Crash—!
After a tremendous bang, Cicero, the Blood Skull underboss who had been strutting in so aggressively just moments ago and demanding that Old Jack hand over the Silver Knight—
was now thrown straight out of the Rust Nail Bar.
And in an extremely undignified pose at that, butt sticking up as he sprawled miserably across the street.
"Boss!"
Seeing this, the lackeys left outside immediately rushed forward to help him up.
But before they could lift Cicero to his feet,
one black shadow after another flew out of the bar.
They crashed down hard on top of Cicero.
The lackeys outside paled in terror and immediately turned to stare at the bar's entrance.
Before long, a terrifying suited thug with horns atop his head and a towering frame over two meters tall slowly emerged from the shadows of the bar.
"Off you go~"
Accompanied by Liu Ma's jaunty whistle, he flung the last two Blood Skull grunts in his hands onto the street like garbage.
Letting them join Cicero's human-pile game.
After finishing all that, Liu Ma elegantly patted the nonexistent dust from his suit.
Then he took out a handkerchief and, while wiping the bull horns he was so proud of, smiled at the person beside him. "See, old man? I told you these bags of bones don't even count as a warm-up for me."
Old Jack had a cigar clenched between his teeth, while the overheated double-barreled steam shotgun in his hands continuously vented white vapor.
He blew out a smoke ring and said in the tone of someone who had been through it all, "Kid, a single rat is indeed nothing to fear. But when rats come in swarms—"
"Then we'll talk once they've gathered a whole nest."
With that, Liu Ma tucked the handkerchief into