It was nearing nightfall, and the sky's brightness had dulled above the heart of the 11th Hamlet, where mayhem brewed.
Two groups, one consisting entirely of burly-looking men and the other of five women and two handsome youths, stood in a standoff.
Surrounding them were the curious people of the Hamlet.
"What is happening?"
"Why are the gang members aggressive towards their colleagues?"
"Wait those faces look very new? Could it be they are not actually colleagues?"
"Isn't that Jordana and her friends? Why are they with those two?"
"I don't understand what the heck is happening!"
The curious people whispered among themselves in confusion. Most already deemed Ragnar and Noah as part of the gang, only a few forced themselves to believe the two were some kind of saviors.
"Are you guys deaf?" one of the gang members barked at the top of his lungs. "Did you not hear my questions?"
"Of course we heard your question, fucktard," Ragnar finally responded with a cheeky grin.
