Newly Broke Heroine!

Ch. 17: But I Didn't Get A Flashy Transformation Scene!

Fiona took great pleasure in the fact that these guys made it easy, where the attackers could only come at them from effectively two directions. So, dealing with Rock should be easy, when she tossed the coin purse with the gentlest of tosses--and it screamed at him like a rocket.

He must never have realized how much this was going to hurt, because the coin impacted like a fist of the north star, and he was sent reeling into the wall a few meters away, cracking the brownstone bricks. he collapsed on the ground, wheezing.

That was going to leave a bruise in the morning. The second and third guy jumped into the fray with a burst of magical speed–these guys were not so dum-dums after all, and taking out the leader clearly didn't crush morale. She grappled with the catfolk, wishing she had the biggest water gun of all time to put this little furball in his place!

Greg beside her was grappling with the other assailant, using fisticuffs to punch, lurch to the side of a particularly nasty short sword, and dodge the following strike with grace. Greg wasn't strong, but he was limber, and quickly disarmed the woman before smacking her into the nearby wall, dazing her. He brought a Jackie Chan level of grace to the fight, grabbed a trash lid from a nearby refuse pile, and bashed her with it, the lid making a distinct gong sound. And, he even had time to adjust his tie, too!

Ties were not meant for street fighting at all, no matter how cool they looked. The catfolk tried to slash at her, and she lurched to the right, forcing his hand wide and running his claws against the wall in an ear-grating sound of nails on a brickboard. Everyone winced, as did the cat, who now was properly declawed. She landed a solid kick to give space, then shifted the coins to her palm. "Hey, I think I overpaid for these services! Nah you know what, this is my money-back guarantee!"

She flung the gold coins like tiny little coiniukens, hitting the catfolk in the chest, the nose, his jaw, and another one in the torso, doubling him over and causing him to wheeze, on the ground and at her utter mercy. "Greg, how are you doing over there?"

"The situation is handled," he said stiffly, before he glared accusingly at a torn collar. "Though, my attire has suffered some consequence."

All three assailants were down, and Fiona leaned down at the man grabbing his chest, looking nonplussed. "Look Rock, your services are kinda sucky. Don't they teach you that crime doesn't pay?"

"Oh, got a feisty one, do we?" he glared back up, and whistled with his fingers. "Okay boys, got ourselves one elf who can't shut her trap, so let's up the difficulty, shall we?"

Half a dozen more assailants came in through a second-floor balcony like ninjas. But she was in a fantasy world, why were ninjas here? She had to admit, they still stood no chance against her.

She grabbed some of the coins from her now-busted purse, and eyed them all with disgust. "Look creeps, this is getting awkward, like the door-to-door used car salesman. Go with peace, young folk! Or you know, get stomped on by me. Your call."

"Um...is that..." one young man no more than mid-teens gasped and pointed at her. "You idiots! That's the hero of Fiefdala! Hell with this, I'm going home and going back to school!"

"Uh–I uh–I forgot a very important appointment!" another girl stammered before darting back the same way the first kid came. Thus began a deluge of excuses of 'It was a dare, they made me do it!' to someone leaving their automaton running, and they totally took a wrong turn down the alley looking for a bathroom.

She knew the score: the only three too stupid to continue were the ones picking themselves off the ground, now standing shoulder to shoulder. "Ket, let's just kill her," the catfolk snarled. He had several coin-sized welts forming on his face, and he rubbed at his nose.