Tresbola leaned closer to Blindy, set the most expensive whiskey in front of him
and lifted the glass to his lips so gently,
like she wasn’t feeding a criminal,
but a kid
who just had a really bad day.
Her smile.
That one.
The signature one that could calm anything down.
Even a goddamn asteroid.
“Jody… cariño mío.
I can see it. You’re ashamed of your name.
And what your friend said… it got under your skin.
But look at me…”
Blindy slowly looked up.
In front of him stood
the three-breasted queen of the bar,
the real power of this little world,
a woman who kept order
where laws stopped working a long time ago.
“I accepted myself the way I am.
And I don’t let a single idiota upset me.
And you, mi querida Jody…
you take your name with pride.”
She placed her hand on his cheek.
And he nodded,
like for half a second
he became a better man.
Behind them the noise was still there.
Laughter, whistles, screams:
“JOOOOODY!”
The crowd was having fun.
Sharp. Loud. Mean.
Tresbola raised her hands.
Clapped once.
The bar went silent instantly.
“Estimados clientes…
in this bar, personal attacks are prohibido.
Outside, do whatever you want.
Pero aquí… we respect each other. ¿Verdad?”
The crowd murmured. Nobody argued. Almost nobody.
Bru’Talon. Seven-foot orange tank of a creature, two of his brains already offline, raised his third arm and roared:
“OR WHAT?!
Who the hell gonna make me leave?!”
The bar froze. Doce’s hand moved toward the shotgun.
T.8.0.0 lifted its head.
Eyes switching to combat mode.
Tresbola snapped her fingers.
All under control.
She walked toward Bru slow,
like she was stepping onto an opera stage.
Stopped. Looked up.
His head was literally touching the ceiling.
“Estimado Bru…” she said softly.
I knew your mama.
Very decent woman.
Don’t shame her name.
You’re gonna say ‘sorry’…
like un buen hijo of Ellira’Talon.
And we continue this noche maravillosa.“
Bru snorted:
“DOCE!
Tell your woman…
TO SHUT UP!”
Doce blinked all three eyes.
“Eh… compadre… she… uh—”
Tresbola moved.
Three precise hits. Two to the knees. One to the side. Second heart. All in 0.6 seconds.
Bru rocked forward…
back…
The crowd behind him instinctively dragged tables out the way.
Tresbola smiled gently:
“Ahora sí, mi amor…
you can fall backward now.”
Bru wheezed:
“Thaaank yooou…”
And dropped like a building.
The whole bar jumped like a foot in the air.
The crowd exploded:
“TRES-BO-LA! TRES-BO-LA!”
Tresbola gave a perfect stage bow. Turned to T.8.0.0:
“Mi querido, take him outside.
Let him cool off in the rain.”
T.8.0.0 switched to cleaning mode,
neatly “swept” Bru into a giant trash bag,
and rolled him toward the exit.
Tresbola turned back to the crowd:
“Dear guests…
I feel tension.
Everyone gets 15% discount.”
“YEEEEEEAH!” the bar erupted.
She raised one finger:
“Of course…
our dear Bru will be paying.”
From near the door came a muffled:
“…o-okay…”
The bar lost it again.
And Blindy…
Blindy was staring at her like she wasn’t a woman,
but some kind of divine revelation
in full three-dimensional chest configuration.
He whispered under his breath:
“No…
no—no—NO—
you ain’t—you ain’t supposed to be my type—
this is—this is wrong—
think about Shiori—
just—just think about Shiori—
ONLY Shiori—focus—
stay focused—”