Meanwhile, Mike, Merlany and Skid have arrived at a snack bar on the outskirts of town. Already on the way there there was a wonderful smell in the air that made Mike's salivation like a faucet. When they enter the small shop, Skid is immediately greeted by a lady behind the counter: "Hello Skid, my boy, what would you like today?"
Skid lets his new friends take precedence.
“Pick something.”
Mike studies the map. Mainly baked dough, with sauce and toppings. Since Italy doesn't exist here in this universe, it's not pizza, but simply a flatbread sandwich.
Merlany immediately says, "It's best with nothing," but Mike interrupts her and shouts, "Five times with everything! Four of them double!"
Merlany doesn't even finish her sentence because Mike wouldn't let her eat an empty flatbread.
Skid simply orders "The Usual", with ham and cheese.

After a short wait you also receive your flat breads. Skid and Merlany begin cutting theirs with cutlery while Mike begins rolling up the first of his four. Then he bites greedily into his filled roll of dough, with half of the sauce squirting out the back. The lady behind the counter and Skid can only watch, wordless, confused and somewhat shocked, as Mike eats. Merlany doesn't even look and tries to eat her flatbread in peace. Before she's even halfway there, Mike spins the second roll.
"Skid, didn't you give your guests anything to eat for a week, or didn't his parents teach him table manners?" the woman asks incredulously.
Skid just shakes his head negatively. Suddenly the otherwise calm and cool Merlany giggles.
"If he hadn't eaten anything for a week, your storage room would already be empty," she adds jokingly.
Mike just nods, smacking his lips and chewing. Skid can only watch wordlessly, eyes wide open, and slowly shake his head.

Outside the window stands Fox, who just watches the situation with disgust and annoyance. Fox practically hisses at the sight.
"And this circus wants to stop the Gauntlets. This one guy eats like a dirty pig and he's supposed to worry Master Wolf? Disgusting, these people with no self-control, I could-" he interrupts when he notices Merlany following him sees outside.
When their eyes meet, Fox turns away and disappears back onto the rooftops. Something about Merlany's look bothers him so much. The way she looks makes him uncomfortable for some reason. Is it the analytical coldness in her eyes? Is it the lightning quick temper? Or is he intimidated by the power that her gaze alone radiates? He can't point the finger. And no matter which of these things is true, why would she bother with these two complete slobs? Fox doesn't want to waste any more thought on it and focuses on what's important again. He must prepare for the attack against the Gauntlets.

Meanwhile, the three of them finished their meal, with Mike also being the first to swallow his four portions. Skid pays with his card and they leave the small restaurant to go back to Skid's garage. After all, today they are about to attack the Gauntlets and their leader. Only a few more hours of relaxation and recovery, final meetings and strategy planning and the warm-up for the emergency this evening lie ahead of them. Then the time has come.

Meanwhile, far away from their friends, in a remote part of Factory Town, in a large factory whose two steam towers literally darken the sky, the Gray Gauntlets have other problems. The whirring, banging and clicking of the many machines is loud and dull. In the dim light of the cheap lamps, a powerful figure stalks through the wide corridors. The camouflage style tank top can barely contain this man's bloated, muscular torso. The military cargo pants and the protective goggles on the forehead give the impression of a merciless soldier - a ruthless commander. The person ends up standing in front of a wide folding door that leads into one of the production rooms. With a powerful kick, the doors are simply torn from their hinges and the commander, because of his tall stature, walks through the now empty door frame, slightly bent over. The soldier looks into the surprised faces of his researchers, engineers and assembly line workers.
"Well ladies, I have bad news for you. Someone probably thinks it's hilarious to destroy our things. Due to the failure of Roger's temporary storage facility and the destruction of our radio tower, we are no longer able to make our next delivery on time in the normal way to deliver the Don," he growls in his deep voice.

Then he slowly pulls a fat cigar from one of the many pockets of his cargo pants. Indifferently, he lights it with his heavy metal lighter, takes a deep drag and continues his speech.
"That means, now you have to work at high speed. If we don't get this delivery ready on time, then I'll have you shot openly in the market square along with those responsible. And if one of you gets on me too, then I'll let it go Pick up your families too. Maybe then the conspiracies against me will stop."
He slowly exhales the smoke from his cigar and blows it into the horrified faces of the workers. One of the researchers swallows hard and mutters "Skid" under his breath. The commander pricks up his ears and turns his gaze to the researcher. He moves towards it with slow steps. Next to the mountain of meat, the man in his white coat looks like a child, even though he himself is of average height.
"I wouldn't be surprised if your fucking brat is involved in this. You both still have the benefit of the doubt, but I promise you, standing here, that I would publicly blow the brains out of a 14-year-old. We have understood us?"
The researcher nods without looking at the military man's face.
"Yes, Mister Bradford, sir."
Bradford takes the cigar out of his mouth and looks at the researcher annoyed.
"Believe me, I'd better finish you off before the Don's henchmen show up. They're not so merciful as to give out headshots."
With these words he turns around and disappears from the production hall.