*[EXT. CITY ALLEY – EVENING / NIGHTFALL]*
*The orange glow of the sun fades behind city rooftops. Lord Modeus, freshly out of transmission with Varron, walks through a quieter, narrow alley heading back to his inn. He hums softly, still thinking of the spicy meat wrap he had earlier.*
*MODEUS (murmuring):*
*"If only boredom were edible... I'd never go hungry again."*
*Suddenly, shadows emerge from side passages. A group of *six rough-looking bandits*, cloaked in patchwork gear and wielding blunt weapons, circle him like vultures.*
*LEAD BANDIT (grinning):*
*"Well, well... pretty boy in royal black, all alone in a dark alley? Drop your gold. Now."*
*MODEUS (calmly):*
*"Ah. A classic mortal greeting. I assure you—I'm quite poor in your currency."*
*2ND BANDIT:*
*"Then maybe we just take your coat... and your pride."*
*Modeus raises his hands gently, almost like surrender.*
*MODEUS:*
*"I truly don't wish to harm you. Go find a tavern. Or therapy."*
*Suddenly, one of the bandits—young and impulsive—lunges with a wild punch. The blow lands squarely on Modeus's chest…*
*CRACK!*
*The attacker screams in *agonizing pain*, falling to the ground, clutching his shattered wrist like it struck iron.*
*MODEUS (blinking):**"You shouldn't have done that. I… really was negotiating."*
*The other bandits, now alarmed, unsheathe rusted daggers and curved blades.*
*LEAD BANDIT (shouting):*
*"Get him!!"*
*They charge. As their weapons near him—**
*SHINKK!* —they *shatter* into shards before even touching his body. The aura around Modeus flickers subtly, like an invisible barrier of dense gravity.*
*MODEUS (sighing):*
*"Tried mercy. I did. Truly I did."
(beat)
*"Now, allow me… reason enough."*
*With *blinding speed*, Modeus glides into action. His movement is a *deadly dance*, unfamiliar to any human fighting style. Like water striking stone, he redirects, twists, and *shatters their bones* with swift, deliberate palm strikes, leg sweeps, and counter-spins. The bandits drop one by one, crying out in pain, their limbs limp like broken dolls.*
*Silence. All six lie groaning on the ground.*
*Modeus adjusts his cloak calmly.*
*MODEUS (softly, almost wistful):*
*"It's been centuries since I used my fists… and this is the restraint version."*
(looks up)
*"Detectors can't catch what they can't explain."*
*He steps over the groaning pile of bandits and continues down the alley, fading into the lantern-lit mist.*