"Do we want to go take a look?" A police officer, who was drinking at a street stall, asked his colleague.
"Take a look? What's there to see?" The older police officer asked, looking puzzled.
"Something seems to have happened over there."
"Haha, what's the big deal? That's not our jurisdiction. Why bother running over? Come on, let's drink. Oh, by the way, that girl from the art school is really something. Her skills in bed are incredible, I can barely keep up... Ah, let's just close one eye and ignore it. There are some things we can't control."
The young police officer wanted to say something, but seeing the expression on his colleague's face, he let out a heavy sigh and downed a large cup of beer in one gulp.
Ethan Wraith clenched his fists tightly, his mouth bleeding at the corners. The woman was no longer making a sound, lying silently on the ground, replaced by her husband's angry roar.
"Alright, stop hitting her. You bunch of bastards, can't you leave an old man some dignity? You're really good at beating people up—" The bare-chested old man waved his hand, signaling his underlings to stop.
Ethan quickly walked up to the woman, checked her pulse, and rapidly pressed several acupoints on her body. He patted the woman's husband on the back and said in a deep voice, "Hurry up and send her to the hospital."
Remembering something, Ethan took out all his money and handed it over. "Take this. If it's not enough, come find me."
"My wife is okay, right? Thank you. Thank you," the man with glasses asked, taking Ethan's money, and weakly carried his wife's body towards the taxi at the road intersection.
It's me who should be thanking them. Why do innocent people always get hurt? Ethan sighed, watching the couple's silhouette disappear into the taxi.
Sophia Mercer tightly grasped Ethan's hand, feeling safe this way.
"Hey, kid, come here," the fat man beckoned to Ethan.
Ethan smiled and walked towards him, with Sophia Mercer following closely behind.
"Are you not afraid?" The fat man looked at Ethan's expression, asking doubtfully.
"No, I'm not," Ethan shook his head.
The fat man slapped him again.
Ethan was furious, but he countered with a slap of his own, opening the fat man's hand.
"You dare to hit my brother Ethan—" Sophia Mercer, standing beside Ethan, saw the fat man about to hit Ethan again and slapped him back. The fat man hadn't even reacted yet, and Sophia had already slapped him again.
The fat man's right hand was burning with pain, and he roared at his underlings, "What's wrong with you guys? Are you all dead? ***, I got hit, and you're all just standing there doing nothing? Get over here!"
Several thugs rushed out, their faces twisted with excitement. Sophia Mercer saw someone was about to hit Ethan again and ran to block in front of him, using her frail body to shield him from potential attacks. Her eyes were determined, but tears kept falling.
Ethan's heart ached as he pulled Sophia into his arms. "Don't cry, little Sophia. I'm fine."
Ethan smiled and wiped away Sophia's tears, but they just kept falling.
"Brother Ethan, I won't let them hurt you," Sophia said, touching Ethan's angular face.
"Yeah, they can't hurt me. Just a bunch of trash, not my opponents."
"But there are so many of them—"
"One piece of trash is the same as a group of trash. Don't worry, for little Sophia, they won't dare touch me again." Ethan gently wiped away Sophia's tears again, and the girl smiled, her face pure and beautiful.
The two of them were so intimate, it enraged the fat man. Do they need to make such a big deal about beating up a kid? Just knock him down and that's it. And they're still flirting in front of everyone—-that little brat is someone I want to pamper myself.
The fat man roared, "You bunch of bastards, come on! What are you waiting for? Waiting for them to have kids?"
A thug with a shaved head thought he could impress the fat man and rushed out first. One punch came flying, but Ethan didn't dodge, waiting until the last second to grab the thug's wrist.
The thug struggled a few times, then kicked out again.
Ethan smiled cruelly and pulled the thug's hand back, then shook it violently, causing the bones to crack and break.
"Ah—" The thug screamed in pain before passing out.
Ethan patted Sophia's shocked little face. "Scared?"
"No," Sophia smiled back at Ethan.
The fat man finally realized that this guy was not easy to deal with and roared at his underlings, "Get the weapons, all of you!"
The sound of metal clashing filled the air as the thugs pulled out steel pipes and knives from their clothes. With these weapons in hand, their courage grew, and they charged forward again.
"Stop!" A clear voice rang out.
"Stop right there." A seductive-looking girl walked towards them, shouting to stop them.
