Instead of following this train of thoughts, which was dangerously close to an even deeper rabbit hole of 'True nature of time shenanigans I found myself in', I decided to strip things down to their core and be done once and for all.

First, whatever happened in the future? Past? Different parallel versions of this world? Whatever. All of that is a moot point. All that happened there already happened and there is no way to change it. End of discussion.

Second, I did not, in fact, feel any regret about things I've done. Only results they led me to. As such, I just need to avoid repeating the same mistakes again. Case closed.

Third, I need to stop these self-exploratory monologues inside my head. They won't lead me anywhere, unless I put an actual effort to follow up on them with actions. I slowly exhaled through my nose. This situation was tiresome in so many ways.

Now to the actual problem at hand. Huh, in fact, what is even an issue here? For me, the only meaningful difference is how boring each choice was.

I looked towards the chick, not even trying to be discreet this time. The stream of passersby took a time-out, no doubt coinciding with the bus/train schedule, so she was currently fully distracted by her phone. Now was a good time to act, so I hurried my pace a bit.

"Hey handsome, want to have a good time?" I heard her voicing the most clichéd prostitute impression ever.

Seems like she was bored playing this role by now and, expecting another failure, didn't put any effort into that whatsoever.

"How much?" Well, I wasn't here to judge her performance.

Getting an actual response stupefied her for a moment. She stopped looking into the phone and raised her face towards me. Her eyes went wide after seeing who exactly took the bait. Despite my lazy bum getup, I was tall, rather handsome and very in-shape. As a bonus, my current expression wasn't my usual mask of perpetual boredom, but certified 'a bit of interest in an attractive woman #2', tested and proven effective through the years of eating soft rice. And it wasn't even entirely faked.

"How about three hundred?" She leaned towards me, showing off her cleavage. A bit clumsy, but the view was spectacular, so I forgive her.

I gave her a once over, and it was more than a fair price for someone of such level. The atrocity she calls her makeup needs to go, and hairstyle could use a touch of stylist as well. She was pretty tall, counting with high-heels just a bit shorter than me. Slim waist, long legs. She looked very lithe, but had curves at all the right places. Her movements were filled with an almost feline grace. A dancer perhaps? The finishing touch was a healthy tan and a lively look in her light-brown eyes. This was prime material for a high-level escort. With the right clientele, she could easily make fifty to a hundred times more per night.

"What? You think I'm not worth that much?" She put her hand on my chest, coquettishly tracing the lines of my pecs with the tips of her nails.

"On the contrary," I easily caught her hand and lightly kissed it, "I was astonished at what a steal it was."

It took a lot of my willpower not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of this whole situation. Lazy bum with a fucking plastic bag full of groceries, seducing party girl in the middle of the street.

"And what would've been the right price?" asked the girl with a hint of interest.

"Oh, it's hard to say, since it's very dependent on the customer," I released her hand. "I, for one, am not someone who would argue about prices being too low."

I made a gesture with my now free hand, showing my current attire. A wry enough smirk was the finishing touch on my behalf. This small play of mine helped her to escape trance and return to reality. She took her eyes from me for a moment, most likely looking if the bozos were in place and ready.

"Three hundred it is, then." Her tone changed a bit, just a touch colder, but it was still noticeable. "Shall we get somewhere more… private?"

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Should I play with her for a little longer? But of course.

"My apartments are about fifteen minutes away from here," I said in a mock contemplation. "Alternatively, there is a great hotel, where people don't ask many questions and rent rooms by the hours, but it's even further away."

That actually made her panic a bit. Wait, they didn't think about such a basic possibility? Just wow. Well, what will you do now, my miss adult worker?

"But it's so far away!" said my counterpart in a spoiled tone. "Hey, I know that really secluded alleyway nearby~"

It had a great effect. Especially coupled with the way she hugged my arm, conveniently getting into my personal space while showing off her assets, which her tight-fitting short dress struggled to hide anyway. And they were some impressive assets, I must add. The 'spoiled, with a pinch of needy, naughty girlfriend that is feeling a bit adventurous right now' guise suited this girl like a fitting glove, making me wonder if this was her actual personality slipping through.

And it was an effective tactic, as, despite already knowing that it's just an act, part of me was ready to buy into the illusion.

"Then lead the way." I told her, letting her pull myself towards the destination.

My guide put extra sway into her hips, most likely trying to distract me from thinking about our route too much, another great tactic that could absolutely work on someone influenced by alcohol and/or their arousal.

I allowed her to drag myself through alleyways for the last five minutes, making sure to keep track of our approximate position. The nearly identical backstreets, dark narrow side-roads. A bit of small talk. Textbook example of how to lull someone, to make them lose their awareness enough. The almost hypnotic view of her marvelous backside helped quite a bit as well.

