Past Relation

Before Max could comprehend or plan any action against the thugs along with the waitress, one of the thugs suddenly jumped and shot toward the woman without warning.

The moment Max noticed the thug, he, without hesitation, called out the gun from his space backpack and prepared to shoot. 

However, before he could take any action, someone else did. Someone he never expected.

Just as the thug reached the waitress, the lady didn't even flinch. On the other hand, she also shot toward the thug, making him stumble.

Her hand shot toward the thug and grabbed his face. She held him there and pressed him hard to the ground.

"Aagh!"

A scream erupted from the thug, his body slammed against the floor, his knees buckling, and the lady still pressing him down with raw force.

This situation made everyone present in the scene dumbfounded. They all stood frozen, shocked in their positions.

However, the waitress didn't even glance at anyone. She clenched her other fist, pulled back, and punched the thug.

Crunch.

A sickening crack echoed from the thug's face. Blood splattered from his nose and mouth as his head snapped back from the force. 

The lady hadn't held back her strength, which, for some unknown reason, was far more than that of a normal adult male.

The rest of the thugs, after a brief moment of shock, snapped into rage. Their faces turned red from the sudden adrenaline burst. 

With roars of anger building in their throats, they swung their knives at the woman. But before any of them could strike her, she swiftly pulled back, and in the next second, her hand grabbed the arm of the closest thug.

The lady yanked the thug and punched him hard in the abdomen, making him buckle instantly.

"Aargh!"

The thug vomited on the floor and kneeled down, clutching his stomach. The last thug was speechless. He stammered, stepping back from the shock.

He swallowed hard, but still clung to his belief in his own strength. The adrenaline was still pumping in his blood. 

He didn't want to back off even after watching two of his teammates get knocked out effortlessly.

He licked his lips and raised his knife, pointing it at the waitress. He glared at her while circling around, trying to get a better angle.

"Back off or I'll kill you!" he roared at the waitress, his eyes bloodshot.

Whenever the woman stepped near him, he swung the knife wildly, making her pause and stay cautious.

Gradually, he moved toward his partner still on the floor, clutching his stomach after the blow. While keeping his eyes locked on the woman, he reached out and placed an arm around his partner's shoulder, giving him support.

Cough.

His partner on the floor coughed violently over the bile he'd thrown up earlier. He swiped his mouth and, with the support, tried to stand up.

 However, this slight motion distracted both thugs just enough—

The waitress ran toward them, grabbed both their collars, and with a grunt and a sharp snort from her nose, she pulled them up and hurled them over her shoulder.

Boom!

With a thunderous crash, both thugs slammed to the ground. Groans and whining noises escaped from their lips.

 It was evident something had cracked or dislocated during the impact.

The waitress heaved a sigh and rolled her neck, as if this entire confrontation had just been some heavy lifting chore for her.

Max, watching everything from the side, stood there with eyes wide open, unable to comprehend what had just happened. 

His gun still aimed at the thugs, now unconscious on the ground.

The waitress turned around and noticed him with his gun still drawn. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest, glaring.

She gestured with her chin, "Well?"

Max stammered when his eyes met hers. He noticed her glancing at his weapon.

 "Hahaha... this is... just... umm—" he awkwardly pulled the weapon back and, under the cover of his blazer, pocketed it into his space backpack.

"So, ummm..." he tried to find the right words, but this situation was completely unexpected, even for him. 

Who could've thought the lean and beautiful waitress he met could possess such raw strength in her body?

He glanced at her, up and down, but still found no words.

"You haven't changed at all, Max."

He heard the waitress speak. She knew him. And even his name.

"How?... Who are you?" he stammered, stepping back slightly.

"Hmph. You still don't remember me!" the waitress flared, flashing her big eyes wide open.

"Who are you?" Max asked again, this time seriously, his brows furrowing.

The waitress snorted.

"Same grade. Same school. Midtown High," she responded. 

"Well, you were always after those sexy cheerleaders... why would you notice anyone else?" she added under her breath.

Her voice was low, but Max still heard her clearly, each word echoing in his ears.

'Did we both went to school together?'

His brain started working in overdrive, sifting through his old memories from Max's school life. 

But all he could recall were limited events, mostly playing around with friends or spending time with girlfriends. His memories were too scattered.

His brows furrowed harder as he tried to remember but nothing came to mind.

"Humph," he heard the waitress snort again. "Still don't remember. You're hopeless as always. Couldn't even remember your classmate."

Max could only awkwardly scratch the back of his head. He still didn't know who this gorgeous woman standing before him was. 

And most importantly, he couldn't figure out how Max…his younger self could have ever forgotten such a woman.

"Sorry I don't remember... but seriously, who are you? You seem familiar but..." he pressed his lips together and, feeling a bit ashamed, admitted, "I don't know." He murmured softly.

The waitress looked like she was about to flare up again but then sighed.

She raised her hand for a handshake. "I'm Jessica Jones."

"What? Who?" Max asked, dumbfounded.

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