Xavier wiped the blood off his knuckles with a napkin he grabbed from the bar, totally unbothered, and turned toward the top manager with that smug half-smile tugging at his lips.
"Yeah, I'll explain," he said, voice smooth, not a hint of guilt in it. "I was sitting here, drinking, minding my own business. One of these lizards bumps into me. Twice. The first time I let it slide. The second time, I give him a tap back. Call it even. But instead of walking off, they came at me with a dozen fists. What was I supposed to do? Sit here and let them chew my face off?"
He gestured around at the wreckage. "All this? Their doing. I'm just one guy. They're a squad of overgrown geckos. Do the math."
The lizards hissed, clutching their bruised faces, but before they could shout back, two bouncers stepped in. "He's telling the truth," one said firmly. "The second wave, they rushed him. He only defended himself."
