[@Leol]

[i]The idea was to terrorize the shopkeeper's dog to make the man talk, not the animal. Donny had been sent to collect the shopkeeper's monthly protection money, and having seen a rerun of MIB the other night, had been feeling very inspired. Then the shit hit the fan as some kind of super freak went and flipped out across the street.

Donny had no superpowers, no assurance of power from beyond. Though he didn't act like it, with his blatant theatrics and mischievous streak, he came from a walk of life far and away from Arais's treading grounds. In the underworld you step lightly, you carry cold heat, and you never show your hand. 

Though Donny's bald brows lifted in surprise, he didn't flee nor panic, didn't blink. He slid his left foot towards Arais and pivoted around to take up a slouching side stance, left flank facing his opponent with the pug tucked under his left arm as Arias rose on his earthen pillar. The hitman duly noted (with disguised wariness) the emergence of the pillar behind himself out of the corner of his eye, and the implications of facing someone that could control the ground itself.

Unseen due to his positioning, Donny's right hand snaked into his overcoat pocket, like an oiled cobra. Predators in the movies always announce their attack with a roar. In nature, they don't. In the underworld, they don't. The roar came after the bullet, the sound barrier late to the show as in a single fluid motion, Donny slung his revolver out of its holster by reaching through the hole in his coat pocket. 
With his flank blocking Arais's view, obscuring the crook of his right elbow as he drew the gun, and his coat flaps preventing Arais from seeing the gun slide up alongside Donny's stomach, the full motion was completed in the time it took Arias to initially look away in his brief glance for civilians. It was as untelegraphed as a gun draw could be, and any person watching Donny from the front would see nothing more than what could be attributed to a slight and wholly natural shifting of weight, the kind of bodily adjustment anyone could be expected to make hundreds of times each day. Arias had taken his eyes off of his opponent anyways, and Donny, being the opportunist he was, seized at the moment. 

Were he unable to guard himself in some fashion or another, the bullet would take Arias in the neck and all but splatter his cervical vertebrae across the building behind him before he could take off his ear buds. As for Donny, he'd be left with a smoking hole in his left coat flap and a singe mark on his bullet proof vest from the escaping, red hot cylinder emissions. The pug would be flailing its pudgy paws, eyes bulging, frantically squealing.[/i]