Its Called an Uppercut!

Artis sighed dramatically, shaking his head like an exasperated saint overlooking a horde of sinners.

"I would have asked you to apologize to Lily for everything you've said to her like a responsible patron..."

He smiled. It was a benevolent smile. The kind of smile an emperor might wear before ordering an entire bloodline to be wiped from existence.

"...But then again, I'm not here for that."

The air shifted.

The workers blinked, their beer-addled minds processing the change in atmosphere.

Artis' lips curled into something softer. Something that had no right being so damn condescending and smug at the same time.

"I'm here to show her…" He took a slow, deliberate step forward. "How a real man protects his girl."

For a moment, there was silence. The workers blinked. Processed.

Then—

Laughter.

Raucous, gut-busting, tear-inducing laughter.