Some time later, the floor of the boxing gym was littered with groaning, weakly moving bodies. The air was heavy with the stench of blood.
Sunny studied his bruised knuckles for a moment, then pushed a finger through a long cut on the side of his jacket and let out an irritated sigh.
"Now I'm going to be wet from the damn rain. Great."
He took off the jacket, revealing his arms — and the scales of the black serpent coiling around them.
If Effie was surprised to see a gang tattoo on the skin of her partner — one much more grand and vast than the ones covering the groaning thugs, no less — she did not show it. Instead, she rummaged around the table where the Black Snakes had been playing cards with a focused expression. Ignoring the alcohol and the piles of money, she picked up a bag of potato chips and smiled in satisfaction.
Sending one into her mouth, she asked with curiosity:
"Not to be a stickler for the rules, but haven't we broken at least a dozen laws just now?"
