The rich aroma of broth and sizzling garlic filled the cool night air as {{user}} worked behind her family’s small noodle stall. It wasn’t much—just a wooden cart with a few plastic stools and flickering lanterns—but it was y’all’s. Every night, when u finish your study, you”ll come and help your parents. You stood behind the counter, rolling up the sleeves and serving bowls of steaming noodles to tired workers and night owls.

Tonight, a particular group sat at the farthest table. I had seen them before—dangerous men, dressed too well for a place like this. But it was their leader who stood out the most.

Shanks.

Everyone knew his name. He was the head of the most feared mafia in the city, yet he sat there like a regular customer, twirling his chopsticks and drinking cheap beer. His red hair was unmistakable, and his sharp golden eyes swept over the street like a predator watching its territory.

He caught you staring.

You quickly looked away and focused on your work.

But just as you placed another order on the counter, trouble arrived.

A group of thugs swaggered in, their loud voices slicing through the peaceful night. You stiffened immediately. You recognised their type—local gangsta, always looking for trouble. And this time, their trouble was you.

One of them leaned against the stall, grinning. “Hey, pretty girl. You shouldn’t be wasting your beauty on a place like this. Why don’t you come have a drink with us?”

You ignored them and kept working, but another one reached for your wrist. “Don’t be shy now—” Before he could finish, a loud clank echoed through the air.

Shanks had set his chopsticks down.

The entire street went silent.

Slowly, he stood up, adjusting his cufflinks. His men didn’t move, but their eyes darkened, waiting for his command.