To Negotiate, Or Not...

Ryuma sits cross-legged on the floor, resting his head and looking at the person in front of him. Which is the leader of the group of syndicates called Flameborn. The red attire is redder than most of his minions who are standing beside him. An old man in his forties, shaved his beard, but it wasn't clean enough as the sight of hair is still visible to Ryuma.

The fact that neither of the two parties didn't make any move for another 2 minutes because they were cautious. Cautious to not give the other party an advantage that may have bit their back in the end. Ryuma, thinking with his teeth grinding as he's looking at the old man.

(Now, how do I do this... If I went on brute force and fought them head-on, the receptionist girl might be caught in the fray... Which is why I can't just blast them all either...) 

Thinking Ryuma as he met the receptionist girl eye to eye. It seems they were being left alive to become their hostage when the moment was right. From Ryuma's experience, he's thinking hard enough to not let the bandit use that card ever.

"Hmm... So you've refused to sit on the chair, so you sit on the floor instead. Haha, you remind me of my rebellious childhood past..." The leader is the one who broke the silence. Since Ryuma decided to not listen to his words, he might be thinking of not dancing on the palm of his hands.

"If I were given the choice to sit on either the chair or the table, I'd rather pick the floor. Come on, me already sitting here is already in your favor. That's why you'd propose that chair for me, right?" Ryuma smirk a bit, but his mood isn't any different from before.

"Hmm... You're sharp and rude. But... I like that attitude! Nice to meet you, I'm the leader of the 'First Platoon of Flameborn, Vestine. I'm coming here, to this small town for one and one purpose only. To claim all 20 bounties- In other words, your very life." Vestine upon introducing himself and telling his reasons for coming to Melistown, looked at Ryuma's reaction.

There's no fear in his eyes, but a small fire of rage, which will burn bigger instantly if he were to take a wrong step. But, nothing about it doesn't concern it, since most of the conclusion is gonna break out to a fight.

"I really like the look of your eyes. Say it kid, won't you join Flameborn? I coulda pay you a huge sum if you join us-"

"No, no thanks..." Said Ryuma as he stared dagger at him. Knowing Vestine's attempt to leave this out without a fight has failed, he then sighed as he scratched his head.

"Haih~ Nothing can do about it..." With those words, Vestine proceeds to aim the cannon from his arm, but that cannon is not for Ryuma. Instead, it's for the receptionist girl and the female staff who's in behind the counter. Ryuma could hear the small gasp of fear from the counter, which made his gaze even sharper.

"Oh~ What a terrifying look~ Say, you really like violence don't you? With your ability, you coulda shape the world as you'll like, if you're lucky, you coulda take over the big boss's place and took the whole Flameborn by yourself." Ryuma, felt like Vestine, words were like some sort of third-rate scammer. But at the same time, he doesn't sense any lie in his tone.

"Ok, first thing, I smelled bullshit. Big Boss? C'mon bruh, if you wanna propose me the big position, why the hell do you go straight to Leader of Flameborn himself?"

"Because, it wasn't a lie... I sense it from you... White hair and crimson eyes... The same one as Big Boss himself."

"Wait, what?" The spark of words interested him, White hair and crimson eyes, is it someone from Ryuma's family? Who? Rukagi, his older brother? Or maybe Uruka, his older sister? The worst thing that comes to his mind is, Irumi, who is his kind father.

(I wanna said it's a two-face lookalike, but what if it's them? Is there someone else with white hair and red crimson eyes like me? Wait, why do I didn't think he was lying in the first place?) Vestine, looking at Ryuma who seemed in deep thought, laughed a little...

"Haha, from your reaction, you do not recognize your 'race' after all."

"Race? What are you talking about?"

"When I describe white hair and crimson eyes, do you think I meant of your family? No, it was in fact, probably not. But I've known about the same the about your race, which holds identical white hair and red, crimson eyes. And also, your birthmark."

(A birthmark...) Ryuma instinctively held his right chest when Vestine said that.

"So, you've known about the birthmark at least." The more Ryuma heard from Vestine, the more he felt like he was being wrapped right in his palm.

(Tch, he's almost got me there... What do I do?... Ask for more?) After giving it a deep thought, Ryuma finally comes to the conclusion.

(Yeah, let's not dig deeper.) Ryuma stands up as he's slowly approaching Vestine with his minions. Vestine who sees the Ryuma's eyes almost pulls the trigger towards the girl, but tries to threaten him at the same time.

"Oi oi oi~ I'm pointing the gun at your girl! Don't you care about what's gonna happen for them?!"

"Yeah... I'd like to see you try that..." From Ryuma's expression, Vestine knew that there wasn't any way to reason with Ryuma anymore. Moreover, the fact that he's still approaching even if the barrel were pointed at the hostage. Vestine immediately knew there wasn't any way to reason with Ryuma anymore. So he pointed his cannon at Ryuma instead.

"Well, I've tried... Get him, boys, ~" On command, Vestine's minions charged forward with the intent to collect Ryuma's head. Little did they know, the divine punishment instantly fell upon them when each of them gained a breaking bone or two in less than a minute. Vestine who witnessed how Ryuma fought felt no remorse to his ally, but he still gave the word of pity on them.

"Oof, that's ouchy..." As soon as Ryuma is done with the minion, he then gazes at Vestine as he tries to attack him.

"Now, your turn, old man-" And then, a sudden force hit Ryuma in the jaw. Made him spin backward as he fell on the floor on his front. Almost losing consciousness, Ryuma hits the floor as he's hurting his hand. To prevent himself from collapsing.