In the deep night, a powerful expert hidden within the city encounters thugs beating up civilians. Stepping forward, he swiftly takes down a dozen thugs, leaving behind a lone heroic silhouette disappearing around the street corner...
A perfect script, but it's a pity that this trope is rather old, and Logan doesn't possess the boundless love of a superhero. He's just an ordinary, well, an ordinary student.
Out of a sense of good manners, Logan silently landed outside the alley after a few agile maneuvers, gripping the corner of the wall. Inside, the chaos of cursing and screams was deafening. After thinking about his lines, he coughed lightly, then suddenly jumped out while holding up his phone.
"Stop! All of you, I've already called the police!"
Logan stood righteously under the streetlight, admonishing the people fighting in the dark alley. The mobile phone he held glowed with fluorescence, and his posture looked a bit like some kind of transformation device for the partners of justice.
Indeed, Logan had called the police. Seeing the thugs were about to kill someone, he had no choice but to step in and buy some time.
Like a mudslide cutting through the scene, his voice of protest momentarily stunned the people who were fighting in the alley. Everyone couldn't help but turn to look at the young face that had appeared. The ferocious expression of these people in the dim light were still quite intimidating.
Logan was very calm under their gazes. He shook his phone and said, " The nearest police station is just a few miles away. There are few cars at night, so the police will be here soon. I'm telling you..."
Whoosh, an iron rod was swung in the air without any hesitation. Logan frowned and stopped talking, then sidestepped back and dodged.
At the alley entrance, a blond thug nearest to Logan didn't hesitate to swing his iron rod. However, his attempt to teach a lesson only hit empty air.
"Where did this idiot come from?" came the speechless voice that should be from the leading thug, and the henchmen responded with mocking laughter. Although the underworld is gradually fading away with the development of society, as the thugs usually take jobs and have conflicts with other colleagues and they avoids being public, but they occasionally encountered situations where a well-meaning bystander would get involved. Nowadays, there were few young men willing to step up and act bravely.
But now, despite the presence of so many people armed with iron rods, they didn't expect Logan would choose to ignore it.
"Brother Hans, don't worry, I can take care of this kid." The blond thug man said confidently, waving his hand with a flourish. The key to being cool was all about style. He gripped the iron rod, looking at Logan's calm expression, and muttered under his breath, "How did he dodge that?"
Logan's deliberately restrained demeanor gave off a strong student vibe, while the blond thug is clearly a twenty-five or twenty-six-year-old seasoned street thug, so he was confident in his experience. Upon hearing this, the group of thugs made a few crude jokes before returning their attention to the three men who were already half-kneeling on the ground and wouldn't last much longer.
Although Logan's threat had caught their attention, the thugs, being local bullies, were not overly concerned. There was indeed a police station a few streets away, but the leader, a tall thug, signaled to his subordinates to intensify their attacks. And the beating became even more ferocious.
"Kid, you must have read too many books. The real world is dangerous!" The blond thug sneered, tapping the iron rod rhythmically against his palm, intending to scare Logan off. But just as he was about to make a move, Logan stepped into the darkness, disappearing from sight.
The blond thug blinked, feeling the iron rod slip from his hand. Before he knew it, he was already on the ground, feeling disoriented.
"Fuck..." The blond thug started to curse, but his words were cut short as his vision went dark and he lost consciousness.
Logan had swiftly knocked out the blond thug with a single blow, ending the other party's performance abruptly.
Now facing the other thugs who were engrossed in their violent beating, Logan hesitated, 'How could these people from the underworld be so brazen? The police were on their way, yet they showed no fear...'
'Forget it, let's run away. The police have been called. I hope the ambulance can save the three men on the ground who can only hold their heads and be beaten.'
"Damn it, Blondie, what's wrong with you?" One of the thugs exclaimed.
A dozen or so people were blocking three people in an alley, and there would always be people who couldn't squeeze in. Two thugs could just stay outside for a few seconds. After noticing that the sound behind them was not right, they turned around and saw a scene that defied their expectations.
