"The Fuck ya' say to me you little Shit!?!"
The only sounds you could hear, echoing through the streets, was the squelching sounds of a beating.
"P-Please, Please have mercy...UGH!!"
But the beatings didn't stop, in fact they seemed to escalate even further, as if egged on by the begging.
"Ha, did you hear that boys, the pig can still squeal."
The gang of men all laughed around the poor, fat, beaten businessman.
"H-Hey boss, L-Let me have a t-turn...Won't you?"
A larger man speaks up, shuddering like a fool, whether that be out of fear or just plain disability, we won't know, as he isn't our main character.
"Like Hell I'll let you play with another toy, last one broke cause you played to hard!"
The men all laugh again as the businessman squeaks in fear, the larger man pouts and starts to walk away, but notices a symbol drawn on the wall.
"B-Boss..."
The large man says meekly, but his leader is to busy kicking the fat man, realizing he needs to get their attention quickly he yells.
"BOSS, WE GOT A B-BIG PROBLEM!"
The leader stops, looking up in anger at the large man, but sees the symbol painted on the wall, the symbol is of a very poorly drawn dragon, even though some might think it's just petty vandalism.
Every gang in the city knows, not to mess with the one who draws it, and currently, just by standing In front of it, they are messing with him.
"B-Boys, we are leaving...we don't got time for this shit..."
They begin to walk away, with the businessman left lying on the ground, waiting for them to come back and finish the job.
"...ARGGHAH AAAHHHHH!"
Screaming, banging, and the sound of loud engines revving...Than...Nothing, as if the sounds never happened, the man too cowardly to open his eyes through the sounds, hears the sound of metal, dragging across the broken tar of the alleyway.
The sound inching ever closer, until he could basically feel the metal touching his face, he coward in fear as he awaited his death...until finally the presence In front of him spoke, in a deep, yet young voice.
"You live around here?"
The man laid still for as long as he could, until he felt the piece of metal push hard against his stomach making squeak like a pig. He knew he had to reply.
"Y-Y-Yes Sir...I live in an apartment building down the road, but I own a small bakery right over there."
He points in a direction without opening his eyes, like if he looked he would be killed.
"Money?"
The fat man jolts at that comment, is he being robbed? Well it doesn't matter, the men before already took everything on him.
"Th-Those men took it all from me..."
The presence In front of the man snaps his fingers, and footsteps quickly approach, than just as quickly run away. After a few seconds of fiddling with something, the fat man is slapped in the face with something small and rectangular, his wallet.
The fat man sits up, and for the first time opens his eyes to look at his slightly torn wallet, than slowly looks up at the man towering before him. Everything about the man standing before him was trouble... or is what he thought he would see.
but instead it was a teenager, still wearing his school uniform, now, admittedly bloody from what he can assume was a massacre just around the corner, holding a red metal baseball bat. It was hard to tell if the bat was red from paint, or if the many battles he has been through just made it red.
"I took some as payment for protection, if you have problems like this again in this area. Yell...We will come."
The teenager does a half wave and walks away, and just as quickly as he came, he was gone. The man grabs his wallet, and sees that the only bill missing, is a single dollar bill and sighs in relief.