I Was Sent Into A Shitty Urban Novel

Lucious clenched his fists as the man in the charcoal suit stepped forward, his sneer deepening, eyes burning red with fury.

"You screwed me out of fifty grand, you piece of trash."

The words echoed off the brick walls of the alley behind the café. The city noise—horns, footsteps, distant sirens—faded into a distant hum, muffled by the tension curling through the narrow corridor. This was no casual threat. This was anger sharpened to a point.

Lucious stood his ground, posture still but wired. His heartbeat thudded in his ears, each beat syncing with the options flashing through his mind.

Fight? Maybe.

Run? Pointless.

Talk? Risky—but it might buy time.

"I didn’t screw you out of anything," Lucious said, voice steady, almost bored. "I stopped you from scamming a man who didn’t deserve it."

"Oh, you stopped me?" the man repeated, laughter harsh and bitter. "You’re just a delivery boy with a loud mouth and dumb luck. And now you’re about to find out what that costs."

He snapped his fingers.

Two men emerged from the shadows, one from behind a dumpster, the other from an alcove halfway down the alley. One carried a crowbar. The other cracked his knuckles with slow, deliberate menace.