As the boss came back to his senses a dreadful, horrific sight greeted him. All of his men, the more than 2 dozen men sized group, were lying on the cold hard pavement, over the containers, or seemingly trashed and thrown further away towards the exit. Bruised, battered, some even had strange puncture-like wounds on their abdomen, their drops of blood still spilling, painting the dark gray asphalt in vermillion.
Even his two most trusted and strongest lieutenants, Brother Iron and Brother Metal were on the ground, sprawled out in the same pose as they were thrashed and thrown against the container.
Only the shopkeeper boy, the unknown teen, and the blonde woman remained standing. The strange teenager standing a few steps away from the other two, his gaze resting at the brutal scenery.
