"How?" Hans asked. The man chuckled, studying Hans's features. "Maybe it's because it's night here. I can barely see the patches of dirt on you."
He stopped for a moment, before moving through the circle of muggers, and stepping up right behind us.
"Maybe, I should take a more personal look," he said, his voice slithering into our ears. "Possibly. Get on 'em boys."
Suddenly, the muggers advanced towards us, which Hans brought out his little tranquilizer. "Hey! I will shoot," he said, pointing at them.
I'm not sure he thought that through.
The man with the trilby hat rose his revolver towards Hans. "Wrong move, son," he admitted. "Wrong move."
Hans lowered his head and looked at me, which I nodded, looking at the blood-thirsty muggers.
"Deal with 'em," the man said, which the muggers stormed once again.
One of them pulled out a switchblade, and raised their wrists, swinging for my head.
