Clayton never expected that simply watching an argument would drag him into trouble.
Bravus, seeing Clayton fall silent, assumed he had intimidated him. Emboldened by his imagined superiority, he grew more arrogant and aimed to humiliate him further.
Without warning, Bravus's fist shot toward Clayton.
But Clayton, snapping out of his daze just in time, shifted his expression and easily dodged the punch. In a swift counter, he struck Bravus squarely in the solar plexus.
Thud!
Bravus's smug grin vanished instantly, replaced by a pale, sickly expression.
Unable to stay on his feet, he collapsed, gasping for air—sweating profusely, his face drained of all color.
Barely able to speak, Bravus pointed a trembling finger at Clayton. "Clayton, you bastard! Are you trying to break the city's laws?!"
"What a rebel! If you dare, go ahead and kill me! Let's see how 'great' this Young Master Clayton really is!" he shouted, repeating the same words he once hurled at Arthur.
