In an exceptionally clean room,
a large screen, a sofa, and two people.
One of them had a pale face marked by dark circles under his eyes and a frail figure—he was the small-time thug intent on taking revenge on everyone at the café.
The other person was not yet 40, of average build, with thinning hair and skin so delicate it didn't seem masculine, small eyes conveying a sense of the guy-next-door. At first glance, no one would guess that this man was the murderous "Bill."
At this moment, he was blankly watching a small surveillance monitor on the screen. He had just seen the little girl turn her back to the monitor, fiddling with something unknowingly, then suddenly pulling out a fire axe. Moments later, it appeared she also grabbed a katana, and finally handed a pipe wrench to that fat geek...
"What kind of people are these...?" he asked faintly.
The legs of the thug standing behind him trembled, "They... they are just ordinary people."