Drunks in Distress: Bustling Bar/Brawl Breakout

Mission:

The jingle of bells announced his entrance as Jun Tenkai pushed through the doors and stepped inside. The sheer chaos of the place immediately struck him. Patrons seemed to compete for dominance in the raucous revelry in every corner. The room had become a theater of the absurd. The clashing sounds are a symphony of ugly voices raised in a debauched celebration. The energy of the bar surged as if drunk on laughter. Jun could taste the spirits, the fried food, and the cheap cologne that hung in the air like a low-hanging fog.

Jun pulled the high collar of his black shirt into proper position, the stitched symbol of his clan almost brushing the hasty lights as he moved toward the bar counter. A controlled calm radiated from him in this version of a haywire setting. The menu board behind the bar boasted a dozen different kinds of beer, but Jun wasn't here for a refreshment. His silent entry into the space had been a necessary preamble. He needed to establish that he was someone to be respected here before actually getting down to business.

The harried bartender spotted Jun, her apron a makeshift tray for unserved drinks and demanding hands. "You must be Jun," she exclaimed, relief evident. "Thank goodness you're here. We're swamped tonight."

Jun responded to the bartender's plea with a practiced smile that exuded confidence. "Just point me in the right direction, and I'll handle the rest."

She indicated the bar's farthest reach, where the glasses were piling up faster than they could be washed. "Begin with those, and then dive in wherever you can. And try not to let them rattle you—some gentlemen can be... flamboyant."

Jun acknowledged the chaos and prepared to meet it, shaking off the tension that had gripped his shoulders as he had ensured he had enough to make way for a decent room down the center of the bar. The maddening clamor of voices seemed, thankfully, well-removed from their direct space. Jun could not hear them too distinctly, but they were no distinct voices; they were just a combo of noise and feigned incomprehension.

---

The initial hour was a whirlwind. With precision, Jun went about the business of the bar, his hands a blur as he rinsed glasses, mixed cocktails, and poured pints. He worked with a speed that could only be described as manic, yet he somehow kept an air of serenity that he imagined was necessary for every front-of-house worker who dealt directly with the public. Jun couldn't tell how much of the way he handled himself was part of a learned routine and how much was just natural talent shining through, but it looked good either way.

"Whiskey sour, neat Scotch, and a gin and tonic—on it," he said, his voice calm despite the din of the bar. He poured whiskey into a shaker, adding lemon juice and sugar before giving it a deft shake. The drink landed before the customer, a perfectly balanced concoction that earned an approving nod.

"You're excellent at this," one of the regular bartenders murmured, wiping sweat from his forehead.
Jun lightly shrugged, and a ghost of a smirk played on his lips. "Precision is in the training. Whether it's throwing kunai or mixing cocktails, technique matters."

The bartender let loose a laugh. "Well, ninja, keep it up. We've got about fifty more orders to go before this crowd thins out."

---

Before long, Jun met his first genuine challenge of the evening: a band of rowdy clientele who had taken over a corner of the bar. One of them, a big man with a laugh that could carry across the room, beckoned Jun to come over.
"Hey there, Blondie!" the man called, his speech still slurred but already a couple of notches above normal. "I betcha can't make a drink that looks as good as you do!"

Coming forward, Jun wore his familiar, calm demeanor and asked, "Challenge accepted. What'll it be?"
The man bellowed, slamming a hand on the counter, "Surprise me!"

For a moment, Jun appeared deep in thought before selecting a bottle of spiced rum. He prepared the drink methodically, ensuring that each ingredient was added in just the correct quantity to maintain the balance of flavors for which he was known. When it came time to garnish, he didn't rush, allowing the foam to develop into something that looked and, presumably, tasted like it had come from a well-tended bar. He set the drink down in front of the man.
He took a sip, his eyes widening in delight. "Hot damn! That's good!"
Jun's smile became more profound, though it hardly touched his eyes. "I'm happy you like it. Please take pleasure in it."

As the night stretched out, Jun skillfully maneuvered through the demands of bartending, from managing not-so-pleasant patrons to ensuring everyone paid their bill. When a drink was spilled, Jun handled it with his usual aplomb, seemingly pouring all the efficiency, if not affection, into cleanup he gave to any task. All that time, he brushed with invisible lines of authority as if he were the not-so-ubiquitous but effective enforcer of decorum and civility that bar patrons hoped for but rarely got.