"We are almost there. Just a bit more," she reassured me.

If only this path wasn't so well known to the dark side of myself. The primal beast inside me rattled its cage, smelling familiar prey. Oh, yes, she smelled good, enticing even. I fought back the idea of burying my face into the side of her nape. Now was not the time for that. Not the place, either. And I knew too well what letting myself loose there will ultimately lead to.

The further we went, the faster her pace was. The more quiet she became. And, most regrettable, her gait returned to the normal level of sway. She took the last sharp turn, leading us into a dead end. I must say, this was a very secluded place indeed.

My guide finally let my hand go, slowly turning towards me. I followed her gaze and, of course, she looked at someone behind me. Yes, her cheerleading squad was there, I already knew. Dick and Harry. Or was either of them named Tom? These two stooges didn't bother to hide the sound of their footsteps while tailing us, an amateur mistake.

They weren't an issue. But that's what made them an issue. Paradox.

They weren't professionals, that much was obvious. I doubt they were gang affiliated at all, just some small-time thugs. Which meant that if I went overboard with them, it would get police attention. I was twenty-five years in the past, my reputation didn't have the same sway, my name wasn't so well known, and my contacts weren't as numerous. Maybe I should start working on fixing this first? First time around, it took me fifteen years of being a mix of glorified gigolo with muscle-for-hire to get enough starting capital and to get acquainted with the right people.

Another pang deep inside my head, fuck, what is that thing I can't remember? Why does it seem important?

"Hey, fucker. It's a robbery. Give us all you have on you, and we will let you go. Maybe." I heard a voice from behind.

I turned my head back, to see which one of the two was talking. This one is clearly a Dick, aptly named for his shaved head. Harry was the second one, sporting a green Mohawk. Fucking wannabes. They should've just smacked me up my head from behind, not calling my attention. So, at least one of them wants to impress the miss night worker, an interesting detail. Unimportant.

Dick was short and stocky, while Harry was long and lanky. I scanned over them to look for important details. No visible gang affiliated tattoos. Small faded scars visible on both faces and hands. The way they held themselves told me everything else I needed to know. Not properly trained, but used to violence. Typical small-time thugs. And, fuck, they were young. Either the same age or a year younger than I am now. Meaning the girl is, most likely, the same age. Potentially underage thugs, so this is the reason why locals kept watching without interfering. Too sketchy for their taste. Could lead to difficult questions.

"Oi, are you deaf or daft? Give us your wallet, bozo," Harry added his five cents.

I turned back to the girl. She was looking to the side, avoiding my gaze. Feeling guilty or just didn't want to bother with someone she won't ever see again? I smirked, as my expression morphed back to its default bored look.

"Hey, mind holding this for a few? Pretty please." I shoved my plastic bag into her hands, without waiting for an answer.

"Hey, bro, look. Someone thinks that he is invincible." Dick.

"Yep, how about convincing him otherwise?" Harry.

I looked at the duo's clowning routine. I wasn't afraid of them in the slightest. Not because I was fearless or brave. Neither I believed in my own invincibility, my scars shattered this notion long ago. Nah, it was a much more simple and grounded reason. Even if I lost, at the worst, they would just beat me up. Nothing I haven't experienced before. And they won't kill me. Neither of the two looked like a killer. I won't spout bullshit about 'feeling killing intent' or something. It's all in the eyes. The way someone who killed before is looking at you… it's just different.

"So, which one of you two half-brains want to go first? I have a date scheduled later on with both of your moms. Oh, right, they asked to say hi to you two." It was my poor attempt to provoke them into throwing the first punch. I didn't exactly have a reliable witness anyway, but it's an old habit.

Instead of answering me, Dick just threw a slow and telegraphed right punch in the general direction of my head. I dived under, easily avoiding it, and countered with a left lead body hook in an attempt to hit his wide open side. It made full contact, taking out the air out of his system. As well as light out of Dick's eyes and sending him to la-la land for a while. Without extra heavy injuries, I must add.

Stopping my automatic reaction of stomping on the back of fucker's head, to make sure that he won't be able to continue the fight, and possibly existing, I took a step forward over a fallen body and threw right straight toward Harry's Adam's apple. This was another reflex, and I caught myself a bit too late to stop. Luckily, I miscalculated my limb's length and my punch failed to crush the unlucky bastard's windpipe completely. Still pretty painful, yes. It supposedly feels as if you were trying to swallow a brick, and it stuck in your throat instead. No wonder the guy fell to his knees, desperately holding his neck. I still heard his pained breath, though, so everything was within acceptable limits.

Two punches, less than half a minute-long fight. Disappointing. Boring. As expected. No possible charges for 'over the limit self-defense' though, I'll take it.