"Good sir, take pity and spare me a bite to eat..."
"Ah—there's a thief!"
At the cry, passersby instinctively checked to see if anything had been stolen. A fierce-looking, bearded man reached for his waist and felt the hidden pocket where he kept his money had been sliced open by a sharp blade. His clothes were ruined, and his belongings were gone too.
His sharp eyes caught sight of someone skulking through the crowd.
He closed the distance in three quick strides.
The furtive figure realized things were going badly and made as if to shove through the crowd.
He had barely taken two steps before the man grabbed him by the collar.
A tremendous force yanked him backward, sending him stumbling before he slammed hard into the ground. Several pieces of silver spilled from his clothes. The bearded man's eyes blazed with fury. "You lowlife! You dare steal from your grandpa? Pah! If I don't beat you to death today, you'll think I've wasted all these years making my way in this line of work!"
With that, fists as big as steamed buns rained down.
Several heavy punches landed, making the thief see stars.
The pain sent several broken teeth, mixed with bloody saliva, flying far away. Yet not a single onlooker thought he'd been beaten too badly. Instead, they all clapped and cheered, wishing they could go over and land a couple of punches themselves. These thieves were despicable. Not only did they steal, they even brazenly snatched things in broad daylight. Just yesterday, an old woman selling vegetables had been robbed and shoved to the ground. Her head struck the pavement, blood poured out, and she died on the spot!
Only when someone shouted, "The constables are here!" did the crowd scatter like startled birds and beasts.