What?
Glenn's first reaction to the verbal assault was surprise. He had just stumbled upon a brutal assault, and one of the aggressors had noticed him, immediately making him a target.
The other two thugs momentarily paused their barbarism to follow their companion's gaze. Each of the three attackers had a distinct appearance. The closest one, the one who had spotted Glenn in the dark alley, was short—about a head shorter than Glenn, who was of average height. His bald head was covered in tattoos, likely signaling some affiliation with a criminal organization.
The other two looked equally threatening. One of them, the farthest away and the one still assaulting the victim on the ground, stood over two meters tall, sporting a green mohawk that amplified his already imposing presence. The last one, more passive, wore a full-face mask, making his expression impossible to read.
What they shared in common, however, were their implants and cybernetic enhancements. Glenn had already observed how advanced technology was in this city. Many of its citizens possessed robotic limbs of unimaginable sophistication. Here, having cybernetic implants seemed to offer undeniable advantages in strength and agility.
But for these three, the implants clearly weren't intended for utility—they were built for combat. The tattooed thug had massive robotic arms, the one with the mohawk had cybernetic eyes likely designed for superhuman perception, and the masked one hardly seemed human anymore. Their modifications spoke volumes about the technological advancement of this world.
Then there was the victim: a teenage girl wearing broken glasses and tattered, half-torn clothes that indicated poverty. Her body was covered in bruises, scrapes, and bloodstains, the result of the relentless beating she had endured.
Bastards. How dare they do this to a young girl?
After a few moments of tense silence, the tattooed man shouted again:
"Hey, are you gonna answer, asshole? Who the hell do you think you are?!" He began to move closer, closing the twenty-meter gap between them. Glenn realized that if he didn't react soon, a physical confrontation was inevitable.
"That's my question, you filthy scum! What the hell do you think you're doing to that girl, you piece of trash?!"
Glenn's voice rose with palpable rage. While he wasn't necessarily someone with a flawless moral compass, there were certain lines he could never tolerate. Excessive violence—especially toward children—was one of them. It was something he simply couldn't stand.
Following Glenn's fiery response, the group of thugs stopped their abuse entirely, turning their attention toward him.
"Hahaha, looks like the little guy's got a big mouth. Right, boys?"
"Yeah, let's mess this piece of trash up."
As the thugs visibly prepared to attack Glenn, the young girl lying in her own blood raised her head and shouted with all her strength, though her voice was weak and strained.
"GO… GO AWAY! THEY… THEY'LL KILL YOU!!!"
"Shut your filthy mouth, you little bitch!"
"ARGH!!!"
The girl rolled on the ground as one of the thugs delivered a vicious kick to her ribs. Her breathing was cut short, and she writhed in pain. Her eyes reflected a mix of visceral hatred, fear, and despair.
Meanwhile, Glenn remained at the end of the alley, observing the scene.
What should I do? he wondered. They weren't just mistreating her—they were torturing her in an isolated part of the city. Who knew how it would end?
They're three against one, and they look tough. With their implants, they must be formidable. And yet… I've taken down something far more dangerous than them. Compared to that beast, these three are weak.
Glenn's expression, still filled with rage, shifted slightly as he came to this realization. A smirk appeared on his face. Watching them approach, he felt his confidence grow.
I can take them down without a problem. I can make them pay for their barbarism with my own hands.
Noticing Glenn's amused smile, the three thugs were initially surprised, but their shock quickly turned to anger.
"You dare smile, you bastard?! We'll smash your face in!" roared the tattooed man.
"Oh really?" Glenn shot back. "You wouldn't even land a hit on me before you're crawling on the ground, begging me for forgiveness on your knees."
Seeing their pace quicken, Glenn finally decided to act. With a sudden burst of speed, he launched himself toward them, cocking his fist to strike the tattooed man square in the face.
Suddenly…
BLAM!
A dull noise echoed through the dark alley. Glenn blinked and realized he was staring up at the sky.
What?! How?!
He was on the ground, just regaining consciousness. Everything had happened so fast. He quickly pieced the events back together. He had rushed in to attack, but his physical reflexes hadn't kicked in as he'd hoped. Instead, he'd been met with a colossal robotic punch before he could even react.
By sheer luck, he'd only been out for a few seconds. Had it lasted any longer… he might not have woken up at all.
As he struggled to get up, the thugs gave him no time to recover. The tattooed man closed the distance and, with Glenn still disoriented, delivered another crushing blow to his stomach with his robotic fist, sending him sprawling back to the ground. Without hesitation, the three thugs began kicking him repeatedly.
"Take that, asshole!"
"Serves you right!"
"That'll teach you, bastard!"
"Hurgh!!"
"You pieces of shit… If I still had the strength I had earlier, you'd be crawling at my feet," Glenn growled through gritted teeth, enduring the pain.
"Yeah, and if wishes were horses, moron," barked the mohawked thug.
The tattooed man grabbed Glenn by his hair, yanking his head upward.
"Well, you little shit, now you're gonna learn to keep that big mouth of yours shut. You're about to have the longest few minutes of your life—praying for it to end."
Behind his threats, the other two snickered maliciously.
As the brutal beating continued, something abruptly interrupted them.
A familiar voice rang out from the shadows:
"Hey!! You!! What do you think you're doing?!" shouted Violette, who had suddenly appeared in the alley.
Violet?
The thugs turned toward her. The one with cybernetic eyes snarled, his face twisted in rage:
"What do you want, bitch? Is that guy your prince or something?"
Unfazed, Violet didn't react to their vulgar attitude. Her calm yet severe expression impressed Glenn, even in his battered state. She surveyed the alley with a serious gaze, noticing the beaten teenage girl at the corner and Glenn sprawled on the ground, being ruthlessly kicked.
The thugs began to approach her together, their demeanor menacing. The masked one grabbed Glenn by the hair and slammed him violently back onto the ground. The other two stepped forward, standing face-to-face with Violette in the narrow alley, Glenn lying helplessly at their feet. Their imposing size and cybernetic implants gave them a dominating presence, while Violette appeared almost fragile in comparison. Her expression darkened slightly as one of the thugs spoke again, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
"Tell me, little girl, wanna play with us? If you're nice, maybe we'll let your boyfriend live."
The malicious smile spread to the other two. Yet, to everyone's surprise, Violette didn't flinch. Without a word, she slipped a hand into her pocket, pulled out a golden medallion, and let it drop to the ground.
The thugs' eyes followed the medallion as it clattered and settled face-up at their feet.
In an instant, their expressions shifted completely. A cold silence filled the alley as they exchanged nervous glances, the tension suddenly replaced by palpable fear.
"Try me, if you dare," Violette said, her voice calm but cutting like a blade.
Without hesitation, the three thugs bolted, terror etched on their faces. One of them, now a safe distance away, shouted in panic:
"She's… She's a Kair…!"
As calm returned to the alley, Violet turned toward Glenn, who was still lying on the ground, bloodied and bruised.
"You okay? You don't look so good."