Chapter Two: Whack a Gangster...

The bustling city noises, the eclectic mix of animated people, and the technological wonders around him were captivating.

Yet, amid all the neon lights and high-tech displays, after two hours of walking around an old, almost dilapidated library caught his attention.

Walking in, Rhett was hit with that unmistakable scent of old books.

However, as he browsed the shelves, he realized that many literary works he remembered from his Earth were absent. Even his own books were nowhere to be found.

"Young man, if you're looking for those virtual reality nonsense books, you're in the wrong place," a raspy voice chimed in.

Turning around, Rhett was met with a short, stout, elderly librarian. Her glasses hung precariously on the tip of her nose, and her hair was a wild gray nest.

Rhett smirked. "Actually, I was looking for some quality literature."

"Hmph! A miracle indeed," she retorted, her eyes scrutinizing him. "Kids these days are all about those blasted VR games. No respect for the classics."

Despite her harsh demeanour, something about her reminded Rhett of his grandmother from his original Earth.

The nostalgia brought a pang of sadness and wonder about how his family was coping after his sudden departure.

...

After a few hours of reading and some surprisingly entertaining banter with the sassy librarian, Rhett decided to head out for some food, before going back home.

A sign reading "Izakaya BBQ" drew him in, and he soon found himself seated at a cosy establishment, ordering an array of skewers.

As he waited, he fiddled with his ZPhone-69, still marvelling at the advanced yet complex tech of this world.

After 20 minutes His food finally arrived at his table.

As he was enjoying his meal the customers were unaware of a danger that was approaching.

The door creaked open, letting in a rush of cool evening air.

Rhett glanced up to see five menacing men enter.

Tattoos snaked up their arms, piercings glinted under the dim lighting, and their glares seemed to challenge anyone who met their gaze.

The atmosphere in the izakaya changed instantly.

Conversations hushed, and an oppressive silence fell. Rhett's grip on his ZPhone tightened.

...

The mood in the izakaya went from relaxed to oppressive in mere moments. Rhett however was entirely focused on his skewers.

.....

"You're a month early," growled the shop owner, an older man with a brown scruffy beard and a hardened look in his eyes. "The agreement was for the end of the month!"

The apparent leader of the gangsters, a bulky man with a snake tattoo slithering from his wrist to his neck, smirked.

"Times change, old man. Maybe we want our money sooner." he purred, a sinister undertone to his voice.

Laughter erupted from the gang as one particularly lanky member grabbed a chair and smashed it against the floor, sending splinters everywhere.

*Crack*

Panic ensued. Customers scrambled out, leaving their meals half-eaten in their haste to escape the impending conflict.

Rhett, however, seemed almost bored, his focus solely on savouring the flavours of his meal.

"The chicken is good but could have been marinated for longer, it also needs some salt...and maybe a Ranch-like sauce for a side."

As the shop owner braced for the head gangster's next move, a loud yawn pierced the tension.

All eyes snapped to Rhett, who looked up from his plate with an air of annoyance. "Do you mind?" he asked. "You're ruining my meal."

The lanky gangster who had smashed the chair, clearly irritated at being ignored, sneered at Rhett. "Watch your mouth, kid. This doesn't concern you."

But Rhett simply sighed, standing up slowly and stretching, eyeing the broken chair leg on the floor. "Boss," he called out nonchalantly to the shop owner, "you might want to call for five ambulances. I have a feeling they're going to be needed."

Laughter erupted once more, louder and harsher this time. The absurdity of the boy's confidence was a joke to them. But their amusement was short-lived.

Without warning, the lanky thug lunged at Rhett, aiming to grab his hair. In a fluid motion, Rhett sidestepped, catching the thug's wrist and twisting it with such force that a sickening crack echoed throughout the establishment.

The thug screamed, but before he could recover, Rhett swung the chair leg squarely into his face, sending him crumpling to the ground, unconscious.

The izakaya fell into stunned silence. The balance of power had shifted.

One by one, the remaining gangsters lunged at Rhett, only to be met with a flurry of precise strikes.

Rhett danced around them, his moves calculated and devastating, all the while wearing an amused grin.

"Come on," he teased as he sidestepped another punch, "I thought you guys were tough? Or are chairs your only opponents?"

Another thug, this one bulkier with a shaved head, swung a wild punch at Rhett. With fluid grace, Rhett sidestepped, using the momentum of the thug's own move to send him crashing into a table. "Two down," Rhett muttered to himself, smirking.

The other three, seeing their comrades taken down so swiftly, hesitated.

But their leader, Snake Tattoo, gritted his teeth and signalled them forward. They charged, attempting to surround Rhett.

Ducking, weaving, and using the chair leg as both a shield and a weapon, Rhett tackled them one by one.

A sharp jab to the ribs here, a sweeping leg there, and even a forceful headbutt when one got too close. With each takedown, Rhett threw in a quip, "You sure you guys are professionals?"

When only Snake Tattoo remained, the two locked eyes. A tense moment passed before the leader lunged, drawing a hidden knife.

But Rhett, drawing from his previous life's experiences, deftly avoided the blade, disarming his opponent and finishing with a powerful kick, sending him sprawling next to his fallen comrades.

The shop owner, mouth agape, could only watch in stunned silence. What had just transpired was nothing short of a miracle.

A child had just taken down five hardened criminals with nothing more than a broken chair leg.

Rhett dusted himself off and resumed his seat, taking a final bite of his skewer.

Placing a generous amount of money on the counter, he nodded to the shop owner. "Thanks for the meal. Best I've had in a while."

And with that, he casually strolled out of the izakaya, leaving behind a scene of a bewildered shop owner, and five unconscious thugs.