On the street, the source of the noise became visible—a convoy of motorcycles carrying bizarre, humanoid figures.
These figures were aptly described as strange, for none of the riders resembled ordinary people. Their hair was dyed in hues of green, red, blue, and white, some even sporting bald heads adorned with grotesque or sensual tattoos.
Their attire was equally eclectic. The ragged beggar's garb was the most common; some wrapped ropes around their bodies to fashion rudimentary clothing, while others eschewed clothing altogether, opting instead for body art that painted various shapes upon their skin, substituting for the lack of garments.
In no time, these flamboyant motorcycle riders—true paragons of rebellious fashion—roared up to the restaurant's entrance, encircling it with an air of menace, blocking off the area completely.
"Hey, Old Lude, when are you going to repay the money you owe us?" the leader, a man with a white-dyed broom-style haircut, dismounted and was immediately joined by others who followed him into the restaurant.
"You bastards, don't even think about getting a single euro from me!" Old Lude cursed as he swung his baseball bat threateningly.
"Enough, old man, this is your final warning. If we don't get the 2,000 euros by tomorrow, you and this damn restaurant will meet your maker!" The broom-headed man sneered as he threatened, then his eyes fell on the two Asian figures nearby. A malicious grin spread across his face. "Heh, look here, two more people, and they're Asians, huh?" His gaze narrowed, lingering lecherously on the woman among them. "Miss, have we met before?"
"You damn bastards!" Fang Yingying's eyes burned with unprecedented hatred.
"Haha, boss, isn't she the woman who insulted you last time?" a small man beside the leader fawned, eager to please.
"Now I remember, Billy, you little bastard, get away from me, I can't stand your foul breath!" The broom-headed man shoved the small man aside and gave the woman a lecherous once-over, before pulling a large, black man into the fray. He slapped the man's shoulder with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Oh my God, I'm so excited. Do you see that? My dream goddess has finally appeared. She's even more beautiful than before. I'm so lucky! Hahah!"
"Get lost, you little bastard, do you want to feel the wrath of Old Lude?" The chef, now brandishing his baseball bat with the protective ferocity of a mother beast, warned.
"You old fool, you think you're still relevant?" The broom-headed man sneered at the old chef, who stood with his weapon, but was no threat in the eyes of the thug. His attention shifted back to Fang Yingying, his gaze turning predatory. "So, beautiful miss, do you know how heartbroken I was when you disappeared last time? I drank all night, haha. Now you've reappeared—could this be divine intervention? Come with me, miss. I promise you'll never want to leave. Trust me, I, Peter, am very persuasive."
Fang Yingying's whole body trembled with rage, and had it not been for the man beside her holding her back, she would have lunged at them in a blind fury.
"You little bastard, die!" Old Lude shouted, his anger erupting as he swung his bat toward the insolent gang.
However, his age and lack of physical training betrayed him. The swing missed, and the broom-headed man seized the opportunity, snatching the bat from his hands. "You old fool, you dare strike me? Damn it, I'll send you straight to God!" With that, he swung the bat wildly toward the chef.
Fang Yingying screamed as she saw the bat heading straight for the unprepared Old Lude. But before it could land, a figure flashed into the scene, and the bat was effortlessly caught in a single hand.
"Did you not know that the elderly deserve respect?" Xiang Ri said, his voice calm as he effortlessly wrenched the bat from the thug's grasp.
"Who the hell are you?" The broom-headed man's expression changed, his initial arrogance faltering. Despite the apparent frailty of this Asian man—his right hand injured and his build unimposing—the immense strength that had transferred through the bat left him wary. He hadn't even seen the man's movements clearly, only a blur before the bat was snatched away.
"Who I am is of no consequence," Xiang Ri said, positioning himself protectively in front of the chef, his eyes icy as he regarded the scum before him. "What matters is that you've disturbed my lunch, and I am now deeply displeased." He paused, then turned his tone smug. "I'll give you ten seconds to vanish from my sight."
"Haha!" Despite the surprise from earlier, the broom-headed man wasn't intimidated. Outnumbered, he sneered and bristled, his temper boiling. "You bastard, I don't care who you are."
"Ten seconds have passed," Xiang Ri interrupted him before he could finish, his voice cold. "You failed to make use of the time I gave you; now, don't blame me."
"Are you joking? You want to teach us a lesson? Damn, you yellow-skinned monkey must be out of your mind!" The small man, who had been kicked aside earlier, was about to speak when suddenly, as if struck by a rampaging bull, he was sent flying out of the restaurant and landed on the street.
