"Come on." He opened his arms, as if offering his own chest. "Show this world how disgusting you are."
The first blow came quickly: the nearest drunk lunged forward with a clumsy punch. Strax leaned slightly to the side, and the fist passed through the air. Before the man could recover, Strax simply raised his knee. The impact was sharp, hitting the man's stomach with enough force to double him over and spit out the last of the drink he still had.
The second came right behind, brandishing a broken bottle. Strax didn't dodge—he simply caught the man's arm in a single motion and twisted it. The crack of bone echoed through the street, followed by a sharp scream. The bottle fell to the ground, shattering.
The last two hesitated, but shame drove them on. They advanced together, one with a piece of wood, the other with raised fists.
Strax smiled.