---

When his shift ended, the chaos started to die down. The bar that had once been filled now contained only a few loyal stragglers, their energy subdued, courtesy of the late hour. Jun was leaning against the counter, his golden eyes surveying the room one last time. His fellow bartenders looked equally worn and "happy," but he felt they had all earned that right tonight.
A relieved smile crossed the face of the head bartender as she approached him. "You were an absolute lifesaver tonight, Jun. Don't suppose you'd want to make this place your home kitchen and come work for us on the reg?"

Jun chuckled and shook his head. "It is tempting, but my path lies elsewhere. Besides, I think you will be okay from here on."

She agreed, giving him a diminutive envelope. "So, this is your take for the evening. And just so you know, if ever you come in and need a drink, it's free of charge."

Jun took the envelope and gave it a slight bow. “Thank you. And good luck—this place is one of a kind." he said with a discernible smirk.
With that, Jun turned and left the bar, the brief illumination of the light spilling into the night framing his silhouette. With few around who were likely even to be aware of the message he'd just sent, he had walked away from possibly his last rendezvous at the Swan. Coming back would be a gamble—messing with any of the trio inside would send Jun's path into unnecessary turbulence.

[Exit]

Mission:

The bar's sign, a neon beacon in the twilight, flickered against the gathering darkness, casting long, ominous shadows along the bustling street. Jun Tenkai stood outside, a short but imposing shinobi at 13, with his platinum blonde hair contrasting the dimly lit surroundings. The muffled hum of conversation from within the bar starkly contrasted with the tense atmosphere outside. Jun, the epitome of calm authority, leaned against the sidelight, his eyes scanning the approaching patrons and the companions he was about to guide into the bay behind the bar. A few carefully chosen words could keep the peace tonight, but they were words that might be better left unsaid.

The bar owner, a plump man with a rough and grumble exterior, came out of the entrance, looking neurotic. And it's no wonder! "Jun, I'm glad you're back. Things keep getting worse. Last week, two guys went through the front window. I can't afford to replace another one." This was the bar owner, a man who had known Jun's father for years and trusted his friend's son to keep the peace in his establishment.

Jun's calm gaze, a silent reassurance to the owner, swept the street and the bar's entrance. His eyes seemed to say, I've got this. He didn't need to vocalize his confidence, but he did, for the owner's sake. The owner was by Jun's side, ready to assist if required, feeling reassured by Jun's calm authority.

The owner's warning hung in the air, a palpable sense of impending conflict. "Some usuals. You'll recognize them when you see them—boisterous, inebriated, and brawny. But really, anything could set this lot off."

Jun offered a slight nod and straightened the high collar of his slate-gray flak jacket. "Let's be optimistic and think it doesn't come to that."

--

The bar, a cauldron of mixed aromas and raucous laughter, was a ticking time bomb. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat, and the laughter, though loud, carried an undercurrent of tension. Jun positioned himself near the back wall, eyes scanning the room. The noise level was perfect for eavesdropping, and he was ready to intercept any brewed trouble.

For the first few hours, there were no problems at The Seventh Chamber. Only once did Jun have to step in. The gold gaze that everybody, enemies and friends alike, knew so well was alone in quieting an incident that had the potential to grow loud and rowdy. A drink had been spilled. Some clumsy fingers were nearer to some angry faces than they should have been. Jun put a stop to that careening vehicle of wasted potential. Grumbles ensued, but compliance followed. Jun returned to his patrol.

However, as the evening progressed, the ambiance began to change. The energy in the room became charged but not pleasant. I could sense it from my table. Jun had a front-row seat to all this, and his eyes widened as he took in the scene. The group of men was not just loud; it seemed they were on the verge of something. Their laughter echoed cruelly off the bar's walls, carrying a not-quite-right energy that put everyone on edge. It wasn't hard to put two and two together. The tension in the bar was palpable, and Jun could feel the rising conflict and suspense.

Jun navigated the assemblage carefully, each footfall as quiet as a whisper. He let the throng carry him toward the talk he wanted to overhear.
"You owe me," the large man growled, slamming his fist on the table. "Don't think I've forgotten."

