As they stabilized their breathing, Miss Chievous and Miss Masher had lifted themselves fully upright. Miss Masher’s attention has been fixed firmly on the corpse, whereas Miss Chievous stared at Jonathan for a few moments longer before finally looking down at the corpse as well.

Lucas is vaguely aware of some quiet murmuring off to the side, but his attention is brought back to those nearby when Miss Masher makes an impressed whistle as she kicks over the corpse.

“And here I thought Calc went berzerk when she gets mad. I had a feelin’ you two were playin’ around before, but that was somethin’ else. Tch, right through his endurance, too.” While Miss Masher is saying this, she is grinding her right heel down on the still-attached arm.

The pressure from her assault causes blood to gush out of the open wound of the ex-wrist a bit faster, and there’s a few audible cracks as she slowly crushes the bones of the late-druggie’s forearm. She’s scowling as she stomps a little harder, clearly dissatisfied with her rate of destruction.

‘Ah... I can’t really just say how I wasn’t all that eager to kill him at first, yeah?’

[After your little display there, I imagine no one, at least apart from maybe Jonathan, would even remotely believe you.]

Lucas awkwardly chuckles a few times as he rubs the back of his head, looking down at the mangled corpse. After a slight delay, he then shifts his gaze over to Miss Masher’s face before responding.

“Well, I mean, everyone was havin’ so much fun at first, and there was no rush, yeah? But, ya know, when he might’ve actually hurt someone... that was too much.” Lucas’s answer prompts Miss Masher to snort, and she also loses interest in her offense against the inert limb.

With a new target in mind, she looks around and then walks over to claim the forcibly removed arm, which is lying on the ground an impressive distance away.

Jonathan had continued staring at the corpse for a while before gaining a slightly vacant expression. After a few moments of this unfocused gaze, he suddenly looked briefly startled, glanced out the windows, raised an eyebrow, then turned his attention up to look at Lucas.

He opens his mouth, but then hesitates before speaking up, opting to close his mouth instead.

Lucas, however, doesn’t notice the look he’s getting from Jonathan. He has finally turned his attention towards examining the state of the service counter and the bakery case, frowning slightly at their disastrous condition.

Miss Chievous walks over to reclaim the plastic shopping bag of medical supplies from where she left it on the ground, then walks back over to stand behind Jonathan.

She reaches over and tugs on the seam of his shirt by his left shoulder, looking down at the blood splatter across his back as she pulls the fabric taut.

“Hold still... That’s all his, right? He didn’t manage to hit you anywhere, right?” Miss Chievous has an anxious tone at first, but as she looks the bloodstains over she relaxes and then finally lets go of his shirt before continuing in a softer tone.

“No, of course he didn’t. It would be far too obvious if he did... And, er, thanks.” By the time Miss Chievous murmurs her appreciation, her voice is barely above a whisper.

Jonathan is surprised all over again, turning so he can look at her over his shoulder.

“Y-yeah... Um, y-you’re welcome. ...Y-you’re okay too, right?” Once Jonathan finishes stammering this out, she nods.

Before she vocalizes a response, he raises a hand and points out the ex-windows, which she promptly turns to look out of before letting out a soft “Oh.”

Lucas starts to take a step towards the customer service area, but Jonathan reaches over to tug on his nearest sleeve to gain his attention with his free hand, still pointing at the windows with the other.

“Eh? What’s up, kiddo?” Lucas stops walking and turns to face Jonathan, asking his question before his eyes follow the direction of Jonathan’s pointed finger.

Lucas involuntarily sucks in a sharp breath when he sees the large crowd of people milling about on the sidewalk, all of whom are curiously watching the group inside.

‘What the fuck!? Where did they all come from!?’

[...The first few people were attracted by all the noise, and then as some of them started watching, others noticed the growing group of observers and joined in. Before you ask, three of them have been streaming since shortly before Miss Chievous first started using the Viblade.]

Lucas’s frown deepens, and the left corner of his mouth twitches. Fully turning his body to face the main doorway, he takes a few steps forward.

‘...Why didn’t you say anything!?’

[I knew that if you were aware of their presence, it would impact your behavior. Keeping it... candid was to your benefit.]

‘...’

[...Really. This managed to serve double duty as not only a very successful task, but also as a PR move, which you and Jonathan have desperately needed.]

‘...Very successful?’

[We both know that you don’t have complete control over your micro-expressions, we’ll discuss this further when you aren’t being actively documented.]

‘...Okay, that’s fair.’

“All right guys, the show’s over. Don’t ya got anythin’ better to do? Go on, git, or you’re next.” While Lucas may be trying to use threatening language, his exasperated tone belies his lack of any intended wrath.

Rather than being even remotely intimidated, the nosey crowd seems invigorated. Now that they aren’t quietly attempting to avoid interrupting the action and its oddly peaceful aftermath, there is a chorus of clicks from snapped photos and a mix of shouts.

“Xenoclast! Can I have your autograph!?”

“That was awesome!”

“That asshole deserved it, he made me spill my drink!”

“Jackknife! That was so badass!”

“Miss Masher, there’s finally someone stronger than you! What are you gonna do now!?”

“What happened to Miss Chievous’s pants!?”

...You get the idea.

Lucas stops in his tracks, sighing and facepalming.

‘...People treating supervillains like celebrities is fucking weird! What the hell is wrong with this world!?’

[Admittedly, many things.]

“No... no autographs. Seriously people, what the fuck? Shoo!” After Lucas releases his facepalm, he waves dismissively at some of the gathered throng outside.

His face then lights up, and he spins around, shouting out, “Jon!”

Even though Lucas has an excited tone, the volume of the sudden address causes Jonathan to flinch. “W-what!?”

