Gunshots rang out from below, aimed at Malika's flying carpet.

  Brittany's eyes widened, and Malika, who was flying the carpet, swiftly maneuvered it in the air to avoid the flying bullets.

  Malika grunted with annoyance, her temper flaring up. "Goddammit, we're surrounded by mobsters!"

  Brittany, unfazed as usual, chuckled in excitement. "Oh, hell yeah! Now it's party time, bitches! Let's rock! Mal, take this damn carpet to the ground, It's time to get jiggy!”

  The other members of the group tensed, anticipating the upcoming conflict as Malika reluctantly descended the carpet to the ground.

  Malika grumbled in a tone that could light anything ablaze. "Sometimes, I wonder why we have to keep you, Britt."

  Brittany grinned at her boss with a cheeky twinkle in her eyes. "Aww, Mal, you know you love me."

  Malika rolled her eyes, unable to deny the truth, albeit grudgingly. "Hmph, yeah, yeah, whatever. You're damn hard to hate, ya know that?”

  The others chuckled faintly at the exchange between Brittany and Malika, accustomed to their banter at this point.

  Once the carpet had touched down, the entire group leaped off the aerial vehicle, prepared to face the awaiting enemy. Their eyes scanned the surroundings, their senses on high alert.

  "Who's there?" Brittany called out, her playful tone laced with readiness. "Show yourselves, ya scaredy-cats!”

  A few members of the mob emerged from the foliage among the hills, surrounding the Imago Cabal with their weapons at the ready. The mobsters didn't look like the usual goons the squad had confronted. These men were muscular and serious with a determined glint in their eyes.

  One of the mobsters, donning lots of jewelry, stepped forward, his voice laced with authority. "Well, well, look who we have here…”

  Malika, her stance ready, gazed at the mobsters with a sharp and scrutinizing gaze. "Great, it's another bunch of morons in matching outfits," she remarked sarcastically. "You guys really gotta update your fashion sense. Black just ain't your color."

  Brittany, as usual, added her own two cents. "Maybe they're all about that emo lifestyle! I mean, they're all dressed in black like it's the damn night already!" She snickered at her own quip.

  The mobster, unfazed by their comments, raised an eyebrow, his demeanor cool and collected. "Funny, funny," he replied with a deadpan tone. "You've got quite the sense of humor for a bunch who just stumbled into the wrong side of town. But who am I to judge the fashion choices of a bunch of vagrants like you?"

  Malika, not one to back down from a verbal spar, retorted with her signature confidence, "We're not just any vagrants, you know.”

  The mobster smirked in amusement, clearly enjoying the exchange. "Oh really? Well, that's news to me. What are ya then, a group of lost tourists?" He jeered.

  Brittany chimed in with a mischievous grin, unable to resist jumping in the conversation. "I'd say we're like the most badass posse of badass motherfuckers in the world!”

  The mobster chuckled condescendingly, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, you're quite the comedian, huh?" he replied to Brittany. "Badass posse of badasses, huh? That's a helluva boast for a bunch of nobodies."

  Lotte, with her flat demeanor, interjected into the conversation. "And who might you be to judge us? You and your merry band of goons are hardly angels yourself.”

  The mobster's smirk grew wider, a hint of arrogance in his tone. "Oh, we're not angels, and we don't claim to be. We're just the people who run things here. And right now, you're in our territory, and you're messing with our plans."

  Malika's expression hardened, her patience wearing thin with the mobster's bold claim. "Oh, is that so?" she retorted, her voice laced with a challenge. "And what kind of 'plans' are you and your gang of thugs cooking up, hmm?”

  The mobster chuckled again, his smirk never faltering. "Our plans are our business, and we ain't obliged to spill the beans to the likes of you, sweetheart. But one thing you should know: we don't take kindly to uninvited guests who mess with our affairs."

  Brittany, unable to contain herself, chimed in again. "Oh, and what're you gonna do about it, huh?" she asked, feigning bravado. "Throw a tantrum like a bunch of brats?”

