Five figures emerge from the surrounding shadows, their crude weapons glinting faintly under the moonlight. Their stances scream inexperience, but their bloodthirsty grins tell him they think they've already won.
One of them, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, steps forward. "Hand over the girl, and we might let you live, old man."
Azure cracks his knuckles, a wry smirk on his face. "Old man? That's a bit rude. But since you're here, I might as well test all the tricks I've been practicing."
Scarface sneers. "You're confident for a dead man."
Azure doesn't reply. He's already moving.
