Shou stood near the shattered vending machine, hands buried in his pockets, posture relaxed as if he was simply waiting for a bus instead of standing in the middle of a gang brawl.
His eyes half-lidded, his expression empty, the same unreadable look he always carried whether he was watching a movie, eating ramen, or listening to Seijirou's lectures about keeping a low profile.
But behind that lazy façade, his body moved with frightening sharpness, every twitch precise, every motion efficient and controlled.
A Hunter with a metal pipe came at him first, roaring as he swung.
Shou leaned sideways with the smallest movement, the pipe slicing through the air where his head had been a heartbeat earlier.
Without pulling his hands from his pockets, he raised one knee, driving it into the man's gut so hard that the air left his lungs in a single pained wheeze.
The man dropped to the floor, clutching his stomach and gasping.
Shou sighed softly. "You all make too much noise."