  The mobster's eyes narrowed at Brittany, his patience waning with her constant interruptions. "You're pretty bold, aren't you, little lady?" he responded, his tone laced with an undercurrent of irritation. "You might want to learn some respect before running that big mouth of yours."

  Lotte, however, remained unfazed by the mobster's threat. "Respect is earned, not demanded," she stated bluntly, her voice cool and collected. "And from where I stand, you haven't exactly demonstrated anything worth respecting.”

  The mobster's irritation heightened at Lotte's dismissive response, his gaze hardening. "You've got some nerve, you know that, doctor lady?" he hissed out through clenched teeth. "Don't let your degree give ya an ego and getcha smashed on the spot!"

  Lotte, not missing a beat, shot back with the same cold, detached voice, "It's not a good thing to judge based on appearances alone. And for the record, I made it through college selling grits.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  The mobster's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected response, obviously caught off guard. "You what?" he exclaimed, dumbfounded.

  Brittany, on the other hand, let out a burst of laughter, unable to contain her amusement. "Wait, wait, wait, hol' up! Did I hear that right? She sold grits to pay for college? What kinda badassery is that?!”

  Lotte, unfazed by their reactions, replied simply, her voice still unperturbed. "You heard right. Grits are a staple food in Zoltabar. It was an effective way to earn supplemental income while juggling academic responsibilities."

  The mobster, still caught off guard by Lotte's revelation, struggled to regain his composure. "Grits, of all things," he mumbled to himself, still baffled by the whole affair.

  Malika couldn't help but chuckle at the entire exchange. "That's our Lotte for ya. Always surprising everyone with her random facts.”

  The mobster shook his head, finally managing to regain his bearings, and his smirk returned. "Well, look at that. We got ourselves a pretty bookworm, huh?"

  Brittany, still on a roll with the jokes, chimed in again. "Hey, bookworms need some lovin' too, you know?"

  Malika, however, rolled her eyes at her teammates, her patience wearing thin. "Focus, you two. This ain't a stand-up comedy contest, for cryin' out loud.”

  The mobster, still amused by the banter, couldn't help but play along. "Well, I've got to hand it to ya, your team's got quite the colorful bunch of characters."

  He crossed his arms, a smirk on his face. "But let's cut to the chase here. We ain't got all day, and we don't take kindly to trespassers, especially when they're messing with our business."

  Malika, regaining her focus and determination, met the mobster's gaze firmly, her voice laced with a no-nonsense tone. "And what is this business of yours?"

  The mobster pointed at Gabrielle, more specifically, the pair of gauntlets in her hands. "So we're just gonna conveniently forget y'all just stole that shit from the auction, eh? We ain't leavin' without it.”

  Malika's eyes widened momentarily as the mobster pointed out their 'stolen' gauntlets. After a brief moment of surprise, her expression hardened, and a defiant glint appeared in her eyes. "So that's what you're after, huh? Sorry to burst your bubble, but these gauntlets are rightfully ours. We've been after them for a while now, and nobody's stopping us from taking what's rightfully ours."

  The mobster smirked skeptically. "Oh, is that right? And what makes you think you have the right to lay claim to that item?"

  "Because they belong to me," Gabrielle spoke up, her gaze stern as she put on the gauntlets, making her already imposing appearance even more so.

  The mobster smirked at the sight of Gabrielle, crossing his arms before saying. "Aha, look who we have here, Gabrielle Crn?evi?! You made quite the reputation for yourself in your gang back in the day.”

  Gabrielle shot him an icy glare, her eyes narrowing at his remark. "Yeah, what about it?" she retorted, her voice laced with a hint of defensiveness. "You got something to say about me?”

  The mobster chuckled, his smirk never fading. "Oh, nothing much, just recalling some fond memories."

  Gabrielle clenched her jaw, her irritation with the mobster growing with each passing minute. "Fond memories, huh? That's a funny way to put it," she grumbled, obviously not amused by his remarks.

