Sleazy and the bandits raised their knives, twirling it in their hands and showing off their mastery over the weapon. With twenty of them surrounding the lonesome Rebornian driver, they knew that it wouldn't take much pressure to scare him, especially since he was only a Yellow Mankey.
However, they didn't expect the driver to actually give them the keys to the truck so easily.
"Here," he said casually, tossing the keys to Sleazy. "Take them if you dare."
Sleazy's eyebrows narrowed, suspicious as to why this demi-human looked so confident in the face of twenty bandits.
"Open the truck," Sleazy said to his bandits, tossing the keys. In his mind, there was probably a bomb stashed somewhere inside the metal container that would be triggered upon opening. That must have been the reason for the driver's nonchalance.
Once the bandits got ahold of the keys, they quickly rushed over to the truck. However, their excitement quickly died down once they realized they had no idea how to use these keys and where to even put them.
The bandits poked and prodded the key all over the metal vehicle, unsuccessful in all their attempts. After a while, Sleazy got impatient and ordered the driver to personally open the metal container.
"No funny business," he warned the driver.
But the driver had no intention of doing so. He simply looked down at his own shadow, making him feel safe and secured.
He used the keys and opened the back container of the truck, showing the bandits all the products stored inside.
Once Sleazy was sure there were no bombs about to go off, he boarded the truck and marvelled at all the loot he had just taken control of.
There were crates and crates full of shiny, metallic armor devoid of any scratches or dents. Sleazy began going through the crates, inspecting the quality and make of these equipment to see their worth.
His eyes widened as he realized what he held in his fingers. His usually steady hands started to shake with excitement.
The other bandits eventually jumped up onto the truck and saw what Sleazy had been so stunned by.
They began picking up chest plates, boots, and helmets.
"No way… this is…Dwarven make!"
"Not only that…but there's raw Damascus Steel here!"
In the bandits' eyes, this was even better than gold coins. After all, gold coins can be exchanged for anything. However, Dwarven equipment could only be acquired in the black market! And even then, the quantity available there was only a very paltry amount.
Even just a single crate in this truck could only be acquired once a year in the black market. And there were tens of these crates here!
"Looks like we hit the motherlode here boys!" Sleazy exclaimed.
The rest of the bandits cheered and shouted. They began to pick out whatever equipment they fancied, sometimes clashing with other bandits and getting into an argument. Sleazy let them sort their own problems out. This was normal for them.
But then, he noticed that all of them were inside the trucks. No one was outside watching the Rebornian driver.
"You idiots!" Sleazy screamed, rushing out the truck.
But when he looked around, the Yellow HobMankey was nowhere to be found. In the endless flat plains, the driver seemed to have disappeared from thin air without any trace of his presence.
"Where did he go?!" he screamed, his voice echoing back endlessly. There was something suspicious going on.
The other bandits were either too stupid or too greedy to even think of this as a problem. As long as they obtained all these treasures, then they didn't care about a single Yellow Mankey.
"Tsk. Fine, load up all these crates into our carriages," he said to the bandits. "Damn. If only I knew how to drive this thing we wouldn't have to go through all that trouble."
The bandits enthusiastically began to unload all the crates full of Dwarven equipment and Damascus Steel.
But as soon as the first crate landed on the ground, Sleazy suddenly felt the skin on his arms turn up. He sensed the presence of dangerous people.
"You have made a grave mistake. This is property of the Reborn company."
The bandits were startled, immediately dropping the heavy crates back onto the ground. They reached for their knives and brandished it in the air, looking around for the source of that voice.
They realized that there were about ten individuals surrounding them and the truck. They didn't know where they came from. They seemed to have appeared from out of nowhere, unnerving the bandits.
Sleazy squinted his eyes as he recognized the unique faces of these individuals.
"Red Mankeys," he said, chuckling. His demeanor quickly changed from wary to lax in a matter of a few seconds upon figuring out their species.
They wore strange uniforms, but he would recognize that striking red fur anywhere.
"Surrender now and your sentences will be lessened," the Red Mankey said to Sleazy.
"Hahaha, funny joke. I never knew you guys were comedians."
"I am serious," said the Red Mankey. "1st violation: stopping an authorized Reborn vehicle without permission. That's one to two years in prison. 2nd violation: attempting to steal Reborn products. That's 5 years minimum. And 3rd violation, which is the most grievous of all crimes: threatening the life of a Rebornian. That's 15 years in prison."
The bandits looked at the Red Mankeys before, one by one, they began to laugh and jeer at the ridiculous situation they found themselves in.
"HAHAHA! Are you sure you're not comedians?" Sleazy asked, clutching his belly from laughter. "What are you gonna do? There's twenty of us and—one, two, three…ten of you only."
"And that's enough," the Red Mankey muttered.
Sleazy shook his head and gestured for his bandits to attack.
One bandit licked his knife before rushing towards the nearest Red Mankey. He thrusted his knife, aiming for the throat.
Just then, the Red Mankey soldier parried the knife with his own knife, creating sparks in their blades upon collision.
The bandit's eyes widened, not expecting the Mankey to push him back.
Just then, the Red Mankey pushed his weapon upwards, making the bandit lost his grip on his knife.
Before he could even react, the Red Mankey took his hand and twisted it behind his back, making him scream out in pain.
"GRAHH!"
And in a blink of an eye, the bandit felt himself fall to the ground with both of his hands crossed behind his back. He only heard the sound of clinking metal before he found himself cuffed by the Red Mankey.
"One bandit down," he reported.
Two other bandits flanked the Red Mankey from behind, hoping to free their comrade from his grasp.
However, the soldier seemed to have eyes on the back of his head as he ducked and avoided their lunges.
With a swift kick through their legs, the two bandits lost balance and toppled on top of each other.
Before they could get up, they felt their arms twisted into a knot before getting cuffed by the same Red Mankey.
The soldier stepped on top of the stacked bandits and looked at Sleazy.
"Three down."
In one fluid motion, the three bandits were taken down and neutralized.
The bandits stopped laughing. They didn't even see what happened.
But for Michael, who was watching everything unfold from a vantage point on top of a plateau, this was just basic martial arts.
Specifically, this was Krav Maga, a fighting style that he implemented onto the Red Mankey soldiers that increased their knife and grappling skills tremendously.