Cel sighed deeply, the knockout-move would make the thug woozy for a few minutes after regaining consciousness. He could pass him off as a drunk that tried to mug hum. Though he didn't relish the thought of going back to the police after he had just ran from them. He saw a nearby, old bottle of beer. Glancing around to make sure no-one was listening, he slumped him against the wall in a sitting position, took the gun, and crushed it into a little ball in his hand, then pushed the bottle into the unconscious mugger's hand. A mischevious smirk came across his face as he headed back out into the street.
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