C4 Devastating Asura!

A souped-up motorcycle, fiery red hair, black earrings, a tattered denim shirt, and a gaunt frame—the very picture of a street thug seemed to leap to life.

"Tafari?" Ivy exclaimed in surprise.

She knew him.

Tafari had been her classmate during freshman year in high school. He was the quintessential troublemaker—constantly skipping class, getting into fights, and flirting with girls. He was frequently the subject of school-wide disciplinary announcements.

By sophomore year, he had dropped out and gone home.

Rumors swirled that he had since joined the underworld and was up to no good.

"Well, well, I'm impressed. Our school's beauty queen still remembers me."

Tafari flicked his earring with a smirk and said, "How about it? It's been a while. Fancy a spin on my bike?"

"No thanks, you go on ahead," Ivy declined, shaking her head.

She instinctively recoiled from the likes of him and had no intention of joining him for a ride.

"Don't be so quick to say no. I could introduce you to some friends of mine. You'd have a blast," he persisted, flashing a cheeky grin.

Tafari was brazen, even reaching out to grab Ivy.

Ivy hadn't expected him to be so bold. Startled, she quickly stepped back behind Westley.

With a subtle, protective step forward,

Westley shielded Ivy completely.

Tafari gave Westley a once-over, noting his average looks and unimposing stature, and scoffed with contempt.

"And who might you be?" he sneered at Ivy.

Ivy remained silent, refusing to engage.

Westley offered a friendly smile and retorted, "What does it matter to you who I am?"

"You've got some nerve," Tafari remarked.

He lit a cigarette, took a drag, and exhaled smoke in Westley's direction before asking, "You her brother?"

"No," Westley replied, shaking his head.

"Her uncle, then?" Tafari scowled.

"Also no," Westley continued, unfazed.

"Could you be her dad?"

A sly grin spread across Tafari's face as he seemed to remember something. "Oh, that can't be! She's an orphan; her folks have been dead for years."

Upon hearing those words, Ivy's eyes instantly dimmed with sorrow.

The loss of her parents at a young age was a lifelong ache in her heart.

Westley glanced at Tafari, shaking his head with a sigh. "Why is your mouth so foul? Did you skip brushing your teeth this morning?"

"What the hell! Are you asking for trouble? Do you even know who I am?" Tafari bristled, his hair practically standing on end in his rage.

He'd been around the block, seen all sorts of characters. Yet here was Westley, daring to sass him?

Ivy tugged at Westley's sleeve and murmured, "Westley, let's just go."

"Alright," Westley conceded, not keen on tangling with such a petty thug. He and Ivy turned to head into Wood's Noodle Shop.

But Tafari, seething, blocked their path with an outstretched hand.

"Hold on!"

"What now? You got more to say?" Westley asked, his brow furrowed with annoyance.

"You're clueless, aren't you? I was talking to Ivy. This isn't your conversation to jump into!" Tafari spat venomously.

A crisp slap rang out on Five Dragon Street.

Tafari clutched his stinging cheek, staring at Westley in astonishment.

He hadn't even registered what happened before a solid slap landed across his face.

"You dare hit me?" Tafari's face was a picture of incredulity.

"Even if you were to literally eat crap, I wouldn't stop you. But if you finish your meal and then talk to people, that's where you're wrong," Westley said, his smile tinged with mockery.

"I'm going to destroy you!"

Trembling with fury, Tafari swung a punch at Westley's face.

"Way too slow!"

Westley shook his head, still finding room to taunt.

As Tafari neared, Westley swiftly ducked.

Simultaneously, his right foot shot out like lightning, striking Tafari's knee.

Tafari's knee erupted in pain, and he was sent flying several meters.

Before he could scramble to his feet, a size 43 shoe was mercilessly planted on his face, pinning him helplessly to the ground.

Westley struck back, taking Tafari down to the ground in a swift motion that lasted no more than five seconds. Onlookers gaped, their eyes wide with shock at the rapid turn of events.

Ivy was the most astonished of all. She could hardly believe that Westley, who was always so mild-mannered and polite, possessed such a bold and formidable side.

Tafari, pinned under Westley's humiliating stance, was seething with anger and humiliation. "Don't you know who I am?" he threatened.

"I'd rather not," Westley replied coolly, shaking his head dismissively.

"My boss is Baldie, from the Ghost Fire Gang," Tafari yelled desperately.

"And that concerns me how?" Westley quipped with a devilish grin, pressing down harder with his foot.

A terrible pressure bore down on Tafari's face, as if a wall were slowly crushing his skull. He hadn't believed Westley capable of such brutality until now, and fear took hold of him.

"Westley, let's just leave it," Ivy pleaded, her voice trembling with fear. She was terrified that Westley might act impulsively and do something dreadful.

"Okay, for you," Westley conceded with a smile, lifting his foot off Tafari, who exhaled in relief, feeling like he had narrowly escaped death.

Tafari gingerly touched his cheek and winced. The pain was sharp and searing. His face felt as swollen as a pig's head.

Just as he thought the ordeal was over, Westley bent down, grabbed Tafari by the collar like he was picking up a small chicken, and hoisted him to his feet.

"What are you going to do?" Tafari's voice cracked, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and the threat of tears. Even as a thug, he was petrified of someone more powerful than himself.

Westley was that someone—a man more fearsome than any crime lord he'd encountered.

"I'm warning you, keep your distance from Ivy. Otherwise..." Westley's voice was icy, his grip on Tafari's collar tightening.

Gasping for air, Tafari floundered like a fish out of water, suddenly yearning for the breaths he'd always taken for granted. In his panic, he met Westley's chilling gaze and wondered how eyes could hold such terrifying depth.

He loomed like a bloodthirsty beast from ancient lore, his gaze so merciless it seemed he could devour a man whole.

He was akin to the Grim Reaper, freshly emerged from the depths of hell.

If he decreed your death for three in the morning, not a soul could hope to see five o'clock dawn.

Just as he braced for the end, Westley released his grip.

Tafari gulped down air greedily.

Never before had the taste of freedom been so sweet, so exhilarating!

Westley clapped him on the shoulder with a grin. "Kid, you won't last long out there if you don't shape up. I suggest you hit the books and aim to contribute something worthwhile."

His genial smile transformed him into the spitting image of an approachable big brother.

Such a stark contrast to the man who had just seemed a harbinger of doom.

Tafari couldn't help but think that Westley's smile was somehow more daunting than his stony silence.

"I'm sorry, I was wrong," he mumbled, his voice tinged with the threat of tears. He sprang to his feet and dashed to his motorcycle.

Ignition turned, engine roared to life, and he was off—without a moment's delay.

Westley watched him speed away, nodding with satisfaction. "The kid's alright. Admits his mistakes and makes amends."

Ivy couldn't help but giggle at his remark.

"What's so funny? Did I misspeak?" Westley asked, puzzled.

"If Tafari's the good guy, that makes you the villain," Ivy quipped, her eyes dancing with mirth.

"I've never been described quite like that before," Westley chuckled, bemused.

Of course, Ivy was oblivious to his darker side; she had never witnessed it.

But those who knew him well, they didn't call him 'Devastating Asura' for nothing.