The room fell silent for a moment, the other gangsters momentarily stunned by the unexpected turn of events. But Julyan was already in motion, his demeanor shifting from calm to something more akin to a seasoned fighter who thrived in the heat of battle- battle junkie. He flowed smoothly despite the chaos around him, his eyes gleaming with a mix of focus and amusement.
As another gangster charged, Julyan sidestepped effortlessly, delivering a sharp kick to the man’s midsection. The gangster doubled over, gasping for air, before collapsing in a heap. The remaining gangsters, now fully aware of the threat Julyan posed, regrouped and attacked in unison.
As the gangsters regrouped, Julyan’s laughter echoed through the room, a sound both mocking and exhilarated. “Is this the best you can do?” he taunted, his voice carrying over the chaos. “I’ve seen toddlers with more fight in them!”
One of the gangsters, his face flushed with frustration, lunged at Julyan. “Shut up!” he shouted, swinging wildly. But Julyan sidestepped with ease, delivering a swift kick that sent the attacker sprawling.
“Too slow!” Julyan laughed, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the fight. “Come on, surely you can do better than that!”
Another gangster charged, fists flying. “You’re gonna regret this!” he yelled, but Julyan ducked under his swing, countering with a quick jab that left the man clutching his jaw.
“Regret? The only thing I regret is not bringing popcorn to this show!” Julyan quipped, his laughter ringing out as he spun to face the next attacker.
The gangsters, growing more frustrated with each failed attempt, redoubled their efforts. “You’re not invincible!” one shouted, aiming a punch at Julyan’s head. But Julyan weaved out of the way, delivering a backhanded slap that left the attacker blinking in confusion.
“Invincible? No, just better than you lot,” Julyan replied, his voice dripping with amusement. “Keep trying, though. Practice makes perfect!”
Despite their numbers, the gangsters found themselves unable to land a solid hit. Julyan moved through them like a whirlwind, his strikes precise and mocking. “You’re making this too easy!” he called out, dodging another attack with a graceful twist.
The gangsters’ frustration boiled over, their attacks growing more desperate. “Stop laughing!” one of them yelled, charging at Julyan with renewed fury. But Julyan sidestepped again, delivering an uppercut that sent the gangster sprawling.
“Why stop? This is the most fun I’ve had all week!” Julyan retorted, his laughter infectious even as he continued to evade their blows.
As the fight wore on, the gangsters’ confidence crumbled, their movements becoming sluggish and uncoordinated. Julyan, however, remained a blur of motion, his energy seemingly endless. “Come on, don’t give up now!” he encouraged, his tone both teasing and challenging.
Finally, as the last of the gangsters hesitated, unsure whether to continue the assault, Julyan paused, his breathing steady, his expression one of calm determination. “Well, that was entertaining,” he said, surveying the room filled with groans of the defeated. “But next time, bring a real challenge.”
Julyan’s companion rubbed his eyes and blinked repeatedly, unable to believe what he had just witnessed. “Is this real?” he muttered, rubbing his eyes again. “I can’t believe Mr. Hawk is this skilled in combat,” he whispered in shock.
Seeing that no one else can fight, Julyan turned his attention to the three leaders of the gangsters. “Is that it? Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted, grinning as he looked at the owner. “I didn’t even break a sweat.”
The owner, his eyes dark with anger, pointed a trembling finger at Julyan. “You-” he stammered, at a loss for words.
Julyan pointed to himself, feigning innocence. “Me? What about me?” he asked, his tone mocking. “Is that all? If so, it’s time for me to collect what you owe,” he added, taking deliberate steps forward.
One of the gangsters, a bald man, stood up and pointed at Julyan. “You think you’re so tough, huh?” he sneered.
Julyan chuckled, eyeing the bald gangster with amusement. “Oh, look, it’s Baldy,” he teased. “You sure your men aren’t weaklings?”
Baldy bristled at the insult. “My men aren’t weak!” he retorted, his voice rising in anger.
Julyan nodded, as if humoring a clown. “Sure, sure,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Go on, Baldy, I’m waiting. But hurry up, my time is valuable. Every hour you waste, your debt multiplies.”
Frustrated, Baldy pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Bring all the strong guys to the Silver Serpent,” he barked into the phone before hanging up. Turning back to Julyan, he sneered, “Just wait. I’ll make sure you’re buried here.”
Julyan nodded, unfazed. “Just make sure you entertain me,” he replied, settling into a sofa with a relaxed demeanor. “Otherwise, your debt triples.”
Baldy sat down, seething with anger as they waited. The club owner, trying to reassure himself, said, “I trust Baldy’s men.”
Baldy nodded confidently. “This is the end for Julyan,” he replied, certain of his impending victory.
Julyan’s companion walked over to him, concern etched on his face. “Mr. Hawk, according to rumors, these three gangsters are ruthless, especially the bald one, and that other guy is even more ruthless. Some of the bald men used to be boxers who were kicked out of the league for violations and dirty fighting. Others lost their licenses for using their fists in street fights. They say all his men have undergone professional boxing training, making them more skilled than the ones you just fought,” he warned, hoping Julyan might reconsider staying.
But instead of worry, Julyan’s eyes lit up with interest. He nodded, gesturing for his companion to sit beside him. “Thanks for the info. Looks like I won’t be bored with this fight,” Julyan said with a grin, patting the man’s shoulder.
His companion swallowed hard, stunned by Julyan’s reaction. Instead of fear, Julyan seemed even more eager, making him wonder if he should have kept the information to himself.
Julyan glanced at his watch, impatience creeping in. He looked over at Baldy. “Baldy, are they going to take much longer? Your debt’s going to skyrocket if they don’t show up in ten minutes,” he said, tapping his foot.
Baldy smirked, unfazed. “Don’t worry, you’ll meet your end soon enough,” he taunted.
“Tell your men to hurry up. I’m eager to test myself against an ex-boxer,” Julyan replied, his tone challenging.
“Just wait!” Baldy snapped, irritation in his voice.
Julyan nodded, settling back to wait. A few minutes later, the door swung open, and about ten well-built men entered. Julyan could tell at a glance that these newcomers were indeed trained and capable, a clear difference from previous opponents.
Standing up, Julyan clapped his hands with genuine interest as he watched the men file in. “Now this looks promising,” he remarked, a smile playing on his lips as he prepared for the next round.