Rick turned towards the direction of the sound and saw four massive security guards rushing towards him carrying heavy batons.
And behind the guards, a fat, old man in an expensive but poorly fitted grey suit stormed out of the elevator. He was sweating heavily, wiping his forehead with a silk handkerchief.
"What in the hell is going on down here?!" The man’s loud obnoxious voice echoed in the lobby.
"Dolund!" Tristan whined pathetically from the floor, spitting a tooth onto the marble, "You fat idiot, hurry up and help me! He attacked me! This bastard just attacked me!"
Dolund’s eyes widened as he looked at the guy bleeding on the floor, "What the hell?!"
"Who did this?" His face twisted into a mask of absolute fury. His eyes darted from one person to another before finally stopping at Rick who was standing right beside the thrashed guy.
"You did this? You savage little piece of trash!" Dolund spat, pointing a fat, shaking finger at Rick. He looked at the four security guards, "What are you imbeciles doing?"
"Don’t just stand there! Catch him and break both of his legs and throw him into the alley!"
The four guards raised their batons and stepped forward, forming a tight circle around Rick.
Rick didn’t look scared. He didn’t even look bothered. A dark, wicked smirk stretched across his face.
"Are you sure about that, fatty?" Rick asked calmly.
With a quick mental command, Rick opened his system inventory. He targeted the glowing purple card sitting in his digital vault.
[Activate Item: Mischief’s Touch (Epic)]
[Duration: 1 Hour]
Rick’s fingertips instantly tingled. A faint, invisible wave of chaotic energy surged into his hands.
The first guard lunged forward, swinging his heavy baton aimed straight for Rick’s ribs.
Rick side-stepped effortlessly, his system-enhanced reflexes kicking in. He raised his right hand and casually slapped the guard open-palmed directly on the chest.
The slap sent the guard stumbling back, and the guard tipped over Tristian’s crooked leg and ended up falling on his butt.
Just then a second guard got close to Rick and swung his baton to hit him in the head.
Rick ducked under the second guard’s swinging arm and tapped him lightly on the shoulder, "Hey! Don’t be so angry. I am not trying to hurt you,"
Amd with that Rick spun around making some distance between him and the second guard and in the process dodged the third and fourth guards, and swiftly poked both of them directly in the stomach.
It took less than two seconds. Four simple touches.
"Grab him and pin him down!" Dolund yelled, his face purple with rage.
But suddenly none of the guards moved as he wanted.
Dolund looked at them, and found the four guards standing still with their eyes wide open and an expression of utmost shock and disbelief as viens popped all across their faces.
The effect of the Mischief’s Touch on the male body was instantaneous and absolutely horrifying.
The first guard froze dead in his tracks. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. A loud, wet, violently bubbling sound erupted from his stomach.
The sphincter muscles of all four men completely gave out at the exact same time.
Pbbbbbbt!
A loud, ripping fart echoed through the silent, luxurious lobby.
The first guard dropped his baton. It clattered loudly on the marble. He grabbed his ass cheeks with both hands, his face turning a sickening shade of pale green. "Oh sweet mother of god... Please no..."
The second guard crossed his legs so tightly his knees knocked together. Sweat poured down his face in buckets, "I... I can’t hold it! Oh God! I can’t!"
"Toilet! Move out of the way!" the third guard screamed. He didn’t even care about his job or his pride. He dropped his weapon and started waddling away at top speed, desperately clutching his backside as a dark, wet stain began to rapidly spread down the back of his grey trousers.
The fourth never even made it that far. He simply dropped to his knees in the middle of the lobby, sobbing openly.
A hush fell over the guests in the lobby too shocked, too curious, or too slow to flee. They stood frozen, hands over their noses, staring at the four guards who had, only moments ago, been the picture of professional intimidation.
Rick turned slowly, surveying the scene like a man regarding a particularly unfortunate painting. Then he raised his voice; calm, clear, and laced with the solemn gravity of a funeral oration.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "I must ask something of you all. Please... do not laugh. Do not point. Do not record this tragedy for the amusement of strangers.
"These four fine men... These are the pillars of security. The guardians of order..."
"And they have simply... experienced a moment of profound intestinal scrutiny."
"Look upon them with kindness, and nothing else..."
"So I beg you... Spare them your laughter. Spare them your judgment. For today, these men have taught us all a valuable lesson: even the strongest walls... can spring a leak."
As Rick finished speaking, he was standing beside the first guard, who was still standing, both hands clamped white-knuckled on his rear.
"This too will pass," Rick said and gave the man’s shoulder a light, almost friendly slap.
But the moment his palm made contact, every remaining dam inside the guard broke at once.
A long, wet, shuddering PBBBBBBBBT tore out of him, followed by a sudden, catastrophic release that filled his trousers in a single, irreversible rush.
The guard’s eyes fluttered half-shut. His shoulders dropped. A look of pure, almost spiritual relief washed across his face, as though years of tension had finally left his body.
He stood there swaying slightly, pants ruined beyond all hope, expression serene.
The lobby reacted as one.
A collective, horrified gasp rose from the remaining guests. Hands flew to noses. Someone near the front desk actually staggered backward. The smell, already biblical, surged to apocalyptic.
The blonde escort gagged so hard she abandoned her crab-walk, bolted through the revolving doors, and never looked back, leaving Tristan bleeding alone on the floor.
Dolund stood frozen, staring at his elite security team as they turned the marble lobby into a biohazard zone.
"What... what the fuck did you do to them?!" he shrieked, backing away like Rick had just deployed a chemical weapon.
"Who the fuck are you?!"