493: Chapter 17 Late Summer Madness (2)_4 493: Chapter 17 Late Summer Madness (2)_4 Kardesia extinguished her Fireball in surprise and clapped, exclaiming, “Wow, that’s impressive~”
Plastic chairs clattered to the ground in a heap, alongside scattered cookies and cakes that piled onto the unconscious hipsters, making them look even more eccentric.
The scene erupted in a chorus of gasps as a cylindrical robot was knocked over and rolled around broadcasting in a mechanical voice, “The event is being trashed, help needed, help needed.”
A group of members responsible for security immediately grabbed various weapons and rushed over.
The leader, wearing blue and wielding a cane, shouted in a strong local accent, “Trashing the free festival?
Who’s such a lowlife?”
When he focused his gaze, he caught sight of Qin Qianbai’s face.
Memories of yesterday afternoon’s disaster flooded back to him: he and his buddies had just finished tea, all smiles, when a girl suddenly dropped from the rooftop above, her mysterious power destroying his newly bought game console and clothes.
He had only taken a few steps forward when he saw her turn back, and with one punch, it was already evening when he next opened his eyes!
The guy in blue, wielding his cane, was shaking with anger, his body breaking out in cold sweats, rendering him unable to speak clearly, “You, you, you!
Damn it!
This isn’t over?!
You think you’re in the right, huh—ah!”
Before he could finish, Qin Qianbai, enraged by the insult, grabbed a teacup and hurled it at him.
The cheap teacup, worth five yuan at the supermarket, demonstrated an effectiveness beyond that of a flying boulder in the hands of a martial arts expert, hitting the cane-wielding man in blue so hard that he saw stars and passed out without another word.
“The guy with the cane is down, it’s a master!” “Requesting backup at the café!!” “Which organization are you from?!” “Stop right there!!”
The venue descended into chaos, members hoisted their weapons and charged, and Qin Qianbai nonchalantly picked up a dinner knife and slid into the fray.
The other students attending the event knew this scene all too well, realizing that today’s melee had begun; they grabbed their teacups and cakes and bolted.
Kardesia, recalling Gongsun Ce’s warning, quickly followed, “Qin Qianbai, wait for me!”
In the midst of the chaos, a diligently working amateur sumo wrestler had just come out with an oversized coffee pot and snacks, when he was shoved and stumbled, letting out a loud “Gwah!” The massive tray he carried spun into the air, and the array of pastries and the coffee pot streaked across the sky like shooting stars.
President happened to walk into the café at that moment.
The intelligence unit’s eyes widened like bells, and without a second word, they hid behind President, “Damn, these idiots are fighting!
President, for fuck’s sake, protect us!”
“First of all, can you guys stop cursing all the fucking time and show some civility?” President said, “Secondly, shouldn’t you be protecting me at a time like this?”
“President!
Above you!” Cao Hong cried out in terror.
President remained composed, effortlessly reached up with his hands, and the falling pastries neatly landed in a bomb disposal container, truly earning the title of an expert.
He caught the last cookie in his mouth and munched, “Tastes good.”
Cao Hong’s expression grew even more tense, “President, the coffee!!!”
President nodded, “That’s what I’d like to know.
Isn’t this supposed to be a café?
Where’s the coffee?”
At that moment, the last coffee pot let lose, tracing a perfect parabola as it approached the culmination of its brief journey.
The supersize coffee, seemingly determined to assert itself, intended to conclude its short-lived career with a dramatic impact performance.
—It arrived above President’s head, in a rebellious upside-down manner, and amidst the members’ animated expressions, it descended with a clang, landing perfectly upside down on President’s head.
As Cao Hong looked at the soaked school uniform and the coffee pot perched atop his boss’s neck, he spoke with a sentiment akin to ‘the feeling of grief when seeing a fellow creature in misfortune’,
“The coffee is…
on your head.”