He wasn't a hero. Never claimed to be. People got mugged, assaulted, or worse every day in every city.
It wasn't really his problem.
Let the adventurers or the cops handle it.
But... 90 cents on his wallet.
His mind flashed to the bandits he hunted in the past—back when money was tight.
Rob the robbers. Easy money, no guilt.
If there were thugs in that alley shaking down some poor soul, they probably had wallets fatter than his.
And if not? Well, he could always walk away.
"I guess it's her lucky day," he said to himself, he let out a small smile within his lips.
In the alley way between the bakery and a bookstore...
It was the kind of a place where bad things happened quietly.
The scene unfolded about forty meters in: four rough-looking guys, single girl eating bread in her mouth in hoodies and jeans.
Bandit 1, a wiry man with a scarred face and red eyes, had his hand pinned the woman against the brick wall.
His dagger pressed just under her chin. "Come on, lady, hand over the jewelry,"
He snarled, his voice low and raspy. "Make it easy, and we won't—"
"Stop..." Marie's voice cracked begging for a plea.
Bandit's 1 hand clamped over her mouth, shutting her mouth mid-word. "Don't you dare resist!" He yelled.
He drove the dagger into her left wrist, while pinning her hand to the wall behind her.
The blade sank in with a sickening thunk, blood welling up immediately around the wound.
Marie's eyes widened in agony, as pain shot through her arm.
"Mmmmh—" she whimpered through his hand, tears falling down her cheeks and her palm dripping blood slowly onto the ground.
Bandit 3, had a smirking grin on his face, he has patchy beard.
He leaned against a nearby crate, watching the scene unfold with amusement while a massive axe leaned against his shoulder.
Bandit 4, guy with hoodie was the tallest of the group, his hoodie zipped up to hide the necklace he has stolen long ago amplified with water magic.
"Hey, hey, relax, dude," he said, chuckling lazily.
"You're hurting her. We want her stuff, not a corpse. Boss will chew us out if we bring back damaged goods."
Bandit 5, short guy, nodded in agreement, his arms crossed as he leaned casually against the opposite wall.
His green eyes stoic, poisonous dagger hung loosely from his belt, its blade coated in a greenish sheen that promised a slow, agonizing death.
"We're not here to mess." He muttered.
The only woman in the group, Bandit 6 sat perched on a overturned trash bin a few feet away, munching on a loaf of bread.
Her bow slung across her back, she watched the assault with boredom.
She was the youngest out of the group, with sharp features and a quiver of fire-enchanted arrows at her hip, her eyes held the cold indifference of someone who'd seen too much violence to care.
Bandit 2, the leader—stood a bit apart, his hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword.
He was the most composed of them—tall, broad-shouldered, with a shaved head and a scar down his cheek.
His voice cut through the air like ice, cold and serious. "You better hurry," he said, glancing toward the alley's entrance.
"We don't have time all day. Cops or some adventurer could show up any second."
Bandit 1, yanked the dagger free from Marie's wrist, letting out another muffled cry from her.
Blood poured freely now, soaking her sleeve and pooling at her feet.
"Okay, okay—" he started, wiping the blade on his pants, his voice laced with irritation.
But before he could finish, his words cut off abruptly.
Limbs separated from torso in a fatality display—arms, legs, head—all dismembered in an instant.
Blood spraying as his remains crumpled to the ground in wet.
The other bandits froze, horror dawning on their faces.
"Ansel!!" Bandit 5 with the green eyes shouted, his composure shattering as he rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside the mangled corpse.
"Who did it?! Show your face!" He yelled as his eyes dart around at the alley way entrance.
Suddenly, a voice echoed through the alley—cold, measured, and carrying an unnatural weight.
It wasn't loud, but it resonated like thunder in their bones, pressing down on them with an invisible force.
The gravity around them intensified rapidly, making their knees buckle and their breaths come in gasping.
They stumbled, fighting to stay upright as the air grew heavy.
"Yo. How we doin?" His casual greetings.
The voice belonged to Loki, who emerged from the shadows at the alley's entrance.
He approached slowly, hands in his pockets, completely unarmed.
His dark jacket hung loosely, his bright blue eyes scanning the scene with mild disinterest, as if he'd stumbled upon a minor inconvenience rather than a violent mugging.
Bandit 5 struggling against the crushing pressure, managed to pull his poisonous dagger free, gripping it tightly between his trembling wrists.
"Who the hell are you!?" he demanded, his voice strained, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he fought to stand.
Bandit 6, still had a bread on her mouth munching, reached out for her bow, charging three fire-enchanted arrows.
She pointed it at the mysterious intruder, the bread dangling comically from her lips as she mumbled something incoherent and does not make sense.
Bandit 4, recovering faster than the others, raised his gun—a sleek pistol infused with water magic, its barrel glowing faintly blue.
"You can't beat us—you don't even have a weapon!" he barked, pointing the gun directly at Loki's chest.
Bandit 2, unsheathed his sword with a metallic shing sound, holding it in a ready stance.
His arrogant, cold tone cut through the tension.
"Hmm..." He glances at Loki's appearance.
"He's not an adventurer huh? This will be easy." he sneered, though a flicker of unease crossed his nerves.
Loki stopped mid-walk, his expression unchanging. One hand resting on his pocket.
"We'll see about that." he replied evenly, his voice devoid of emotion.