CHAPTER 33: CHAPTER 33: BRAWLING AND GETTING DETAINED

Natalie Vaughn wasn’t planning to intervene, but the other side had about twenty people, all holding clubs, while Lawson’s side had only ten people, including two women who couldn’t even fight a chicken.

Those two women had already run off in fear, and Lawson didn’t look very pleased, but they couldn’t run, and definitely couldn’t act cowardly.

People like them lived to show off and fight for pride.

Bang, tables and chairs got overturned, beer bottles shattered everywhere, and the two groups immediately started to fight. The other guests also ran away, leaving only Natalie Vaughn’s table.

Natalie Vaughn calmly drank her glass of milk. She didn’t turn around to look at the fight, and Zane Thorne sat with a casual expression, occasionally eating a skewer.

Five minutes in, Lawson’s group was already struggling; they had no weapons and could only use chairs and table legs to resist.

How could those compare to iron clubs?

Natalie Vaughn finished her milk and silently counted time in her head, but still didn’t hear Lawson asking for help. Natalie thought, Lawson still hasn’t changed; he’d rather suffer alone than call her for help.

After all, they were people she led during high school, and Natalie couldn’t completely ignore them.

She slowly rolled up her sleeves and looked at Zane Thorne with a smile.

"Now let me show you the skills of a school bully."

With that, Natalie immediately put away her smile, her dark eyes turning cold.

"Hey."

Natalie spoke lightly, looking at the group fighting.

Her voice wasn’t loud, and it didn’t catch attention, so Natalie kicked a chair over, accurately hitting the other side’s leader.

The fighting stopped.

Lawson had been hit with a club, his right hand already broken. He looked at Natalie and inhaled sharply.

"Don’t get involved."

He didn’t call her boss to avoid dragging Natalie in.

The other group’s leader touched the back of his head, which had been hit, and spit out some water.

"Mind your own damn business."

But Natalie was determined to intervene.

She glanced at the other group’s leader and then looked at Lawson.

"Do you still acknowledge me as your boss?"

Lawson said nothing.

The other group’s leader heard this and couldn’t help but laugh.

"Boss? Hahaha, Dylan Lawson, you found a chick as a boss? How useless are you?"

Lawson could tolerate others looking down on him but couldn’t bear someone looking down on Natalie.

"You bastard."

He picked up a table leg and swung it at the man.

Three people immediately surrounded Dylan Lawson, swinging clubs at him without holding back.

Natalie’s eyes flashed with fierceness, and she quickly rushed to Dylan Lawson’s side, dealing with those three. Her movements were fast, her kicks strong, and those three were knocked to the ground, struggling to get up.

The other group’s leader squinted and sneered.

"You’ve got some moves, but let’s see if your hands and feet are better than my iron club."

Natalie pressed her lips together and helped Lawson stand up.

"Just the same as always."

Lawson winced, finding it hard to even smile.

"Boss, be careful, they all have weapons."

Natalie wasn’t foolish; fighting clubs with bare hands was asking for trouble. She was skilled in observing and dodging, but with so many opponents, the clubs had no mercy.

As she contemplated, the other side already rushed over. Natalie reached out, grabbed the assailant’s wrist, twisted it behind him, then kicked him away, bending down to pick up a club.

Different from training and sparring in a dojo, fighting outside she used swift and precise moves to beat the enemy back.

But with too many opponents, Lawson’s group was severely injured, even Natalie found it challenging.

Having just eaten, moving caused her stomach to ache intensely. Natalie furrowed her brows, instinctively pressing her stomach, and just then, two opponents swung at her.

Natalie gritted her teeth, dodging one, reaching out to strike his wrist, while the second man’s club swung towards her head.

"Boss, watch out!"

Natalie endured the sharp stomach pain and raised her hand, but her movements were sluggish, it was too late.

Thud—

A muffled sound.

Natalie looked up in confusion; it was Zane Thorne.

The blow was blocked by Zane Thorne using his arm.

Natalie couldn’t fathom how Zane Thorne had managed to rush over from there, that sound alone was agonizing.

Yet he remained unfazed, not even flinching, as he pulled Natalie into his embrace, lowering his head to say quietly.

"Stand aside and wait."

With that, Zane Thorne took the club from her hand.

Unlike Natalie, Zane Thorne showed no mercy, each strike aimed at the opponent’s weakest spots, his ruthlessness made hearts tremble, fearing a single blow could be fatal.

Just like racing, he fought recklessly.

Blocking a club with his hand, he swung the club at the opponent’s head.

Natalie stood aside, watching with fear. This fighting style easily led to fatalities, yet Zane Thorne’s actions grew increasingly fierce, his eyes cold, not even acknowledging the situation.

It seemed like these were insignificant matters to him.

The wind picked up, as if celebrating.

Natalie suddenly remembered Quentin Donovan’s words about constantly bandaging Zane Thorne’s wounds.

Quentin Donovan was carefree and acted like a hooligan, yet he had been friends with Zane Thorne for a long time.

So, was Zane Thorne a skillful fighter in the past too?

Natalie blinked, not thinking further, watching Zane Thorne taking down opponents one by one. He was tall, strong, and ruthless, those people weren’t his match at all.

Lawson got a moment to move to Natalie’s side.

"Boss, is your boyfriend really a gang member?"

Natalie felt uneasy, knowing this fight would definitely lead them to the police station. Her brows furrowed, not wanting Zane Thorne involved.

"Dylan Lawson."

"Hmm?"

"Next time, get a decent job."

Dylan Lawson was silent for a long, long time.

Until the police car arrived, he finally spoke.

"Boss, I’ll listen to you."

...

At the police station, Zane Thorne and Natalie sat together, being questioned by the police. It was a major brawl incident, and the station was busy.

The officer responsible for them was Captain Damian Quinn, who happened to be free.

Natalie found him familiar, stared for a while, but couldn’t recall who he was.

Damian hadn’t spoken when Director Doyle arrived.

"Hey, Director Doyle, what brings you here?"

Director Doyle didn’t respond to him, following behind with an arrogant silver hair, who else but Quentin Donovan?

Quentin Donovan looked at the seated pair, raising his eyebrows.

"You guys really made a splash, fighting your way into the station."

Zane Thorne didn’t bother to spare him a glance.

Quentin Donovan then turned to Natalie.

"Nina, are you hurt?"

Natalie shook her head.

Upon hearing this name, Captain Quinn raised his eyes to look at Natalie.

"Director Doyle, I haven’t even questioned them yet, and you’re letting them go?"

Director Doyle glared at him.

"Why are you, someone in charge of criminal affairs, meddling here?"

Damian’s lips curved into a smile.

"I’m a good cop serving the people."