The moment they saw the grin on Art’s face, they knew something was wrong.
The guy with the cigarette was about to take a step back when a fist met him, forcing the cigarette down his throat.
He fell to the ground choking profusely as his eyes turned bloodshot red.
Without warning, the guy on the couch lunged toward him, throwing a wide punch. Art sidestepped effortlessly, and in one swift motion, his leg shot out to trip the guy, sending him crashing to the floor.
“Whoa!” the guy in the ripped armchair yelled, jumping to his feet. “Didn’t even see him move!”
“Shut it!” The guy with the toothpick barked. He charged next, aiming a low kick at Art’s shin.
Art, however, was already behind him, having casually spun around. His hand shot out, grabbing the boy by the wrist and twisting it behind his back. The boy gasped as pain shot through his arm.
“You guys sure you want to keep this up?” Art asked in a disturbingly calm tone.