Up on the second floor of Sunset Mall's parking structure, a bunch of thug-looking men were hanging about. Some leaned on the many pillars filling up the floor. Some sat on the floor. Some were watching the scene outside the open walls.
One group was sitting around each other, chatting.
"Is it true that we are called here just to stop one person from going up this parking structure?"
"Not any person. The one we are supposed to stop is the mad demon."
"Who the fuck is the mad demon?"
"You don't know about the mad demon? Did you just immigrate to this city? Or did you just recently join the underworld syndicates?"
"The mad demon is a legend from the previous generation. The old members of my crew said that the mad demon was the sole reason for the disbandment of the Zeron Family."
"Sole reason? By sole, do you mean one person…?"
"Yes."
"That is surely just bulls, isn't it?"
"I don't know. It was what the old members told me. Whenever those old dudes are talking about this Harrison fellow, I swear it was like they were talking about the world president or something."
"Well. Now that you mentioned it, I just realized I don't see any old members joining this operation."
"Nah, those old dudes are just lazy fucks who are past their primes. They no longer have the energy to do anything. They just want to laze around in the hideouts all day and do nothing. Forget about them. When we return with the tale about us battering the shit out of this mad demon, we can laugh at them to their faces."
"By the way, how long do we have to wait?"
"Probably till afternoon, because I don't think this Harrison dude is coming. Even if he comes, once he sees our number, he will most likely bolt."
"Hey, what is that sound?"
"What sound?"
They were quiet after that, trying to listen to whatever sound the other guy was indicating. They couldn't hear anything. They thought the other guy must be imagining things. When they were about to scold that other guy, they heard it.
It was the sound of people shouting. The voices were getting louder. Whatever the commotion was, it was getting nearer.
"It was from the first floor," One person said.
"Maybe our target has arrived," another said. He then shouted at the guys who stood leaning on the railing, "Hey! Has this Harrison fellow arrived?"
The guy leaning on the railing was chatting with his friends. He looked outside before looking back and shrugging. They all thought gathering here to deal with one person was a joke. Nobody took this task seriously.
The loud voices diminished until they stopped altogether.
"Huh? It stops?" One person asked.
"Let me go check," Another responded. He stood and went to the ramp that connected the first and the second floors.
Arriving there, he showed a surprised expression.
"Hey! Who do you think–"
He didn't finish his sentence because a helmet flew from where he was looking and smashed into his head. The helmet bounced off while he staggered back. Someone rushed up and caught the helmet that was still in the air. This person also kicked the staggering guy. The staggering guy flew straight into the railing from the kick. When he crashed into the railing, the momentum was strong enough to cause him to pivot on the railing, and he fell outside. He was screaming as he fell to the ground, which was one floor below.
"What the…!" Everyone on the second floor became tense at once. Those who were on the floor stood up.
The one who had charged from the first floor looked like a middle-aged man, an extremely fit middle-aged man. The man was tall, and he had a body like a world-championship bodybuilder. His face was covered with a thick beard. His left arm was covered by a jumbled leather jacket.
"Who are you?!" One of the thugs on the second floor asked.
"Harrison Maxhall," the fit, middle-aged man answered.
Harrison Maxhall? Wasn't that the name of their target? They couldn't believe this man truly came, and alone? But most surprisingly, he barged through the first floor and arrived here. What did all those clowns on the first floor do? They were not given the chance to think for long because Harrison charged at them.
One of the thugs with a better response came forward to confront Harrison. Harrison threw the helmet again. This time, the helmet failed to strike its target. The thug lifted his arm to defend. The helmet struck his arm. The helmet cracked from the impact, and so did the bone inside his arm.
Before he knew it, Harrison had arrived before him. Harrison's fist slammed into his belly. He doubled over from the punch. He vomited some contents in his stomach as he fell to his knees. He could not get up anymore.
This scene finally riled everyone to action. Yelling and shouting were uttered as they charged forward. Everyone was shouting something that nobody could understand. The voices were all jumbled into one incoherent ruckus.
While the voices reflected the disorder, what was happening was not far off. Everyone tried to get to this Harrison person. All they saw was people brawling ahead. Some flew away occasionally. As they got nearer, they watched in disbelief as their friends keeled over from just one or two punches from this Harrison fellow, and this Harrison fellow was fast!
None of their friends could land a clean hit. One by one, their friends collapsed to the ground. While they were still baffled by what they were witnessing, Harrison's fist came to their faces. They then blacked out.
All the thugs on this second floor were told to bring no weapons. Most complied. But considering they were thugs, they were not exactly a paragon of obedience. Some hid metal sticks under their shirts for weapons. They never thought they needed these sticks for their current task. But here they were, pulling those metal sticks out as they charged toward Harrison.
Harrison blocked the incoming blows from the metal sticks using his left arm, which was covered by his leather jacket. The thick leather bundle softened the hard blows by a great deal. Harrison hardly felt the impact. He then crouched and gave these thugs with the metal sticks a sweeping kick, causing all of them to fall to the ground. Half of these thugs lost their grip on the metal sticks as they fell.
Harrison picked up one of the dropped metal sticks and grinned. "Thanks for the weapon," he said.