coobybook Chapter 271 Why are there always so many people who are oblivious to their own mortality?
Chapter 271 Why are there always so many people who are oblivious to their own mortality?
The noise inside the tavern was suddenly interrupted by a jarring sound of a door being pushed open.
A group of men dressed in black leather jackets, their faces bulging with menacing expressions, walked in. Their eyes were fierce, their steps arrogant, as if the entire tavern belonged to them. The leader was a bald, burly man whose face was covered in scars, and whose eyes held a cruel smile.
"Look, it's the 'Black Claw Gang'..." The patrons in the tavern whispered among themselves, all lowering their heads and avoiding eye contact.
The bald man's gaze swept across the tavern, finally settling on Arya and Russell. A glint of greed flashed in his eyes, especially when he noticed the psionic aura shimmering around Arya; a malicious smile crept onto his lips.
"Hey, isn't this a psionicist?" The bald man's voice carried a hint of mockery as he strode over to Arya and Russell's table, his men following closely behind.
Arya looked up, her gaze turning cold as she looked at the bald man, a hint of warning in her voice: "We don't want trouble."
The bald man laughed heartily, a hint of disdain in his voice: "Trouble? Here, I am the trouble." His gaze swept unabashedly over Arya. "Little beauty, how about a drink with me?"
Russell remained seated, gently setting his wine glass down. His gaze was cold and stern, his voice low and icy: "Get out."
The bald man's smile froze instantly. His gaze shifted to Russell, a flash of anger in his eyes: "What did you say?"
Russell slowly stood up, his tall frame like a moving mountain. His gaze was cold and stern, his voice carrying an undeniable air of authority: "I said, get out."
The bald man's face twisted into a grimace. He waved his hand, and his henchmen immediately surrounded him. The atmosphere in the tavern instantly became tense, and the patrons retreated, afraid of being drawn into the conflict.
“Big guy, you better know who you're talking to,” the bald man said, a hint of threat in his voice. “Here, nobody dares mess with the Black Claw Gang.”
Russell didn't answer, but just stared at him coldly. His gaze was filled with murderous intent, as if he were looking at a dead man.
Arya stood up, a psychic aura shimmering around her. Her gaze was cold and stern: "You'd better listen to him."
Enraged by the two men's attitude, the bald man waved his hand, and his men immediately rushed forward. A battle erupted instantly.
Russell sneered and punched one person away, then kicked another. These people were nothing but weaklings in front of Russell; he could take them all down in a matter of minutes.
Arya's psionic aura formed barriers in the air, blocking all enemy attacks. With a gentle wave of her hands, beams of psionic energy shot towards the enemies like arrows, each attack taking away an enemy's combat power.
The fight ended quickly. The gangsters lay sprawled on the ground, their cries of pain echoing around them. The bald man, knocked to the ground by Russell's punch, was covered in blood, his eyes filled with terror.
“Get out.” Russell’s voice was low and cold, as if it came from the depths of hell.
The bald man and his henchmen scrambled out of the tavern, not daring to look back. The tavern's patrons stared in disbelief at Russell and Arya, their eyes filled with awe.
“A silent beast…” a drinker murmured, his voice trembling slightly.
Arya walked up to Russell, a hint of appreciation in her eyes: Thank you.
Russell did not answer, but simply nodded.
The music in the pub started playing again, and Russell and Arya sat back down at the bar. Arya took a small sip of red wine, her gaze carrying a deeper meaning: "You know what, Russell? You're really special."
Russell nodded slightly but did not speak.
At this moment, the captain came over and said: We've gotten ourselves into trouble, and they'll be retaliating soon. Let's go.
Neon lights flickered in the night sky as Black Claw gang members surrounded Russell and his crew. The bald man stood at the front of the crowd, his scarred face appearing particularly menacing under the lights. His gaze swept over Russell, a flicker of fear crossing his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by ferocity.
“Big guy, I know you’re not someone to mess with,” the bald man’s voice carried a hint of threat, “but nobody leaves here easily. How about we have a boxing match? If you win, I’ll let you go. If you lose…” His smile held a cruel edge, “then don’t blame me for being ruthless.”
The crew looked at Russell nervously, and Captain Marcus whispered, "Russell, don't agree to him. We can find a way..."
Russell raised his hand, interrupting the captain. His gaze was cold, and his voice was deep and forceful: "I accept."
The bald man's smile grew even more ferocious. He waved his hand, and a burly man stepped out from the crowd behind him. This man was all muscle, his face covered in battle scars, and his eyes held a fierce glint. He was the Black Claw Gang's strongest henchman, the underground boxing champion—"Iron Fist" Karl.
"Iron Fist" Carl walked up to Russell, a hint of disdain in his eyes: "Big guy, I'll make you regret stepping into this ring."
Russell didn't answer, but just stared at him coldly. His gaze was full of disdain, as if he were looking at an ant.
The atmosphere on the street instantly tensed. Black Talon gang members formed a circle, surrounding Russell and Carl. The crew stood by, watching the impending battle with bated breath.
"Begin!" The bald man's voice carried a hint of excitement.
Carl launched the first attack, his fist slamming into Russell's chest like a hammer. Russell didn't dodge, but simply raised his arm slightly to block the blow. The force of the punch caused Russell's arm to tremble slightly, but his gaze remained cold and unwavering.
"Is that all the strength you have?" Russell's voice carried a hint of sarcasm.
Carl was enraged, and his fists rained down on Russell. Each blow carried devastating power, but Russell simply parried them as if toying with an ant.
The onlookers on the street stared in disbelief at the fight. They had never seen anyone so easily subdued by "Iron Fist" Karl's attacks.
A hint of mockery flashed in Russell's eyes. He suddenly raised his foot and gave a light kick. Carl was sent flying as if hit by a truck, crashing heavily to the ground.
“It’s over.” Russell’s voice was low and cold.
Carl struggled to his feet, his eyes filled with terror. He knew he was no match for Russell.
The bald man's face turned pale. He knew that things had spiraled out of control. He waved his hand, and the Black Claw gang members quickly stepped back, making way for him.
"You can leave now," the bald man said, a hint of reluctance in his voice.
Russell did not answer, but gave him a cold look before turning and leaving the street with his crew.
Arya walked over to Russell and said excitedly, "Russell, well done!"
Russell didn't answer, but nodded, though a slight smile played on his lips, as if he were satisfied with the outcome of the battle.