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Chapter_184
The scene in the bar had gone from tense to surreal in a matter of moments. The atmosphere, charged with anticipation and fear, seemed to crackle as Yvette stood alone, unfazed, while the men of Tiger Head, led by Burley and Dorion, positioned themselves for what they expected to be a swift and decisive confrontation.
As Yvette stood up calmly, her movements smooth and deliberate, the onlookers couldn’t help but marvel at her cool demeanor. The thugs of Tiger Head, notorious for their ruthlessness, had expected her to cower in fear, but instead, she appeared to be savoring the moment. She placed a black cap on her head, tucked her hands into her pockets, and smirked, as if the idea of facing down such a group of enemies was little more than an amusing distraction.
The tension was palpable, with everyone holding their breath, waiting for the first strike. One of Burley’s men lunged forward, eager to subdue the woman who had dared to challenge Tiger Head. But before he could even reach her, a sudden force threw him back, his body crashing to the ground, blood spitting from his mouth in a violent cough. The crowd gasped in shock. There was no fight, no struggle. Just a single, effortless gesture from Yvette—and already there was blood on the floor.
Dorion’s face darkened, his mind racing as he processed what had just happened. He observed Yvette more closely now, sensing the raw power radiating from her, a power he hadn’t expected. She was no ordinary opponent, and though he was a seasoned strategist, he realized that even if he threw everything he had at her, victory was far from certain. What he didn’t know was that Yvette had only used a fraction of her power—twenty percent, to be exact.
Yvette, on the other hand, was calm, almost lazy, as if bored by the whole situation. She let her energy retract, allowing her surroundings to return to a state of relative stillness. Her eyes half-closed as she surveyed the scene with a hint of amusement, considering the potential thrill of what was about to unfold.
Burley, seeing his man injured and realizing that the situation was slipping out of his control, growled in frustration. He shouted for the rest of his men to attack, but nobody moved. All eyes turned to Dorion, waiting for his command.
The tension between Burley and Dorion was clear. Burley’s face was red with fury, but his long-standing respect for Dorion, tempered by the loyalty of Tiger Head’s men, kept him from challenging Dorion directly. They both knew that the outcome of this situation would determine the future of their gang.
Dorion finally stepped forward, his expression cold and calculating. He locked eyes with Yvette, his voice thick with menace. “May I ask which group you belong to, miss? Has Tiger Head wronged you in some way? You claim to have killed Eban, and if that’s true, we won’t rest until we make this right.”
Yvette didn’t even flinch at his words. She tilted her head slightly, a mischievous glint flashing in her eyes. The arrogance of her silence seemed to confirm their suspicion that she had no proof. The crowd, eager for any sign of weakness, began to murmur, believing that Yvette’s claim was just another baseless boast.
Then, with a sly smile, Yvette broke the silence. “You want proof?” she asked, her voice almost lazy. “Eban lost his penis.”
The crowd froze. For a long moment, nobody spoke. The silence stretched, and then, as if on cue, the room exploded with gasps, laughter, and nervous whispers. The brutal truth of her words slowly sank in, and the shock of it spread like wildfire among the onlookers.
Burley’s face turned pale. The memory of his brother Eban’s brutal murder flashed in his mind, and the gruesome details of the body he had seen—especially the horrific mutilation of Eban’s genitals—came rushing back. Was this woman really the one who had killed Eban? Did she know the secrets of the drug lab too? Burley felt a cold sweat break out on his brow. If she knew the lab’s secrets, they were in deep trouble. They couldn’t afford to let her live.
In a panic, Burley turned to Dorion. “Hurry, kill her!” he barked. “She must be the one who killed Eban. If she reveals the drug lab’s secrets, we’ll lose everything!”
Dorion’s eyes narrowed, his expression turning cold and calculating. He understood the danger, and the moment Yvette had revealed the truth about Eban’s cause of death, he knew he had to act swiftly. The stakes had just been raised higher than he had anticipated, but the earlier display of strength from Yvette made him wary. He knew he couldn’t underestimate her.
Pretending to remain calm, Dorion spoke to Yvette in a tone meant to reassure the crowd and maintain Tiger Head’s image. “So it’s true you killed Eban. In that case, don’t blame us for coming at you with everything we’ve got. Everyone here is Eban’s comrade, ready for revenge.”
Yvette’s cold gaze met his, and she gave a single, dismissive motion with her hand. “If you want to fight, let’s do it now. Stop wasting time and come at me together.”
The room went silent again. The sheer audacity of Yvette’s words sent a ripple of disbelief through the crowd. She was practically inviting them to attack her. No one had ever seen someone ask for a beating before, and the look of fearless determination in her eyes was both unsettling and intriguing.
Dorion, unable to maintain his calm act any longer, sneered and signaled his men. “Surround her!” he commanded, his voice sharp. Armed with knives, clubs, and makeshift weapons, the men of Tiger Head closed in on Yvette.
Yvette’s smirk only deepened as she watched the group charge toward her. She pulled a black strap from her pocket, wrapping it around her hand with precision. She was ready. The crowd could sense the violence that was about to unfold, but no one could have predicted the ferocity with which Yvette would fight back.
Half an hour later, the bar was unrecognizable. Bodies lay scattered around Yvette, some in grotesque heaps, others writhing in pain. The floor was slick with blood, and the air was thick with the metallic scent of violence. Yvette stood in the center, a picture of eerie calm, her black athletic clothes soaked in blood. Her hands were still clean, the blood of her enemies staining the floor around her, but not a drop on her skin.
She wiped her hands with a wet cloth, then looked up at Dorion and Burley. Her smile, wicked and charming, sent a chill down their spines. Blood had splattered across her cheeks, making her even more enigmatic, more dangerous.
For thirty minutes, Yvette had remained at the center of the chaos, moving with an almost supernatural grace. Each man who approached her fell before her, some knocked out with a single punch, others crippled by broken arms or dislocated jaws. She hadn’t moved from her spot; it was as if she were playing with them, toying with Tiger Head’s men. No lives had been lost, but the damage to their pride and their bodies was irrevocable.
As the last of Tiger Head’s thugs collapsed, Yvette slowly unwound the bloodied black strap from her hand and tossed it aside. She cleaned her hands with methodical care before looking up at the stunned faces of Dorion and Burley.
“Now it’s your turn,” she said casually, her voice smooth and cold. “With so many people ahead of you, if you don’t act soon, you’ll lose your chance.”
Dorion stood frozen, his face unreadable, while Burley looked like a man who had just witnessed something that defied all understanding. Yvette had made them look like fools, and neither of them knew what to do next. She was no ordinary woman; she was a force of nature, and they were about to find out just how far she was willing to go to finish what she had started.
