The Last Thunder
Settling on something, he wrote it on the paper prepared on the table before springing up to the counter to order.
When the fat man left the booth, someone entered the restaurant. It was a man with dark hair and a scar on his face. The man’s orange eyes scanned the place for his friend, and he immediately walked to the fourth booth on the right, then he threw a bundle of cloth on the table.
The skinny man was startled and instantly looked at him with a serious face. “Hey you—Oh, it’s you, Hayate.”
The man with a scar on his face, Hayate, sat down across him. “Here, give it to your uncle.”
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