"Be careful. Don't splinter yourself, Leilani." The middle-aged carpenter mopped the heavy curtain of perspire, taking a deep breath of relief as few barely visible strings of white wandered into his mouth. If any Warrior was observing, they would obviously know what it is.
It's Aura, existing thinly in the busy night market.
Wrinkles creased on his forehead as he noticed his daughter's reddened fingers tips.
"Today's business is better than usual, all props to you for beautifying my sculptures, No need to do anymore manual labor sweetheart." The man grinned, grabbing the last product to display.
Leilani puckered her cherry lips, rubbing her delicate hands together as she stretched her well developed body to relax, revealing a streak of slimness and whiteness.
Simultaneously, the gang of youngsters arrived at the breathtaking scene, nearly drooling. The brightness in Reb's eyes intensified, washing the insecurity and distress away.
"She's my type." Reb murmured softly, but heard by the boy beside him.
"What did I tell ya! She's hella bomb!" The boy laughed loudly, ignoring the faces around him.
It's clear to see that these teenagers are most likely spoiled brats who take advantage of their position to pick on commoners.
"It's them again! Stay behind me Leilani!" With a stern look, the middle-aged man asked Leilani to crouch behind him as he straightened up to confront the gang.
"Good evening boys. What brings the Kaisao gang here today? If I'm not mistaken, haven't I submitted the monthly commission racket? Or are you interested in today's art piece?" Holding a meticulously detailed sculpture on his palm, he offered it to them carefully.
Despite the amazing artistry presented before him, the boy with multiple earrings threw a condescending glare as he swatted the sculpture to the ground with disgust. The bat sculpture hit the uneven ground, its magnificent wing breaking off.
"Do you actually think that I'd purchase such a cheap lowly product of a tiny stall?" The boy snorted, demanding for more. "Two person indicates double the pay. You either pay to stay, or leave this place? I believe there's no other place better than here."
The man sighed in anguish, passing the counted cash he has concluded for the night to him with trembling arms.
As an agitated young girl, Leilani couldn't stand this demoralization. Slashing out her long legs at the boy, she did not hold back.
She and her father are descendants from a dying Warrior Family that goes way back in history, or else they wouldn't be surviving through selling wooden sculptures at a night market. The Warrior traditional and practice is still inherited by the next generation, however, having a less and less glorious future. Her father trains her whenever he has time while saving up some fund for her education. Restless and strenuously. Yet this boy decided to humiliate her father's hard work? She cannot tolerate.
When her attack was about to strike his cheeks without him even being able to react, two hands has already appeared between the gap, blocking the kick, grabbing her ankle and foot.
"A semi-Tier 1 Aura User. Pretty impressive for a delicate chick like you." The orange haired boy whistled, caressing her ankle with his perverted hands. "But not suitable for fighting. I've dreamt about a female Warrior serving me in bed. Never knew that dreams were so close to me in reality."
"Impudence! Release Leilani now!" Leilani's father activated the Aura within him, posing to fight.
The orange haired boy spewed. "Pathetic. I'd be reasonable if you were a Tier 3 Warrior. An injured Tier 2 Tyro? You are no match old man."
He pushed Leilani away as Leilani's father limped towards him with anger.
"Old chum Leon. I'm sick of them too. I can't swallow anymore grudges for insulting my wife." Another figure stepped out from the crowd, wiping his oily hands against his clean apron and activated his Aura as well.
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Atlas and Nova were heading back to the mansion along with Petal, Hugh, Percy and the rest of the 'cool squad'.
"I don't think I've properly introduced my house yet." Atlas said as he mentally calculated the profits he made from this mission. "It'll be such a waste if we don't throw a celebration on the rooftop swimming pool area."
"Never knew you were the party type. Where did the, peace loving, unaffected by the quarrels of nature and keeping a low profile figure go?" Nova murmured sarcastically.
"Don't forget the handsome part. That's the most essential factor." Atlas claimed proudly, wincing his brows seductively. At least in his own opinion, that's what he thinks a seductive brow raise looks like. Sadly, he indubitably failed.
