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Chapter 36 - Chapter 35— The Art of Fair Robbery

On the other hand, the thugs hesitated. They didn't understand why, but something about the man in front of them felt wrong — it was as if a predator had just walked into their den wearing a human face.

Michael tilted his head, his eyes calm, focused — almost bored.

[Host, the temporary buffs slightly alter your aura. To them, you feel… unnatural. A little terrifying, actually.]

Whoa, that's gonna make this a lot more fun.

Then a stun gun appeared in Michael's hand — one he had bought long ago, just for a situation like this.

BZZZT.

Michael moved quickly toward Knife Guy first — because he was the only one with a blade.

Before the man could even react, Michael pressed the stun gun to his chest and pulled the trigger.

The shock hit instantly. His entire body jerked like a fish on a dock before he collapsed, twitching.

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[Target defeated.]

25 EXP

1 Combat Proficiency (Unarmed)

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Silence.

Tattoo Guy blinked. "What the hell—?"

Michael kicked his knee sideways. The man howled, crumpling into a pile of garbage.

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[Target incapacitated.]

15 EXP

Ligament damage detected on enemy.

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The third man raised his hands. "Dude, I was just here for moral support!"

Michael grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. "Support this."

He then drove his knee into the man's stomach — hard enough to drop him, but not kill him. The thug wheezed, sliding down the wall like a sack of potatoes.

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[Target neutralized.]

+10 EXP

Not dead

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[Host, you seem to enjoy unnecessary violence.]

"Nah," he muttered. "Just cleaning up trash."

The alley went quiet except for the sound of pained groans and distant city noise.

Michael looked around at the mess — three bodies on the ground, one of them trying not to throw up.

He then turned toward the girl.

"Alright," he said flatly, "let's settle accounts."

The girl flinched as his gaze met hers. She sat on a broken crate, her fingers clutching the coin pouch so tightly her knuckles were white.

"Please don't hurt me! Here—take your money back." She tossed it toward him.

Michael caught the pouch.

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[Mini-Task Completed]

Recover Stolen Property – Success

Rewards Granted:

→ +200 EXP

+1 Reputation

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[Congratulations! You level Up]

[You are now level 4]

[EXP: 1150 / 1500]

Great. I am in luck

Michael looked back at the girl, his expression hardening.

"It's not enough," he said quietly. "Now, I want everything you stole today."

"What?! That's not fair!"

Michael crouched, his face inches from hers. "Sweetheart, you picked the wrong mark. That's like trying to mug a bear wearing body armor."

Grumbling, she tossed him another pouch.

Michael caught it — then suddenly, another translucent blue panel flickered in his vision.

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[Streetwise Instinct (F) – Passive]

Detects deceit.

Target is still concealing 1 hidden pouch.

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He sighed and turned his gaze back to the girl.

"You really think I'm that easy to fool?"

The girl's shoulders tensed. Her lips trembled.

Michael crouched again, slower this time, picking up one of the fallen thugs' knives from the dirt. He ran his thumb along the dull edge, not looking at her, letting the metallic scrape fill the silence. Then, with deliberate calm, he pointed the blade toward her chest.

"Let's try this again," he said. "Where's the rest?"

The girl's face went pale. "I-I don't—"

Michael tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "Don't lie. My patience is expensive. This is your last chance — if a rat like you drops dead here, nobody's going to care. You understand what I mean, right?"

"Please! Okay, okay! Just don't hurt me!" she sobbed, pulling out a pouch hidden under her skirt. Her hands trembled as she held it out, silently cursing her luck for pickpocketing this lunatic.

Michael hated thieves. Hated the feeling of someone's hand reaching for what was his. Especially his money.

This wasn't cruelty, he told himself. This was a warning.

And for their sake, they'd better remember it.

Michael took it and checked the weight. A slow, grim smile spread across his face — not joy, but satisfaction.

He then pulled out a cheap pen from his pocket — one he'd bought back on Earth for a single dollar.

He tossed it at the girl's feet.

The girl blinked in confusion.

"Pick it up," Michael said evenly. "I'm giving you this in exchange for the money I took from you. It's a trade, understand?"

"A… trade?"

"Yeah, I'm not a thief. So, in exchange, I'm giving you something back. It's a trade. You could say it's… valuable where I'm from."

The girl just stared at him, speechless. He'd taken everything she owned — and now he was acting like some honest merchant. This lunatic…

"Now pick it up quickly, and say I accept the trade," Michael said coldly.

She didn't understand, but fear made her obey. Slowly, she bent down and picked it up, her fingers trembling. "O-okay… I accept."

A faint chime echoed in Michael's head as soon as she said it.

[Transaction Complete.]

[You have received: 56 copper, 34 silver, 2 gold]

[Currency converted automatically]

[Mission Progress: 370.12 / 1000 silver]

A thin smile crossed his lips. Technically, it was free money. Maybe his luck was finally turning.

Then Michael's eyes caught movement — the tattooed thug, groaning as he tried to crawl out of the heap of garbage he'd crashed into. The man's face was smeared with mud, his pride more broken than his body.

Michael took a slow step toward him, his gaze dropping to the glint of silver dangling from the thug's ear.

"Nice earrings," Michael said, his tone casual — almost friendly — but the look in his eyes made the man freeze halfway to his feet.

The man winced. "They're from my mom."

"They're ugly. Hand them over."

The thug hesitated, then, seeing Michael's look, unclipped them with shaking fingers and placed them in his palm.

"Yeah, good boy," Michael said with a mocking grin. "Good boy."

Michael pocketed them with an evil smile, which made the thugs even more scared.

The knife guy, still groaning on the ground, muttered, "You're… a monster…"

"And you're a terrible criminal. If you're gonna steal, at least be good at it."

He took a few steps toward the mouth of the alley, then stopped. Turning slightly, he flashed the stun gun — its faint electric hum cutting through the silence.

"Oh, and if you do something like that again, I'll sell your organs."

With that, Michael turned away, walking out of the alley as if nothing had happened.

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