Nana Toki turned her head; the café’s doorway was ringed like a storm front, a knot of bodies shouldering in.

Their faces were wolfish, hard as iron kettles—no one came to sip foam; they came to smash the scene.

Amused, she clicked her tongue. That fast?

System: "..."

Host, could you not stand there like a gawker at a house fire?

I’m doing my mission, aren’t I?

"Hey, you over there—yeah, you—bring me a handful of sunflower seeds and peanuts."

"Eh?"

Behind the counter, Yuzuki looked left, looked right; her confusion bloomed to full-on bewilderment, like fog swallowing a streetlamp.

Even the System couldn’t read Nana Toki’s play.

Sunflower seeds and peanuts?

Host, what are you doing?

Watching the show.

System: "..."

At her brazen tone, even the System wanted to clap for this lunatic host.

Mm… fierce.

They’ve come to wreck your place, and you’ve got time to munch seeds and spectate?

You think you’re here on vacation?

It’s part of the operation. You wouldn’t get it, trash System.

System: "..."

"Where’s Zhao Laosi? Get your ass out here, now!"

The lead bruiser swaggered in like a bull, no fear in him; he slapped the glass door beside him till it popped, sharp and loud, like firecrackers.

Veins rose on the staff’s foreheads like bowstrings; they looked ready to rush him and twist his head off like a bad lid.

Bang, bang, bang!

The door wobbled on its hinges like a reed in wind. Even from afar, Yuzuki worried it would come apart in the next breath.

"Th-that… seeds…"

Yuzuki cupped a handful of seeds in both palms and crept to Nana Toki. "Here…"

"Oh! Nice, nice. A real pro server."

Nana Toki smiled, took the seeds like catching a tossed coin. "Alright, not your fight. You run along."

"Eh?" Yuzuki didn’t get it.

"Can’t you see a brawl’s about to burst like summer thunder? Don’t add chaos. Shoo." Nana Toki cracked a seed with a click. "If anyone gets hurt, I’m not covering it."

"Wh-what about you?"

Yuzuki pinched the hem of her white maid apron, voice small as a sparrow.

"Me? Don’t worry."

…

Bang!

A green beer bottle tore the air like a comet and smashed on the leader’s skull. From the crowd, the bearded uncle from yesterday shouldered out, cussing, a fresh bottle swinging in his fist.

"The hell you yowling about? Still dare kick my door? Wang Gou, you grown a spine? Or is your hide itching for Grandpa Zhao to loosen your bones?"

Beard Uncle led a pack from inside to the entrance; they squared off with the gang at the threshold like two storms colliding.

"What’s this? Come to wreck my place? Didn’t I beat the fear into you last time?" Zhao Laosi sneered at Wang Gou. "Just out, huh? Hospital fees are pricey these days. Can you afford it?"

"You—"

The moment last time was mentioned, anger flared in Wang Gou like a struck match.

He didn’t finish.

Bang!

Zhao Laosi’s bottle came down on his head like a hammer to an eggshell.

"Motherf—!"

Crash!

Wang Gou’s scalp blossomed; blood, beer, and glass rained to the floor like spattered petals.

The doorway filled with the copper reek of blood laced with malt, a bitter-sweet fog that turned stomachs.

The strung-tight tension snapped like a lit fuse.

Wang Gou’s crew saw their boss get clocked and surged in like a rip tide. Steel pipes and iron rods flashed; anything in reach took a beating.

Glass shrieked and burst, a clatter-storm; screams cut through the air like torn silk.

Chaos roared in a heartbeat.

"Brothers, beat them within an inch!"

Zhao Laosi wasn’t about to watch his own shop get trashed. He grabbed a man by the nape like a cat with a mouse and smashed him onto a table; fruit plates and beer cups burst across the floor like sleet.

He didn’t stop; he swung an iron chair and drove it into the man’s back like a gong strike.

The rest piled in, fists and mystery weapons blooming in hands like weeds in rain.

Even the band on stage dropped their song; stools and pipes became drumsticks in their grip.

Nana Toki sat at the counter, the perfect bystander, crunching Yuzuki’s sunflower seeds and peanuts, a picnic at the edge of a battlefield.

Maybe her spot was tucked away; no one came hunting her, like a stone under a river’s skin.

System: "..."

Host.

What?

Aren’t you going to do something?

Like what?

Like… help?

Ugh. That sounds super troublesome.

System: "..."

Fine. I’m out of words.

This host’s brain is absolutely cracked.

"Hm? Someone’s missing."

Nana Toki arched a brow, eyes skimming the knot of bodies; she counted like tapping beads.

One… three… five… seven…

Mm. Short one.

What is it, Host?

The System paused at her sudden focus, like a leaf stilled in wind. Did something happen?

The headcount’s off.

Off?

Yeah. We’re missing one.

Nana Toki cracked the last seed in her palm and dusted her hands like shedding old skin, then stood.

Chen Yi isn’t in there.

Eh?

Come on. Let’s go find our sweet, silly princess.

Skirting the café’s edge like a cat along a wall, Nana Toki slipped away from the brawl’s whirlpool.

She’d told Yuzuki to grab seeds, then to hide; now who knew where the girl had fled?

At the back exit, she circled wide as a hawk, but Yuzuki’s shadow didn’t show.

Tsk. Don’t tell me that dummy ran home.

Annoyed, she kneaded her sore temples, the ache pulsing like drumbeats, and angled toward Yuzuki’s place to check.

Suddenly, a pleasant voice called to her, bright as a bell in mist.

"Hey! Suo Sen!"