No one was going to die, obviously.

  But Mauve clearly knew her limits. Three overweight middle-aged men were barely a challenge for her—three or five moves at most.

  Two minutes later, one of them was already on the ground, clutching his head and wailing.

  "Don't you dare leave! I'm calling the police!"

  A bald man sprawled on the floor fumbled for his phone. Blood from a gash on his forehead smeared across his face, and the sticky mess made his phone screen unresponsive.

  When he saw that demon of a woman walking toward him again, his face twisted in terror. He hurled his phone at her. Mauve tilted her head, dodging easily, and let out a cold laugh. "This is all you've got, and you still try to harass women?"

  "I give up! I was wrong, so wrong—just stop hitting me!" The bald man curled into a ball, sobbing and pleading, his bulky frame comically pathetic.

  Seeing him reduced to this, Mauve lost interest. She casually set down the fire extinguisher she'd been holding on a nearby table.

  The owner, cowering behind the counter, was completely stunned. He'd called the police the moment things escalated—but how had it turned out like this?

  Grace and the others didn't try to run. A scene this big meant waiting for the police.

  "Sir!" Grace called out to the owner. "Did you call them?"

  The owner nodded numbly. "I did. And I have security footage—it'll prove they harassed you first. But my place..."

  Someone had to pay for the damage.

  Grace didn't hesitate. She walked over, scanned the payment code, and transferred one Dollar. "Enough?"

  The owner's jaw dropped.

  One girl—a one-woman army.

  Another girl—flashing cash like it was nothing, paying him a whole Dollar in damages!

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  He snapped out of it quickly. "Y-yeah, that's enough."

  Not long after, the police arrived. Two very young officers.

  The moment they stepped in, they saw the wreckage and three grown men sprawled on the floor.

  One officer, thin and dark-skinned, scanned the scene with a furrowed brow. His eyes passed over the three girls sitting by the counter without a second thought. "Who called this in?"

  "I did, Officer." The owner emerged from behind the counter, looking thoroughly annoyed.

  Business had been slow enough without this.

  The officer looked at him. "What happened? Did the perps run? You have cameras?"

  "I do." The owner nodded, then hesitantly pointed at Grace and the others. "It was... them."

  The officer's gaze shifted back to the girls, his expression souring. "So the fight was over these three?"

  He and his partner approached, not bothering to ask any questions first. "Young ladies, find something better to do with your time. Out drinking with these guys at this hour?"

  Grace blinked, baffled.

  Mauve let out a derisive snort.

  Scarlett's eyes went wide. "Are you serious?!"

  "You've got it wrong, officers," the owner interjected quickly. "They're not with those men. The three on the floor? They're the ones who got beaten. By them." He pointed at Mauve. "Actually, strictly speaking, by her."

  "WHAT?!"

  Both officers exclaimed in unison, disbelief plastered across their faces as they stared at the three girls, finally settling on Mauve.

  Mauve crossed her arms, head tilted, eyeing them with obvious impatience. "Sexual harassment. I fought back. There's footage."

  Just then, the three men struggled to their feet and stumbled over, wailing.

  "Officer, you gotta arrest her! Look what she did to me!"

  "She fights dirty! Knocked my contact lens right out!"

  "My head's bleeding! I'm already anaemic!"

  "Enough! Shut up!" The officer snapped, shooting them a disgusted look. "Three grown men beaten up by one girl, and you have the nerve to cry about it? No shame?"

  The bald man, the worst off, looked even more aggrieved. "Easy for you to say! Watch the footage—she's not human! You think you could take her?!"

  "Officer, they came after us first. This is self-defense!" Scarlett insisted.

  The officers studied the three battered men. All those injuries... it definitely looked excessive.

  But the whole thing was surreal. One girl did this to three guys? The damage to the restaurant was incredible—two metal chairs were completely mangled, one with a distinct head-shaped dent.

  No prizes guessing whose head that was.

  "I'll review the footage."

  The officers calmed down and asked to see it.

  The footage played from the moment they walked in. Initially, there were four occupied tables. After two tables left, only these two groups remained. The three men huddled together, eyeing the girls and whispering among themselves. Finally, one was goaded into approaching them.

  The three girls ignored him and got up to leave. That's when it started. The man reached out to grab one—and the short-haired girl struck.

  From that moment on, the officers' eyes and mouths slowly widened in disbelief.

  This wasn't a fight.

  It was a one-sided beatdown.

  Three grown men, utterly helpless against a single girl. Down in under two minutes.

  The officers' palms grew clammy. The bald man was right—they wouldn't stand a chance either.

  This girl was clearly trained.

  Silence fell after the footage ended. The officers were completely at a loss.

  They exchanged glances, both equally bewildered.

  Finally, the thin officer spoke. "Stay here. Don't move."

  He pulled his partner aside, lowering his voice.

  "What do we do? The men did harass them first, but that girl went pretty hard. Definitely beyond reasonable self-defense."

  "But they deserved it. If she hadn't been trained, those girls would've been in real trouble."

  "Logically, yeah. But can we actually rule it that way?"

  "Maybe call the captain?"

  "It's 10 p.m. We'll get chewed out."

  "..."

  While they deliberated, the three men glared resentfully at the girls, silently vowing to sue for medical expenses and emotional damages.

  Then Mauve shot them a look.

  They instantly averted their eyes, cowering.

  The officers returned after a while. "You're all coming to the station for statements. Owner, you too. This place got wrecked—someone's gotta pay."

  "Already paid. This young lady covered it." The owner pointed at Grace.

  The officer glanced at Grace, then added, "Still need your statement. Everyone."