"Yeah, we'll go in there and teach them a lesson." You agreed.

"Is there, you know, anything I should know about them?" Mel inquired.

You gave her a brief rundown on what you knew of the Drag On Gang, with Cattleya mentioning of how they were easily frightened of you when finding out you were a Savant.

"Alright," Mel said "Knowing that, how should we-"

"Let's just kick their shit in." Cattleya interrupted your quarter-fae wife. "Show 'em a roight proper kicking with wot we got, eh guv?"

"I'm down for it." You said, with the frustration of not getting to fight earlier now getting replaced with energy from the idea of fighting the Drag On Gang today. Man, it's been a while since you've seen them. You wondered what the hell they were doing here anyway. "Just make sure the situation is under my control."

"You can count on me, Master!"

"Let's give it a bash, guv."

The three of you burst into Cinnamon Inn with energy with just enough energy to not literally burst down the door. Though you startled the people in there you get everyone's attention, including the troublemakers. Which was the plan all along.

A few customers and employees watched the proceedings, with one of them looking particularly curious, but that wasn't important now. The three familiar faces of Biggy, Smalls, and Boss were now in your view. They had cornered a woman with mouse ears.

It was this very same mouse girl, whose name you hadn't bothered asking, who had presented you with the blueprint artifact that could hold various drawings and designs (you really needed to give that thing a shorter name), courtesy of your wives and their pooling of the money you gave them (and a well-timed sale on the artifact). You also saw her every once in a while as she served meals and swept the floor. Hardly one for speaking, she now looked at you with some degree of hope.

"Hey, what the-" The guy with the pink Mohawk, Boss, turned at the sudden interruption. His eyes widened in recognition. "Holy shit, it's that Savant and his catgirl again! What're you doin' here?"

"I should be the one asking that." You said.

"Thinking on messing with us?" Smalls, the giant, seemed less apprehensive this time around for some reason as he pounded a fist into an open palm.

"Depends. Thinking about tearing this place apart for no reason?" You countered.

"We have good reasons! Legit ones," Said the Boss. "We was just giving some helpful criticisms here. Just like we was just gatherin' taxes before— until you messed it all up!"

"Alright." You said. "Let's assume that's true. Who were you collecting taxes for?"

"The Bandit Ki-" The giant, Smalls, began, but was then interrupted by the pink-hair 'Boss' slugging his arm.

"Fer Lord Forthwythe, of course!" Said Boss as Smalls rubbed his the arm that just got hit. "And speakin' of taxes; you didn't wanna pay them! Do you know how much grief you started?"

"Westphalia has no jurisdiction in my territory." You explained.