The Rusty Cup had always been a rowdy place, and it got even louder when someone brought a fight to the gangsters who made it their base. Fights among gangs weren't unusual, so it was only a matter of time before things quieted down, and they did. Then, the entire shop exploded.
A gorilla-like abomination emerged from the flames, catching the ledge of a window on the opposite side of the street and hanging from it. On his shoulder was a man whose head looked like the skull of a charred corpse.
"Fucking brat…" Harry ground his teeth. "I GAVE YOU A WARNING!"
"BLA BLA BLA! Don't you get tired of talking!?"
From the rising smoke, a red-haired youth jumped high, dragging a black trail behind him. His hands snapped forward, and a pair of pistols roared. The bullets struck the building like cannonballs, their target having launched himself high in the air.
"Then we're done talking!"
