Chapter 34: Reserved for the Bad Women (Patreon)

West City's western district was an old part of town.

A three-story building stood there, a sign reading "Fierce Tiger Hall" hanging by the door.

Beside it sat a small warehouse that had been converted into their main hall.

Smoke hung thick inside, where several bare-chested toughs crowded around a mahjong table, an ashtray overflowing on its surface.

On a sofa against the wall sat a bald man with a gold chain, legs crossed, picking his teeth with a toothpick.

Oryon looked a little taken aback.

"So this is the so-called Fierce Tiger Gang?"

Lunch pulled him by the hand, walking on inside.

Soon enough, someone blocked their way.

"Who are you looking for?"

Lunch crossed her arms, putting on the air of a gang boss herself, and asked, "Where's your boss?"

The man said, "The boss isn't in. If you've got business, you can talk to our second-in-command."

With that, he pointed at the bald man picking his teeth off to the side.

The bald man took the toothpick out of his mouth and raised an eyebrow. "Talk to me. I'm the second-in-command — everyone calls me Brother Biao."

As he spoke, Brother Biao sized up the handsome Oryon and the wild, commanding Lunch.

Suddenly, a memory from long ago surfaced.

Three years back, at the docks of West City, a bloody brawl flashed through his mind — a blonde woman had taken on thirteen men single-handed with nothing but a gun.

The story was still told on the streets to this day.

He was one of the few who'd actually witnessed it firsthand.

And the woman standing before him now looked almost exactly like that one.

"Y-you... you're Master Thief Lunch?"

Lunch smiled faintly and pulled out a gun with practiced ease.

"Well, would you look at that — I've been out of the game for years, and my legend's still making the rounds!"

Brother Biao's leg trembled without him meaning it to. He asked respectfully, "Sis, what are your orders?"

Lunch swept a glance over the ragtag bunch and told Brother Biao, "Simple. I want the Tiger Head Gang gone — for good."

"What?!"

"You're here to wreck the place?"

"We haven't done anything to you, have we?"

At the words "wreck the place," the clatter of mahjong tiles stopped instantly.

Several of the toughs pulled their hands off the table, some already reaching for daggers or baseball bats at their waists.

With his men watching, he had to keep up appearances.

Steeling himself, Brother Biao said, "Don't think just because you've got a gun I'll be scared of you — I've been in this business for years..."

"Hand over your men — let's see what you've got!" Lunch said, arrogant as ever.

"Fine, you said it yourself. Our Tiger Head Gang's got plenty of men — we're not scared of you..."

Soon, everyone from the building came pouring out, and Oryon and Lunch found themselves surrounded by well over a hundred men.

Brother Biao's men all grabbed weapons, a few even had guns, and for a moment his spine stiffened right back up.

"Hey, boys, she's Master Thief Lunch — show them what we're made of..."

A few of the braver ones stepped forward.

Oryon sensed the small building everyone had poured out of — there wasn't a trace of life left inside it.

So the thugs standing before them now were the Tiger Head Gang's entire membership.

He pointed his palm at the building and said, "Like I said — from today, the Tiger Head Gang is finished. Go find something else to do with your lives..."

"You say disband and we just disband? Who do you think you are?"

"Yeah! Think I won't hack you to pieces?"

A blue glow lit up in Oryon's palm, and in an instant a Ki Blast shot toward the building.

"Boom!"

The Ki Blast detonated, and the entire building was blasted straight into ash, dust and smoke billowing everywhere.

The wind carried the dust and the smell of scorched debris across everyone's faces.

Everyone's dyed, multicolored bangs fluttered in the gust, and every last one of them stood there dumbstruck.

The air went dead silent.

It felt like a dream.

In a single instant, the Tiger Head Gang's headquarters had just been blown off the map?

And it had been done with some kind of move that looked like pure magic.

Who would believe something like this could happen to the Tiger Head Gang?

Just as the dust was settling, a guy with dyed yellow hair came stumbling in from outside.

"Brother Biao, Brother Biao, it's bad...

