Dealt with

The clown-faced gyaru and her posse froze, their smug expressions morphing into shock as their so-called muscle hit the pavement like sacks of rice.

The buzzcut thug clutched his jaw as he groaned while the leather-jacket guy scrambled to his feet, his face a mix of embarrassment and rage.

The crowd around us gasped. Once the surprise passed, many of them reached for their phones, capturing the moment like vultures circling a fresh kill.

“W-what the hell?!” The clown-faced gyaru eventually squeaked. Her voice cracked as she stutteringly took a step back. Her earlier courage melted faster than her caked-on foundation. Her two friends clung to each other, wide-eyed, suddenly realizing their backup wasn’t as invincible as they’d thought.

I dusted off my hands, keeping my stance loose but ready in case the thugs decided to try round two.