"Still cocky as ever..."
Percy lowered his voice before Atlas started rubbing his head intently while squealing, "who taught you your manners boy?"
Laughter filled the vehicle.
Only Nova noticed the sky filled with blacks clouds. No, they weren't black clouds. They were herds of crows, encircling a specific infrastructure. Their black coats imbued a melancholic ambience, as if friends and family attending a depressing funeral. The perching crows lowered their tiny heads and the ones above formed a ring, like they were lamenting for a fallen comrade, blessing it with a dark halo of holiness.
"Are they...?" Atlas realized the unique occurrence outside.
"Yes they are. Crows are intelligent species. They highlight the importance of family and mourn for their loved ones, either in flocks, or up to thousands, commemorating them glamorously."
"I see."
The scene delivered Atlas a feeling of the sky falling. The contrast between the ethereal neon lights below and heavy darkness above created a Nova-ish atmosphere, as in the two extreme opposites of Nova's elemental Aura combined, as if dawn and dusk has just collided and joined hands, hand painting where the diffused sky is scattered by horizon's refined rays.
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Seeing a Tier 3 Tyro Aura User approaching, the orange hair youngster's expression changed, but it immediately returned to normal. "Merely a chef without combat experience. I live on these streets. Everyone knows I can fight well." He glanced lecherously at Leilani.
He licked his dry lips. "And dirtily too."
"That's enough!" Leon cannot suppress his anger any further, diving a fist ragingly at the hooligan.
"Weak." He snickered, dodging to the left.
However, as if the chronic pain triggered on his leg, Leon suddenly fell left, his injured leg demonstrating a wobbly texture as his callused fist accidentally collided onto the hooligans arm.
The pain spreading from his arm and riding up his head dispelled the lingering underestimation. He withstood punch, grabbing towards Leon's still thick and healthy hair.
He is a hooligan after all. So he shall fight as a hooligan.
But like a drunken man, Leon collapsed lifelessly at the last second, allowing the attack to miss his head while he himself got back to his feet, elbowing the hooligan forcefully with the hard bone of his.
[Drunken Boxing!] These two words rang in the Tier 3 Tyro Aura Users who was observing by the side, in case his pal needed help. The feints and style erased that idea off brain. It's true that he is higher Tier, and it's true that he can't fight well. Combat experience does make up for the lack of cultivation experience.
The impact sent in the hooligan staggering a few steps back. The hooligan was already agitated tremendously. Unable to defeat a Tier 2 Aura Users with severe leg injury? What use is his Tier 2 Expert cultivation level for then?!
Witnessing the sneaky snickers of his companions, his teeth clenched hard.
Reb frowned and stepped back one meter. He felt anxiety developing inside of him. This is not going to go well.
"Give me that." The orange haired hooligan snatched a metal bat from one of the youngsters hand. "I'll do this the dirty way then. It's your fault for denying our demands."
He aimed his metal bat in hand, fixating its crown at the injured middle-aged man in front of him.
Leilani jumped to shield her father instinctively. Human flesh cannot withstand metal.
"Die old man!" The expression on his face is brutal and excited.
Bang!
An acute boom with heavy recoil drowned his voice, shattering the destined result.
The orange haired hooligan felt a scorching burn on his palm. He tossed the metal bat frantically to tuck his hands, witnessing the charcoal skin and charred flesh where he held the handle of the bat at.
The bat clattered in a decreasing gradient, spinning to a full stop.
A deep hole is now visible on the crown of the metal bat, extending to the opposite brim where the tip of a bullet protruded from the glossy metal handle, hot smoke still discharging crisply from the intimidating bullet.
The protruded golden tip faced the direction of where the Tier 2 Expert is grimacing, while the other far end traced to a smoking handgun, gripped in slender fingers.
Behind the disseminating mist of freshly fired gunpowder fazed a glistening golden marble. The golden marble vanished for a second before reappearing, inscribing indescribable horror mentally.
No, it is not a golden marble. It's an eye.
It is a golden pupil.