Immediately, more than ten thugs charged in. The manager had given his order - it didn't matter who they were, beat up anyone they saw.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The first three guys who rushed in didn't have time to react. Their heads were cracked open by flying liquor bottles. Fresh blood rushed out and they couldn't stop it with their hands, leaving them writhing and groaning in pain on the floor.
The guys behind saw the sight of blood. They thought, man whoever was inside was pretty fierce.
"Guys, we have the manager's support. Who are we afraid of? Go!" One upright punk with a Mohawk hairstyle pulled a knife from his waist and charged in again.
Thud!
Another liquor bottle came flying out. Despite the punk's readiness, the wine bottle was swift, accurate and relentless. Just like a bullet from a sharpshooter, which he didn't have time to dodge.The blow left his head wet and when he reached to touch it, oh man! His head was split open again - all blood and shards of glass.