  Malika, sensing the rising tension, stepped in, attempting to divert the conversation and keep things from escalating further. "Enough of this banter. We're not giving you those gauntlets, and that's final.”

  The mobster's smirk turned into a scowl, his patience wearing thin. "You really think you're in any position to make demands?" he retorted, his tone laced with hostility. "I've got a whole gang of heavily-armed men surrounding you, and you're outnumbered, sweetheart. So maybe you should reconsider your position right now."

  Lotte remained unfazed, her voice cool and matter-of-fact. "Being outnumbered hasn't stopped us yet.”

  The mobster's annoyance flared further at Lotte's nonchalant tone, his eyes narrowing. "Bold words, lady. But you got no idea what you're up against here."

  Brittany, unable to stay quiet any longer, couldn't resist chiming in. "We're pretty used to playing the underdog, and we always come out on top," she quipped, her sassy attitude shining through. "But whatevs, we're game. So guys, who's gonna kick these guys' asses?"

  Vilho looked over at Gabrielle, taking a moment to consider before suggesting, "Gabrielle should. She just got her gauntlets back, and she needs to get used to using them again."

  Lotte slowly nodded in agreement, adding, "Vilho has a point. Not using Void Magic abilities or skills for a long time can result in a Void Mage forgetting them, so one must train in order to keep them.”

  Gabrielle glanced from Vilho to Lotte, acknowledging their points. Despite her nonchalance to the situation, she reluctantly agreed, realizing the necessity of training. "I suppose you guys are right. I guess I could use some target practice," she sighed, adjusting the gauntlets on her arms.

  The mobster, however, was not pleased with this turn of events. "You're actually planning on giving a show for us, huh? You really think you can take on my whole gang on your own?”

  Gabrielle met the mobster's gaze, her expression hardening. "I won't know until I try, I guess," she retorted, determination in her voice. She flexed her gloved hand, feeling the familiar power surging through it.

  The mobster smirked at Gabrielle's confidence, his tone snarky. "Good luck with that, babe, you're gonna need it. My boys ain't gonna pull any punches.”

  Gabrielle rolled her eyes at his words, not appreciating the condescending nickname he used. "I don't need your damn luck. I'll be fine," she retorted, her expression remaining unyielding. "And I don't expect you or your boys to pull any punches. I've dealt with tougher nuts to crack."

  Brittany, still with her feisty spirit, couldn't resist commenting, "Ooh, shots fired! Someone's feeling feisty today!”

  Gabrielle shot a sharp look at Brittany, her eyes narrowing at her friend's playful remark. "You know, sometimes I question why I put up with you," she muttered, her voice laced with a hint of irritation.

  Brittany grinned cheekily, seemingly immune to Gabrielle's glare. "You love me and you know it," she replied with a wink.

  Gabrielle rolled her eyes, a faint smile playing at the corner of her lips. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," she grumbled, her irritation giving way to amusement. "Just try not to get in my way when the fun starts."

  With that, Gabrielle stepped off of the carpet and stood right before the man. Her height, bulky frame, and fierce gaze all contributed to her intimidation factor as she stared down at him.

  The mobster, though initially intimidated by Gabrielle's size and demeanor, regained his cool facade and smirked at her. "You know you're pushin’ your luck, babe. You're outnumbered, standing right in the middle of my territory, and you think you can just strut around acting tough?"

  Brittany, seeing this exchange, couldn't resist egging Gabrielle on a bit more, calling out, "Get his ass, girl!”

  Gabrielle shot Brittany a quick glare, silently warning her to shut up. She then shifted her gaze back to the man before her, her expression hardening as she alerted her fellow Cabal members, "You guys may want to go to the hills and watch from afar, 'cause it's about to get real messy.”

  The Cabal members looked at each other with anticipation in their eyes. Malika said, "You got this, Gab?"

  Gabrielle gave them a reassuring nod, her gaze softening slightly. "Yeah, I got this. Just go watch from a safe distance."

  "Alright then. Show ‘em what you're made of.”