Boss got beaten so bad he's in the hospital — his spine's broken. The doctor says he'll never stand again for the rest of his life.

And Sister Hong got beaten so badly she lost control of her bladder and bowels."

But despite how frantic his shouting was, nobody answered him.

The moment he stepped in, he spotted Oryon and Lunch.

His face instantly went ashen.

"It... it was him... he's the one who did it."

Lunch swept her gaze over the crowd, looking utterly smug. "Hmph. Now you know what I'm capable of, huh? Now drop your weapons and disband the Tiger Head Gang, or what?"

"Clang, clatter, clank..."

Everyone dropped their machetes, clubs, and every other weapon, begging for mercy one after another.

Lunch waved a hand, and the crowd scattered like startled birds and beasts.

In just a few minutes, a local gang that had run wild for years fell apart.

[Ding! The Host has completed an act of domination against an Evil Will.]

[Target of this domination: Tiger Head Gang second-in-command Brother Biao (Power Level approx. 5) and 123 gang members (average Power Level approx. 3-4).

Reward: six hours of cultivation progress.]

Oryon's brow furrowed.

All that work, and he only got six hours of cultivation progress?

Sure, it hadn't cost him much time, but there were over a hundred people involved — this reward was way too stingy...

He'd get more out of a single moment with Lunch or Bulma. Oryon's whole philosophy was doing less work for more reward.

Otherwise, grinding out cultivation through sheer effort — how was that any different from working a day job?

Oryon sighed, thinking to himself, "Guess bullying ordinary people just doesn't pay off.

This Tyrant's Will can only be used on villains, and they need to be strong enough to matter — but villains worth my notice are pretty rare..."

Suddenly, inspiration struck, and a mischievous idea popped into Oryon's head.

"Right — this Tyrant's Will might not be much use now, but I could save it up for bullying bad girls..."

With that thought, Oryon's mind settled a little.

He wrapped an arm around Lunch's slender waist. "Lunch, how about tonight the three of us play Jenga with Bulma?"

Lunch blushed and leaned into his shoulder, bashful. "Whatever you want to play, as long as you're happy..."

Oryon said, "I'm not hungry yet — are we still eating tonight..."

Lunch thought it over. "Of course we're eating. Besides, at Bulma's place I don't have to cook — they've got a professional chef..."

Oryon nodded.

"Fair enough. After we wear ourselves out playing tonight, there'll be a late-night snack ready to go!"

Lunch pressed her lips into a smile. "Mm, I love their desserts — making them myself takes way too much time..."

"You little glutton."

Night fell over Capsule Corporation.

Oryon lay stretched out on the sofa while Lunch sat beside him, massaging his head.

Bulma, looking pleased with herself, said, "Pretty impressive, right? Seven more days and the Gravity Chamber will be finished..."

"Impressive, impressive..."

Oryon said, eyes half-closed, offering the praise.

"I work myself to the bone and you praise me like you don't even mean it? I'm going to punish you..."

"Oh? Not even bullets can hurt me? And you think you can punish me how, exactly?"

The moment Oryon opened his eyes, Bulma plopped herself right down on his face.

"Mmph..."

Everything went dark at once, and Oryon couldn't breathe.

Grinning mischievously, Bulma lifted up Oryon's T-shirt and ran her hand over his abs.

"Let's see here — with no one to supervise you lately, have you still been training hard, or has that six-pack gone soft and flabby..."

Lunch swatted Bulma on the backside, scolding her. "Bulma, you're about to suffocate him — get up already..."

Bulma didn't budge an inch. As strong as Oryon was, could she really suffocate him?

She turned back to Lunch and asked, "Lunch, do you usually have to force him to eat?"

Lunch shook her head. "He loves my cooking. Why would I need to force him?"

A sly smile crept onto Bulma's face, and she leaned in close to whisper something in Lunch's ear.

Lunch's face turned bright red instantly. She gave a small nod and looked at Bulma. "Mm... he does, sometimes..."

Bulma sat back up, bringing her face close to Oryon's, and said with a beaming smile, "Darling, looks like you're in for a treat tonight again. Happy?"