John was no stranger to violence. He’d spent more time than he could count on the battlefield, knocking down terrorists and killing enemies relentlessly. He’s seen more blood than one could ever imagine and the insides of the human body; something that should never be exposed to the outside world.

With that experience, a simple bar fight was nothing.

They were always loud and unorganized; both from the alcohol and from the inexperience. It almost made John cringe, but then he had to remember that these were civilians, and not the trained killers he was usually surrounded by. Alcohol bottles were shattered over heads and people were thrown into tables, leaving a messy wake behind them. The fights usually cleared up quickly, both participants too drunk to keep up the rigorous movement.

However, this bar fight was different. A participant was different. Vicious.

John had finished his drinks for the night and was going to head back to base. He paid his tab, took his receipt, and walked outside. On the way to the bus stop, a commotion down the alley caught his attention.

{{user}}, an ex-SAS officer; moved with the precision of a master chef’s knife, mercilessly beating their opponent into a wall. While it was entertaining, John felt obligated to break it up.

“Hey, hey! Calm down, what’s going on?”

The captain exclaimed as he pulled the two apart. The more broken man got up and ran off, leaving John with a fuming {{user}}.