Lucas doesn’t notice Jonathan’s stress response, and instead grins and continues shouting at him.

“I know yer probably tired, but give them like five seconds, and then go snatch every cellphone in sight!” This manages to be Lucas’s most successful threat by far, as there is a collection of concerned and startled gasps and groans before a series of beeps from phones being shut off and stuffed into pockets and bags.

A few people even finally start walking away.

Miss Chievous starts laughing hysterically at the communal reactions, and Miss Masher isn’t far behind her in terms of sheer volume.

Jonathan’s face lights up once he recovers from his instinctive anxiety over having his name loudly yelled at him, and he even makes a show of starting to walk over towards the doors with a mischievous grin.

Lucas is no longer paying the group of gawkers any mind, walking towards the service area once more. As he and Jonathan approach each other, he holds a hand out for a mid-five, which Jonathan returns as he walks past him.

As Jonathan outwardly seems to be intent on following up on Lucas’s command, the last few people that weren’t taking Lucas’s threat seriously have also hidden their phones.

The crowd is starting to notably shrink as more people disperse.

A service bot had been standing by the doorway to the kitchens, watching the action for quite some time now. Seeing Lucas approaching the counters, or at least what remains of them, it walks over as well.

Another bot comes out from the back a few seconds after the first one leaves its post, carrying something small in its pronged hand.

When Lucas is a few steps away from conversational distance with the first bot, his phone chimes out a default text message notification.

‘Oh come on!’

[To be fair, it’s already rather late. At least it didn’t happen while you were trying to sneak up on the target.]

‘...Okay, yeah. And I AM pretty hungry. I bet Jon is, too.’

“Er, be with you in a minute,” Lucas tells the now-nearby service bot as he pulls out his phone.

“Of course. Take your time.” The bot busies itself with recovering what it can of the checkout equipment. It brings the various electronics over to a clear space in the drink-mixing section, which had managed to survive the encounter wholly intact.

From MARK (9:48 PM): Finally! Fina and Richie are free! I was thinking either that brick oven place a few blocks away or the noodle shop a few blocks further. They don’t care either way, what about you guys?

From MARK (9:51 PM): HAHAHA! Smashing trash wasn’t good enough for you? You had to find something else to crush?

From MARK (9:51 PM): Wow, you have a lot of viewers.

From MARK (9:59 PM): Whenever you’re done playing, Abe insisted on Pie Palace. See you guys there.

‘...I didn’t even hear it beep before. Heh, guess he found one of the streams... Who the hell is Abe?’

[The first one must have been while Jonathan was playing with his improvised cymbals. The timestamp lines up, now that I consider it. And, it certainly seems like it. Abraham is his uncle. He works at MF’s as one of the enhanced tailors.]

‘How was I supposed to know that!?’

[To be fair, neither of you have given each other proper introductions. It would almost seem strange at this point for him to stop to give a formal introduction when you will get to know each other during the meal.]

‘...Do we really have to go?’

[Do you want to explain to him why you didn’t?]

‘...’

Lucas sighs and butchers his way through a text message before stuffing his cell phone back into his inner suit jacket pocket.

To MARK (10:00 PM): Well be a few minutes

[...Even with autocorrect suggestions you still manage to somehow get it wrong...]

-----

Lucas’s total kills: 9 [+1 Oh good, Boss System made up its mind.]

Lucas’s total deaths: 12

Lucas’s total assists: 1

Lucas’s current GDV: 19.1 [Bzzzt... +1.67 net change]

Lucas’s fame level: 7.0* [+1, The entire brotherhood has become a global viral sensation.]

Lucas's hero suspicion level: 1.0* [-1, Hyper paranoid people will never be completely convinced otherwise.]

Jonathan’s total kills: 8 [+1 Oh, haha, Boss System couldn’t choose, 2 for 1 deal!]

Jonathan’s total deaths: 4

Jonathan’s tot [Oops, took the snapshot too soon, Boss System didn’t finish deleting the unneeded line yet.]

Jonathan’s current GDV: 8.08 [Bzzzt... +1.98 net change]

Jonathan's fame level: 5.5* [+1.5, The entire brotherhood has become a global viral sensation.]

Jonathan's hero suspicion level: 1.5* [-1, Paranoid people will never be completely convinced otherwise.]

Willy's fame level: 5.5* [+0.5, I did say the ENTIRE brotherhood, didn’t I?]

Mr. Quacks’s fame level: 6.0* [+.05, Yes, he’s still more famous than Jonathan.]

Supervillain social circle size: 15

-----

Little character theater:

Jonathan, his mild disappointment at there not being any phones left to snatch forgotten when he notices Miss Calculated, 23, Willy, Mark, Dan, and an unknown man at the late end of middle-aged standing on the front steps of MF’s, chatting with each other. He can’t help muttering to himself: Oh, I guess that text dad got was because the meeting is over...

Willy, tilting his head as he looks up at Miss Calculated when she asks if he’d be willing to spend some time with Miss Masher: Bark!

Lucas’s attention has already drifted to the bakery case again, hopefully scanning for something that looks intact: Yeah, yeah yeah. Who cares, it’s just a text.

427, trying not to groan: [It’s not like it takes any actual effort to at least tap the correct autocorrect prompt!]

Author, grinning at the audience: Ah yes, Pie Palace. The beautiful fictitious lovechild of Cheesecake Factory and Marie Callenders. ...I’d probably insist on going there for dinner, too.

Mr. Quacks and Quackette are already planning on what they want to order at the restaurant. Don’t ask how they already know where they going without even needing to see Lucas’s phone. Their means are beyond our feeble mortal understanding: Quack..?