Marvel and Beyond

Max broke into a cold sweat as his eyes ran over the three thugs. He cursed his luck for betraying him at the worst possible moment.

'What the hell is wrong with my fate?'

"Step away from the car!" the so-called beggar shouted, just as Max was analyzing the situation.

Max narrowed his eyes, glaring at the man he had foolishly helped, thinking him just a desperate soul.

'Let's think of something.'

His gaze swept over the trio; men with poor health, trembling hands, and knives pointed at him. Yet unmistakable greed drooled from their eyes.

Their messy hair, sunken cheeks, hunched backs under oversized coats and hoods, and overall weary condition spoke volumes of their desperation.

'Not professional goons at least. Just a momentary spark of madness to rob someone.' He concluded grimly.

However, his situation didn't improve whether they were seasoned muggers or just got swept up in the moment after spotting an easy target.

Now that they'd chosen to rob someone, they wouldn't stop. Not after tasting the potential pleasure and rewards that came with minimal effort.

He doubted any of them had a clean record. They probably had histories with drugs or perhaps were illegal immigrants struggling to survive.

Max sighed. "Hey, let's not do this. Leave me alone and find another way to make money. You'll get yourselves into real trouble like this."

He regarded the thugs, trying to converse like a gentleman.

"Don't bullshit and give us everything you've got!" barked the one on the right. His voice cracked, trembling from the forced aggression meant to sound threatening.

'Tsk. These guys are desperate. They'll do anything in an adrenaline rush. Better not provoke them just yet.'

"Okay... here."

Slowly, he slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, holding it up before them. His eyes locked onto the one in front.

He swayed the wallet in the air. All their gazes latched onto it, unmistakable greed flaring in their dull eyes.

He smiled inwardly. 'Let's get out of this without a fight. A little cash won't even make a scratch in my bank balance.'

Max had no intention of fighting them for justice or playing some kind of hero.

There were three thugs, each with a knife. He might handle one, but three? That was beyond his level right now.

He could use the gun, the system's space would allow a sudden ambush that might take them down swiftly.

 But this wasn't some dark alley at midnight. These lunatics were robbing him in broad daylight, right on the main street.

Insane!

Maybe he could sway the law under self-defense. However, with so many corporate enemies watching him closely, they'd twist the situation to damage his reputation or worse.

It simply wasn't worth the trouble. Not to mention, these guys were too close for comfort. One wrong move and things could go sideways fast.

He sighed inwardly. 'If only the System rewarded me with some martial arts. Science-based knowledge is useless here.'

He tossed the wallet toward the thug. "Here. Now let me go."

The thug caught it and, without hesitation, began tearing through its contents, grabbing the cash and stuffing it into his pocket, while cards and other items were discarded onto the street like trash.

Max glared at the shameless display but let go of any rage. He just wanted to get out of there.

"Now I'm going. You have everything."

"The watch," another thug demanded. "Give that too."

Max narrowed his eyes at the speaker but gradually removed his watch and threw it at the man, who quickly slipped it onto his wrist and admired the costly device.

Max took a slow step back, heading toward his car. But then came the next demand.

"Your blazer looks expensive. Leave that too."

He froze in place, glaring at the man who now wore a feral grin.

"Don't push it. Let me go now. You've got everything of value."

"No, no," the thug giggled like a lunatic, eyes wide. "You're still holding out. Those clothes are expensive, and I bet the car's loaded with goodies too. You rich folks are all the same."

Max clenched his fists, the knuckles turning white with tension. These bastards were pushing their luck. His desire to avoid trouble was being mistaken for weakness.

He just wanted peace, especially now when enemies in high places were waiting for any excuse to strike. But he wasn't afraid of these desperate beggars.

'Alright. You asked for it.'

His eyes narrowed, rage igniting in his chest. He'd tried to walk away, to let it go. But if they wanted to play dirty, they'd face the consequences.

His gaze darted across the three men. He calculated their positions, preparing to dash any hopes they had of walking away carefree.

He'd smash the closest one's face in and if the others dared to move, he'd let his shooting skills speak next.

 If he was lucky, the opening ambush would stun them long enough to avoid any injuries.

He slowly stepped forward with a calm expression, raising his hands in a gesture that seemed like he was removing the blazer, but really preparing a swift strike.

Just as he shifted his weight forward, ready to make his move—

"What's going on here?"

A sharp, familiar voice cut through the tension. Max's head snapped to the side.

There stood the waitress from the nearby café, hands on her hips, brows furrowed in a stern glare directed at the thugs.

'Shit. What now?'

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