned to the side, dodging groin guy's fist, and while the other got unsteady, elbowed him in the balls. Getting the second hit in that sensitive area, Groinguy saw stars and fell on the floor with tears in his eyes. 

"FUCK FUCK FUCK!" Muffled swearing came from the floor. 

Meanwhile, Handguy, who gave up to stop the bleeding, took a bottle that was in the same place Lance got his first weapon from and held it in his non-dominant hand, aiming at Lance's head.

Lance didn't manage to dodge wholly this time, and on his forehead was a cut with more blood pouring out; the bottle had shattered directly.

He turned back to the strangled guy who was still sitting on the floor trying to catch his breath. The others paused, thinking the hit was too much for him. Seeing him take an unsteady step, he would surely break down soon. Lance surprised them by suddenly kicking the strangled guy square across the face, breaking the other's jaw.

Handguy was stunned and came forward and stabbed the bottleneck he was still holding in Lance's lower back.

Lance sucked in a deep breath from the pain that ran through him. He turned around and punched Handguy in the throat, who immediately took a few steps back in pain. Lance ran a hand over his face, looking over the battlefield that had been a lavish VIP room a few minutes earlier.

Laughing, he asked,

"How is this so much fun?"