[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240828/688ac5d3d40c75e034e218d1778edf8d.png[/img][/center]
[center]LOC: Mafia Town, 17:59 hrs [/center]
[center]LVL: 1 [/center]
[center]WC: >750 [/center]
[center]EXP: 4/10 [/center]
[center]Interactions: [@Zoey Boey] (Juri) [/center]
[center] Mentions: [@Lugubrious] (Mabuchi, Mafia Boss) [@Zoey Boey] (Juri) [/center]


	[i]'CRACK!'[/i]

The suited mobster's skull collided mid-fall into the Mercenary's bionic fist; the resistance of bone against metal being felt up to his forearm and into his shoulder as the man sprawled out across the theater stage; weapon clattering harmlessly to the floor. The Mercenary wasted no time in stepping forward to secure the Kwan dao and heft the bladed weapon in his bionic hand; knowing from the weight of such a weapon alone, any use would be devastating at the cost of slowing him down. Perhaps he'd find use for it at a weapons exchange vendor. As for the mobster, the man was out cold and being dragged by a couple underlings presumably to a cell. Turning to the Mafia Boss, he was just in time to see the head honcho scatter a heaping handful of pons haphazardly around the punk girl's radius; clearly miffed enough about something to lack the dignity to respectfully pay her. If it was anything telling of how the catwoman acted by purposefully going after her at the start of the fight, that probably had something to do with it. The Mafia Boss was a stickler for results, and the Mercenary stifled his irritation at the disrespect.

A few pons had rolled their way over to the Mercenary; clattering against his boots as some rolled into their momentum and circled the floor before laying flat. He bent down to pick up the ones that came near him, being a sizable fistful, before walking over to the punk woman and holding his hand out for her to accept the currency, blading his body slightly with his other hand still holding the polearm as to not accidentally stick anyone around him. "Pretty good fighting style; rare to find that out here." The Mercenary complemented, his voice gravelly and rough with a notably slight lisp. Whatever she decided to do next, he was at least glad to have helped in case that man were to have recovered and prolonged the fight. After that, though, it was time for some answers. He looked back and over to Mabuchi still being carried out of the Casino. If nothing more pressing had come to his attention, he was going to tail the goons hauling his query to a cell.