The others were left utterly dumbfounded, unable to comprehend how the fight had erupted so suddenly, and in such a shocking manner. Especially the members of the motorcycle gang who had arrived with the small man, they instinctively shrank back, calculating the distance between where the small man had stood and where he now lay—at least seven or eight meters. This realization stopped them from advancing.
"Hey, don't be afraid. He's only one person, and we have so many," the large black man, whose body was bound in ropes, waved his steel rod. But before he could finish, he too met the same fate as his companion and was sent flying, his weapon falling into the hands of the yellow-skinned man who had just demonstrated his immense strength.
"If you don't run, I might go easier on you," Xiang Ri said with a playful smile, casually leaning the baseball bat against the side while gripping the bent steel rod in one hand. With a slight exertion, the rod twisted like a piece of dough, the formerly five-centimeter thick rod now reduced by four-fifths.
"Oh my God!" A chorus of gasps erupted from the gang, and in an instant, they scattered in every direction. Anyone who failed to run would be a fool. They certainly didn't want to end up like that twisted steel rod—if someone could crush it so effortlessly, their own bodies would surely be no match for such strength.
Watching the chaos unfold, Xiang Ri chased after the last fleeing member, delivering a swift kick that sent the leader of the gang, Broom-Head, flying.
The restaurant, already cramped with a dozen or more people, seemed barely large enough for such a crowd. After Xiang Ri kicked one man down, the sheer force of it sent the others tumbling, and except for the fastest runner, who managed to escape, none of them could get back on their feet.
Of course, the one who escaped might consider himself lucky or unlucky, for Xiang Ri despised those who tried to flee. As a result, with no hesitation, he hurled the deformed steel rod at the gang member trying to ride away, striking him in the leg.
The outcome was predictable: the unfortunate escapee collapsed to the ground, howling in agony.
Fang Yingying was numb with shock. While she had known of his impressive skills, she never imagined he was capable of such overwhelming power. A dozen thugs, all taken down in an instant, none escaping. What was even more incredible was that Xiang Ri hadn't made any grand gestures—aside from the almost magical manipulation of the steel rod, it had all been accomplished with a few kicks and one throw.
Old Lude, the plump chef, was the most amusing. He seemed still dazed, muttering incoherently to himself, though the words were too mumbled to be understood.
Xiang Ri glanced at the reactions of the two bystanders but said nothing. He walked up to Broom-Head, who had been the most arrogant of them all, and with an air of utmost seriousness, said, "I told you, if you didn't run, I'd go easier on you. Now, I'm afraid things won't be so lenient."
"You… you're a demon!" Broom-Head gasped, his face filled with terror. Truthfully, this day's events had far surpassed any absurdity he had ever witnessed, and what made it worse was that he was the one experiencing it firsthand. If given the chance, he wished he had never come to this place.
"A demon? Heh, I like that description," Xiang Ri grinned devilishly. "Now, tell me, how should I deal with you?"
"What... What do you want? Let me tell you, this is France, and we are protected by the law!" Broom-Head, unable to suppress his fear, shouted as the man drew closer.
"Protected by the law?" Xiang Ri's eyes grew cold. "Then, does that mean this restaurant isn't protected? Damn you, daring to extort!"
"No, no, we'll never do it again!" A member of the gang with green hair suddenly interjected.
"It's too late to apologize now." Xiang Ri cast a fleeting glance at the green-haired man and suddenly grabbed Broom-Head by the throat with his left hand, effortlessly lifting him off the ground as if he were no more than a lifeless dog. "Now, tell me, how should I punish you?"
"Oh my God!" The cheese girl, now dressed in her new uniform, emerged from the back with a young chef holding a spatula. Both were stunned upon witnessing the scene.
Xiang Ri turned to glance at them, and a smile tugged at his lips. The cheese girl's outfit was so absurd it was almost comical; she was wearing what appeared to be a flat-bottomed frying pan on her head, and in her hands was a tool that looked like something for beating egg yolks. Thankfully, the young chef beside her wasn't too conspicuous, holding a simple spatula.
"What's going on here?" the cheese girl asked, confused. Upon seeing Xiang Ri holding a man aloft with one hand, she rushed toward him as if she had discovered a new world. "Wow, you're amazing! You just picked up someone taller than you with one hand! You're incredible!"
The young chef, more composed than his companion, surveyed the scene. After witnessing Xiang Ri's remarkable strength, he could deduce that the troublemakers had been dealt with. However, he still doubted that the unassuming Asian man could possess such power. Could it be "kung fu"? The thought flashed in his mind as his gaze lingered on the man who had single-handedly lifted another.
At that moment, an inappropriate voice cut through the air: "Police! Don't move!"