Those of you inside the restaurant find the food has three primary virtues: it is cheap, filling, and very, very good--whoever works here is good at their craft, and possibly willing to take a slight loss on some things in order to maintain a happy customer base.  So it's crowded, and popular, and new customers are constantly arriving in a steady stream.<br/><br/>The pretty teenaged girl who is acting as greeter-and-seater struggles to keep up, but you all get seats readily, and the waitstaff are more efficient than might be feared.  The<em>gwailo</em>among you get curious glances, since this isn't really a tourist-friendly part of Hong Kong (especially not this late at night), but that's about the extent of local xenophobia since the food is this good, and even foreign devils like to eat.<br/><br/>The first sign of trouble is the crowd of young toughs in black leather jackets who muscle their way in through the door about two minutes after the last of you to arrive has been served.  The jackets are bulky enough to hide all manner of weaponry, and the sharp-eyed among you notice the symbol on the back shows a giant thorn piercing a hand.  Oddly enough, the one leading the pack is a huge hulk of bad-tempered street tough with an unusual scar.  He starts cussing out the cashier...<br/><br/>This brings a nervous but pretty young woman hurrying out of the back.  She thrusts a roll of bills at the big man with the scarred face, clearly pleading with him to leave.  Instead, he bats the money away and pulls back his fist to smack her!<br/><br/>Then he punches the young woman in the face, and there is a sickening crunch as she shrieks and drops to the floor, folding like the proverbial house of cards...<br/>