The more petite man recoiled, his voice quaking. "I don't have it. Just give me a bit more time."

Like a tightly stretched wire, the tension snapped. The more prominent man, his face contorted with rage, lunged at the more petite man, his hand seizing the smaller man's collar and hoisting him halfway out of his seat. The table, a precarious balance of glasses and bottles, teetered dangerously, shattering glass echoing through the bar.

--

Without flinching, Jun stepped in and sliced his voice through the bedlam. "That's enough," he commanded.

The more prominent man halted, taken aback by the unexpected manifestation of the figure with platinum hair. This man's friends tightened, judging the situation to see if they should support their pal or keep their noses out. Jun's golden eyes were set to give the man a good stare for as long as it took to make a point: I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not backing down, either.

"Let him go," Jun said, his low tone radiating an unmistakable authority.
The bigger guy sneered and shoved the more diminutive guy back into his seat. "Who the hell do you think you are?"
Jun replied, "Security. And unless you want to spend the night in a cell, I suggest you leave.'"

The sneer deepened on the man, and for a moment, Jun thought he might back down. But then his pride won out. With a roar, he swung a meaty fist toward Jun's face.

Jun sidestepped gracefully, his motions smooth and exact. He caught the man's swinging arm just in time, twisting enough to bring him to his knees without causing him harm. The man howled in frustration, but Jun's swift and precise actions were a testament to his skill and the intensity of the confrontation.

"That's enough," Jun said again, his voice steady even as chaos swirled around him.

The man's friends started to get up but froze under Jun's sharp stare. "Sit down," he ordered, with a tone that allowed for no backtalk.
They were torn between the rescue they contemplated and the uneasy standoff they found themselves in. After a moment's hesitation, they eased back.
The man was freed by Jun, and he hastily stood up, still rubbing his wrist, and shot Jun a look that could kill. "This isn't done," he said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, it is," Jun replied determinedly. "You are leaving. Now."

With grumbling curses spoken too low to be heard, the man stormed toward the exit, his companions tailing him like well-behaved puppies. Jun watched them go, allowing tension to leave his muscles but not his eyes, which remained acutely aware of any movement around him. He knew better than to let his guard down until the group had turned the corner and was completely out of sight.

--

Once the troublemakers were gone, the bar patrons erupted in applause and cheers. Jun gave a small acknowledgment but didn't want to become the center of attention. He turned and refocused on the more petite man, who was shaken.

"Are you all right?" Jun inquired, his voice dropping into a near whisper.

The man nodded unsteadily. "Y-yeah. Thanks. I don't know what would happen if you hadn't stepped in."

"People like that are best avoided," Jun said. "And if you owe anything, pay it what you can when you can, and the moment you can't pay for anything else, pay this first."

The man nodded again, murmuring his thanks before he rushed out of the bar.
The night passed without any significant incidents, none of which needed Jun's intervention. When the last patron stumbled outside, and we finally had some peace, the owner came over. I could tell he was relieved and grateful.

"You managed that with so much more grace than I ever could have," he said, giving Jun a quick clap on the shoulder. "I really can't thank you enough."
A small smile was offered by Jun. "Just doing the job," was what he said.

The owner handed him an envelope heavier than the ones he received from his bartending shifts. "Here's your payment," the owner said. "And if you're ever looking for work, you've got a place here."
Jun nodded and slipped the envelope into his jacket. "Thanks. I'll keep it in mind," he said.

That accomplished, Jun exited into the cool morning air. The street was now tranquil, the night's bedlam behind him. He adjusted his collar as he moved away, and in the very first light of dawn, his golden eyes quietly reflected the peace of having completed a not-so-easy mission.

[Exit]

Claims from Bustling Bar:

Claims from Brawl Breakout:

TWC: 2,491

• 1500/1500 towards Wind Release: Vacuum Wave [v7]
  
• 1000 (767+233 from Frozen Pilgrimage)/1500 towards Shadow Clone [v7]
  
• Remaining 224 WC towards Soft Physique Modification
  
• Mission Rewards Claim: 3,500 Ryo / 17 AP
  
• Stat Claim: 20 stat points to Strength (15 to 35) / four stat points towards Chakra (22 to 26)