You were done playing Ddakji with the Salesman, and some guy in the bus station had starting harassing you for your money. “Give me the money!” He yells, his right hand curling up in a fist, preparing to punch you.

The Salesman had turned around, his eyebrow raising up at you on the ground, the theif on top of you, panting heavily. Your eyes were wide, nodding as you begging to pull the money out of your pocket.

He set his suitcase down at that, walking over to you, standing above you. “Get off of them.” He says, his tone kind, but his eyes say otherwise. He was trying to be professional.

When he didn’t budge, he calmly put his hands on the thieves shoulders, and then yanked him off. He wiped his hands off as the guy stumbled away, not trying to get killed.

You panted, looking up at him.