Forrest didn't hesitate. Though, in his entire life, he had never imagined he would find himself in a fistfight with a bunch of strip-mall scammers.
He had been raised on elite sports—fencing, equestrianism, and golf. He had zero experience in a chaotic, undignified brawl.
But none of that mattered right now.
He lunged into the fray, grabbing a salesman who was yanking on an old man's collar. As he pulled the scammer away, another employee charged him from the side, throwing a wild punch. Forrest instinctively blocked it, but the force of the blow caught his arm, and with a sharp rip, his custom-tailored sleeve tore open.
Forrest didn't even flinch. He grabbed the man's wrist, twisted, and shoved him hard into a display rack. His bodyguards tried to swarm him to protect him, but he barked an order.
"Don't worry about me! Find Loyce and the older ladies! Keep them safe, and don't let anyone lay a finger on them!"
The bodyguards scattered to form a perimeter around the women.
Though Forrest wasn't a street fighter, his intense gym regimen and private combat training gave him power and reflexes far beyond the average person. But the chaos was overwhelming. A plastic stool came flying through the air; Forrest dodged it, but crashed into a shelf, sending jars of fake supplements shattering to the floor and dusting his expensive suit in white powder.
His perfectly styled hair fell across his forehead, and a smudge of dirt streaked across his cheek.
Loyce, on the other hand, was moving with lethal precision. She slipped through the crowd, targeting anyone trying to hurt the elderly. Within seconds, she had dropped three scammers and firmly positioned herself in front of Marcella and Zelie, fully shielded by the bodyguards.
"Police! Nobody move!"
Just as the fighting hit its peak, the police finally swarmed the store. The blaring sirens and booming commands instantly froze the room. Realizing it was over, the scammers dropped their products and made a break for the exits, only to be tackled and handcuffed one by one.

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