The two walked through the narrow, winding streets of the territory, the silence between them broken only by the occasional spark of Théodore's cigarette. After a while, the customer glanced at him suspiciously.
"Are you really a detective?"
Théodore smirked. "Uhm... maybe something more, probably?"
The man looked more confused than ever. Before he could ask again, they reached the turf claimed by The Baghas. Several rough-looking gang members were lounging around in the open area—some leaning on walls, others playing dice on a crate.
The moment they saw Théodore and the customer approach, a few stood up, narrowing their eyes.
"Hey!" one of them barked. "What the hell are you two doing in our area?"
Théodore,put a on his lips and after the Baghas came the cigarette was still calmly hanging from his lips, raised his hand and flicked his index finger—a simple, almost playful gesture of dismissal. His sarcasm was dripping, and the gang didn't take it kindly.
"You trying to act smart?" one of them snarled and lunged forward.
Théodore didn't even flinch. As the man charged, Théodore sidestepped and landed a clean kick into the man's stomach, sending him crashing back into a stack of crates. The customer beside him stood frozen, wide-eyed.
Another five gang members surged forward. Théodore exhaled a puff of smoke and, with surprising agility, ducked beneath a punch, sidestepped another, and weaved through them effortlessly. He moved like water—calm but deadly.
In a flash, he got behind one of them and shoved him hard into the others. The domino effect knocked all of them down in a pile of limbs and curses.
The brief silence that followed was broken by a metallic click.
The gang leader had stepped out of the shadows, a polished revolver aimed at Théodore. The mood shifted instantly.
Théodore removed the cigarette from his mouth, flicked it to the ground, and stepped on it. He stared at the gun for a moment, then tilted his head curiously.
"You've got enough bullets in that thing, right?"
The gang leader frowned. "Yes?"
Théodore's smile returned—but this time, it wasn't playful. It was calculating.
"Good. Because you'll need every single one of them."