The girl was wearing a short, tight white skirt that exposed her fair and plump thighs, and a red tight-fitting top that accentuated her well-developed chest. Her hair was dyed a deep purple color, and her eyes were lined with dark blue eyeliner. It seemed she had just come from a karaoke bar, as her clothes were drenched and clinging to her body, revealing her sensual curves.
No wonder people say "big breasts, no brains." Just a while ago, a woman was kicked to the ground for trying to intervene. Now, another foolish girl was trying to stop them. The onlookers began to worry about this little girl.
To everyone's surprise, the thugs stopped in their tracks when they saw who the girl was. They quickly lined up, bowed their heads, and greeted the girl with a chorus of "Miss."
The girl let out a cold snort, helped Ethan Wraith and Sophia Mercer up from the ground, and handed Ethan a pack of tissues from her pocket, asking, "Are you okay?"
Ethan took the tissues without a word, handed two to Sophia, and used one to wipe his face. The white tissue quickly turned red with blood. Ethan smiled coldly and said, "I'm not okay."
"You're looking for trouble, huh? Do you want to get beaten up?" one of the thugs, a fat guy, sneered at Ethan.
The girl glared at the fat guy and asked, "What happened, Bob?"
"Well, Miss, we were just changing shifts and came out to eat when this kid started cursing at us, saying we were gangsters and not good people. We got angry and taught him a lesson," the fat guy explained, his head bowed in fear.
The girl turned to Ethan and asked, "Is that what happened?"
Ethan snorted. "He's lying. We were just doing business, and they started trouble for no reason. Who would believe such an excuse?"
Sophia's face turned cold, and she couldn't help but feel angry when she saw Ethan's battered face.
The girl's voice turned cold and stern. "Bob, have you forgotten the rules?"
The fat guy's head drooped even lower. "No, Miss."
"What's the 13th rule?" the girl asked.
"All brothers in the organization must not provoke civilians or cause trouble without reason."
"What's the punishment for violators?"
"Cut off their finger... I was wrong, Miss," the fat guy said, kneeling down and kowtowing repeatedly, his head bleeding.
The other thugs followed suit, kneeling down and begging for mercy.
"The rules are in place for a reason. Are you waiting for my father to handle it?" the girl asked, her voice cold and detached.
The fat guy stopped kowtowing and pulled out a dagger, cutting off his own left pinky finger. The other thugs followed his lead, cutting off their own fingers.
"Get out of here," the girl said, waving her hand dismissively.
The thugs quickly scrambled to their feet, bowed, and thanked the girl before carrying the battered Ethan away.
The girl looked at Ethan's battered face and smiled, her chest heaving with excitement. Then, she composed herself and asked, "Do you need to go to the hospital?"
Ethan coldly refused. "You're all in the same gang. You send your underlings to beat people up, and then you come to smooth things over. You're good at playing both sides, but what can we do?"
The girl smiled and handed Ethan some money. "Take this to buy some medicine."
Ethan refused, but the girl insisted. "You saved me. I owe you one. They owe me too. Although you forced them to cut off their own fingers, it's not enough to make up for their mistakes."
The girl shrugged indifferently. "Do what you want, just don't get yourself killed."
Ethan's eyes turned cold, and his voice grew icy. "I'll find them."
The girl turned to leave, but Ethan called out to her. "Hey, you still owe me medical expenses, compensation for our lost business, and... "
The girl smiled and handed Ethan a few thousand dollars. "Take it, but don't think you can intimidate me. You're the first person to dare to ask me for money. You're quite bold, aren't you?"
Ethan took the money and said, "Tell your underlings I'll find them."
The girl smiled and said, "I'll tell them. But next time, don't expect me to help you."
With that, she turned and left with her friends, laughing and chatting as they got into a red sports car and sped away.
Sophia tugged on Ethan's arm, her face full of concern. "Ethan, are you really okay? We should go to the hospital."
Ethan patted Sophia's head reassuringly. "I'm fine, don't worry about me. Let's go back."
Sophia pointed to the broken ice cream cart and asked, "What about these things?"
Ethan shrugged. "Life goes on. Those broken things are in the past. We don't need to dwell on them. Tomorrow will be better."
After sending Sophia home, Ethan returned to his small apartment, took a shower, and changed out of his bloody clothes. He began to think about whether he should go after those thugs.
"Vengeance is a dish best served cold," they say, and a true gentleman would patiently bide his time, even if a decade must pass before the scales of justice balance.
Alas, the constraints of gentility do not bind me.