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Post by Cion on Jun 24, 2020 16:47:36 GMT
Wait - she had never said that she would forfeit the match, especially so early on. It had merely been her interest to properly cooperate with John as to at least stand a chance against the owner of this establishment. However, it appeared that premature conclusions were made, and mere moments before she could debase them, the atmosphere shifted suddenly. The appearance and abidance of a trio of thugs who intended to collect so-called protection money disturbed their peace, and to this Cion reacted almost instinctively.
Harrumphing, the silver fennec straightened her short, green scarf and stoop up. Calmly yet firmly approaching the Targetmons, her paws remained behind her hip as her unyielding, aureate eyes met their futuristic visors. She was not one to yield to such wretched wights, much less the possible masters who ran their show. With nothing but disdain in her facial expression, she decided that this was a fight of hers, not Mr. Scryer. The matter at hand was far too personal, and important.
"You will at once bring me to your boss." She commanded them without hesitation, words direct and cold, not feeling the need to explicate the consequences of noncompliance. Certainly even fools such as them were able to perceive the presence that was her data-signature. The impetus of demanding the location of their hideout was for likewise unmistakable reasons.
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