The face was unfamiliar, but the T-shirt covered in mysterious words was very familiar. Laura Bennett was momentarily puzzled, starting to doubt whether the English taught back home was even within his range of understanding.

"Ugh, it's still about George Walker." Faye Young frowned impatiently. "So annoying, if I'd known, I wouldn't have had dinner with you guys tonight."

Shaggy Hair No.1 fished a cigarette out of his pocket and stuck it in his mouth. Shaggy Hair No.2 lit it for him.

He bit the cigarette and nodded at Brian Clark, the cheap smoke swirling around his head, making it look like his hair was on fire.

"Are you Brian Clark?" Shaggy Hair No.3 asked. "Are you the one messing with Ray?"

Brian Clark stood where he was. "Ray, which one is that, the buzz cut or the long-haired one?"

So he used the same way to tell those two apart. Laura Bennett couldn't help but think, what a coincidence.

Shaggy Hair No.2 shouted, "Why do you care so much, just draw the line here today and settle what needs to be settled."

Brian Clark thought for a moment. "The buzz cut, I think?"

At that, Shaggy Hair No.1 squinted through the smoke. "Have you seen us at Yingzhong?"

Brian Clark replied coolly, "No. Just remembered that day it was always the long-haired one performing, so maybe the quiet one would be the one to retaliate later."

Laura Bennett suddenly had a flash of inspiration and blurted out, "A barking dog doesn't bite?"

"Exactly." Brian Clark was a bit impressed. "You even know that saying, not bad."

"Shit."

Shaggy Hair No.1 threw down his cigarette. "Where's the guy from Yongping Street?"

"Said he's almost here." Shaggy Hair No.2 impatiently kicked his right foot hard, as if there was a mangy dog clinging to his ankle that he was desperate to shake off—or maybe he just had a case of restless right foot.

"No more waiting, let's do this." Shaggy Hair No.1 stomped out the cigarette butt, rolled up his sleeves, revealing the solid muscles on his upper arm.

Laura Bennett was mentally sizing up these fierce-looking guys, wondering what level they were at and if they'd suddenly bust out some movie-style Chinese kung fu, when out of the corner of his eye he saw Brian Clark squat down and grab something from the ground—a roughly-shaped wooden plank.

Probably leftover construction material from some demolished old house, the board was full of splinters. Laura Bennett watched Brian Clark weigh it in his palm and suddenly felt a bit uneasy.

Maybe it wasn't even unease, just something hard to describe, the kind of feeling you couldn't even explain in English.

The three on the other side charged forward. Brian Clark grabbed one of them by the collar with his free hand, yanking him over from Laura Bennett's direction, while the hand holding the plank swung out, sending it spinning through the air with a whoosh before it landed with a dull thud on another guy's shoulder.

The plank fell to the ground and was picked up by Faye Young. Compared to his usual slouch, Faye Young was like a different person, his face full of aggression. He impatiently rolled his wrist, then suddenly swung his arm, the muscles on his lean arm bulging, like a character in Contra going berserk, unleashing a flurry of attacks with the plank.

Laura Bennett was a bit stunned—he never expected the Frenchie—no, Faye Young—to be like this when he wasn't slouching. It was kind of impressive.

Samuel Grant just kept yanking his arm, pulling him aside, trembling as he said, "These three are real street guys, holy shit, where did that buzz cut find these people?!"

Watching the fight, Laura Bennett felt like both sides were evenly matched, maybe even that their side had the upper hand—mainly because Faye Young was really good at fighting, and the more he fought, the fiercer he got, his speed and strength constantly breaking limits. However tired he usually was, that's how wild he was now.

"Did Faye Young learn some kind of martial art?"

"Yeah," Samuel Grant said, "He once said he's close to level seven in Sanda, a little dragon of the streets."

"..."

He didn't really understand, but it sounded pretty awesome.

Before long, Faye Young seized an opportunity, spinning around and sweeping Shaggy Hair No.2 off his feet, then smacking his calf hard with the plank. No.2 fell to the ground, clutching his leg and rolling in pain.

No.3 was also knocked down by Brian Clark, and No.1, panting heavily, took two steps back, glaring fiercely at Faye Young.

Laura Bennett suddenly felt something was off.

They hadn't gained the upper hand, but they weren't leaving either. Combined with what they'd said earlier, it was hard not to suspect they had backup coming.

Laura Bennett was hesitating about whether to tell Brian Clark and the others to run when he heard footsteps behind him.

The steps were unhurried, reluctant, not like someone rushing to a fight.

Laura Bennett turned around. The newcomer looked up, their eyes met, and both were momentarily stunned.

Samuel Grant exclaimed, "Holy shit, you're mixed up with them?!"

Eric Brooks.

Brian Clark and Faye Young were clearly surprised too. Brian Clark's hand holding the plank dropped, his brows furrowed as he stared at Eric Brooks.

It was the first time Laura Bennett had sensed such intense negative emotion in Brian Clark's eyes. Even yesterday in the staff restroom, he'd been calm, not like now—he looked calm, but beneath it was a suppressed ferocity.

"Go." Brian Clark pointed the tip of the plank at Eric Brooks. "Leave now, and I'll pretend I didn't see you."

Eric Brooks snapped out of his daze and let out a cold laugh. "Truly the paragons of Class Four."

"You're fucking Class Four too!" Samuel Grant shouted. "You haven't left yet!"

"I'm not Class Four." Eric Brooks's voice was very low. "Haven't been for a long time."