Alistair lowered his body, one hand resting on his thigh, the other in his pocket. His voice was calm, as if he were merely remarking that he had eaten a piece of toast that morning.
The biker gang leader under his foot couldn't see it, but everyone else present saw the tattoos covering Alistair's body clearly. They didn't know what these specific tattoos meant, only that anyone with that many tattoos had to be a Major League Boss. Dealing with them would be as easy as drying off after a shower—it would only take a little time.
[Orochi's Sun Tattoo (KOF): A tattoo that can be concealed and revealed at any time. No special effect. Item Class.]
[Izumi Miyamura's-Style Tattoo (Horimiya): A tattoo that can be concealed and revealed at any time. No special effect. Item Class.]
These were the items Alistair had acquired by using the "Acquire" ability on the air this morning. He initially thought they were useless, but now they were perfect for showing off his status.
In the local gang world, tattoos are a symbol of status and are not inked randomly. Tattoo artists know this; only people within the inner circle of the gangs are allowed to get them. Anything else is either self-made or a sticker.
Oh, and this rule doesn't apply to women. Female tattoos are unrestricted, which is why most tattoo artists' income primarily comes from women.
These were some of the unwritten rules of the local underworld that Alistair knew. So, he activated both item-class tattoos, revealing a full-body display that instantly froze the thugs in terror.
"Hey! Someone come help! Bastards!"
The biker leader, pinned by Alistair's foot, strained to move Alistair's leg, but he couldn't move at all. He stammered for others to help him. After waiting for a long time and receiving no help, only the sole of a shoe remaining pressed on his face, he shouted in annoyance.
"Hey! You guys! I'll have someone cripple you later!"
Heh!
Alistair chuckled, lifted his foot, drew his leg back, and then, BAM!
The swift, powerful kick sent the gangster flying like a banana peel, launching his large body several meters away.
He finally stopped after hitting his motorcycle, rolling for another meter or two. He was unconscious, only groaning involuntarily.
The area fell into absolute silence. The only sound was Alistair's footsteps as he slowly approached the unconscious gangster.
Step. Step. Step. Step...
Each step Alistair took sounded like a death knell to them. They dared not speak or move.
The Red-Haired Girl looked left and right, wanting to leave but too afraid to move. She remained in her position, forcing a stiff smile as Alistair approached.
The Red-Haired Girl wore a red strap dress that was too revealing, looking more like lingerie. She was audacious to wear it in public. As Alistair got closer, he saw the collarbone tattoo was a rose. Following her collarbone down, he could vaguely see bulging veins on her melon-like pair of soft tits. The red straps covered a sheer black stocking... or rather, high-socks—thigh-high stockings—making Alistair eager to feel them with his hands.
The Red-Haired Girl instantly trembled as Alistair reached out to stroke her thigh, but she didn't dare say anything. She sat obediently on the motorcycle's backseat, allowing Alistair to caress her, and even pushed out her two melon-like tits, causing waves of flesh to ripple. This instantly captivated the surrounding punks, who wished their gaze could burn her clothes off to witness the beautiful sight. Yet, no matter how she jiggled, the dress perfectly covered the vital spots while exposing most of the northern hemisphere, prompting countless swallowing sounds from the crowd.
Tsk—Girls wearing swimsuits, which are almost identical to underwear, are rarely considered sluts. Why is it that when she wears this, which reveals even less than a swimsuit, people instinctively label her a slut?
Alistair mused on the complexity of human judgment while leaning down to sniff the two melons.
Hmm~ No strange odors. On the contrary, there's a scent of shower gel. Excellent. A high-quality slut. She must be a very delicious ingredient.
Alistair straightened up and reached out to stroke the Red-Haired Girl's face. Very nice. Alistair observed that her face looked quite young. Loli body with giant tits? Or is she genuinely young with huge tits?
Alistair didn't care either way. In his eyes, someone like her, even if she hadn't been used by many people, could only serve as a Cum Rag. He would decide the specifics later. For now, Alistair planned for the Red-Haired Girl to become his Cum Rag. He'd need to vet her, though. If she'd been heavily used, he'd play with her and discard her. If she was relatively untouched, he could keep her as an exclusive Cum Rag. He wouldn't lack the money to maintain a toy.
"You are my spoils of war now, understand, little slut?" Alistair's hand slid from her face to her chin. He lightly pinched it, pulled her face down slightly, and whispered hotly into her ear.
The Red-Haired Girl nodded frantically, terrified that Alistair would slap her if she disagreed. He had moved without any warning and had just crippled the biker leader.
She had only recently started hooking up with this biker guy. She intended to show off a little, then boast at school to elevate her status. She never expected to become Alistair's war prize.
"Alright, now, this woman and this motorcycle belong to me. I've stated my case. Does anyone here approve? Does anyone oppose?"
Alistair lifted his chin slightly, looked at the strangely dressed punks around him, and crossed his arms, adopting the demeanor of a major boss.
The punks looked at each other, nodded in unison, and shouted loudly:
"We wholeheartedly approve of your decision, Boss!"
Alistair nodded in satisfaction. He casually kicked the unconscious biker leader lying in the way, retrieved his inner shirt from the leather jacket guy, straddled the motorcycle, and told the Red-Haired Girl, "Hold on tight. Press closer."
Alistair wasn't concerned for the Red-Haired Girl's safety; he just wanted to feel the pair of melons pressed against his back.
The Red-Haired Girl obediently wrapped her arms around Alistair's waist, pressing her two soft mounds against his back, turning the fleshy spheres into fleshy pancakes.
VROOOM!
Alistair started the motorcycle, ready to leave, when a familiar figure in his peripheral vision made him suddenly remember his original purpose.
I was here to watch the drama, realized the one being beaten was Jiro Morita, my woman Mina's brother, and intended to take him with me. So, how did things end up like this?
Alistair looked at the punks standing respectfully around them and Jiro Morita and his friends lying on the ground, afraid to move. He fell into contemplation.