In Logan's brief moment of hesitation, the commotion drew the attention of the entire group, once again making him the center of attention.
Holding the iron rod in his hand, Logan looked at the blond thug on the ground, 'What the hell, you are really called Blondie?' He looked at the thugs who looked at him in surprise, touched his face, and said innocently, "How about... I just go home, and you guys continue?"
There was no need for the leading thug to give any orders, as the thugs nearby were already rolling up their sleeves, cursing as they approached. Their ingrained instincts led them to ignore the absurdity of a student managing to take down an adult in the blink of an eye.
Logan slowly retreated, but the thugs quickly closed in. Just as his heels reached the boundary between the light of the street and the darkness of the alley, he stopped slightly, 'There were countless cold eyes outside.' Thinking of this, he sighed, and raised the iron rod.
…
Damian Light feels pain all over his body. The new young crew from the Sand Down Society didn't know how to hold back, and the repeated strikes from their iron rods had left his limbs covered in bruises. He felt like his bones were disintegrating, but his concern for his injuries was overshadowed by the shocking scene before him.
Half-supported on the ground, he stared wide-eyed at the thugs sprawled out like dead dogs, groaning in pain in the dim alley. He couldn't believe his eyes.
"Clang!"
The iron rod clattered to the ground, rolling with a grating noise. Damian's heart skipped a beat. Even his experienced heart, accustomed to turmoil, tightened at this seemingly insignificant sound.
The leader of the Sand Down Society named Brother Hans clutched his arm, staring in fear at the young man who had nonchalantly taken down the entire group.
Just moments ago, this young man had been knocking out the thugs like a game of whack-a-mole, making them question their life choices.
"What are you looking at?" The young man knocked kicked Brother Hans unconscious, his demeanor a stark contrast to the naive student he had initially appeared to be. When Damian was just being surrounded by people from the Sand Down Society, he noticed the righteous young man emerging from the alley. He had been relieved to see a savior, but also worried for the young man's safety. However, he had never expected that the final outcome would be like this.
The young man was the only one left standing. He glanced at Damian, clapped his hands, and turned away without saying anything. The moment he turned his head, his temperament changed back to that of an ordinary student.
Despite the burning pain, Damian shivered. He had been in the underworld of Fresno for many years, so he knew that this time he might have met an expert's disciple or the true master of martial arts.
"Wait, wait a moment, little brother." Damian wiped the blood from his mouth and struggled to stand. He pulled a business card from his pocket and said, "I won't thank you for your kindness. If you encounter trouble in Fresno in the future, you can come to me."
There was a strange look from the other party. Damian understood what his gaze meant, and his bruised face turned slightly red. He had just been beaten badly by this group of thugs, and now he was telling this young man to come to him for help.
But fortunately, the young man casually accepted the card, which saved him some face.
The alley became quiet, and police sirens approached from the distance. Damian glanced at the fallen thugs, and a flash of ruthlessness crossed his face. Suppressing his emotions, he helped one of his still conscious companions, and together, they carried the other one who was unconscious with a head injury and leave.
…
Two police cars screeched to a halt by the roadside, and four or five officers quickly got out. From a distance, they saw figures clutching their stomachs and leaning against the wall. The officers exchanged glances and rushed over.
"We received a report of about a dozen people maliciously attacking three people..."
"Thud." The leading officer grabbed a staggering figure, but before he could finish his question, the man couldn't hold himself up and fell unconscious.
Seeing there are many marks of blunt force impact on his body, the officers' expressions turned serious. Some drew their batons while others used their radios to call for backup.
"Police...uh, huh?"
After taking a few steps into the alley, the officers stopped in their tracks.
The alley was filled with groans, scattered iron rods, and brass knuckles. When the thugs with colorful hair saw the polices, their eyes were filled with the emotion of seeing their loved ones...
The leading officer was stunned. After a few seconds, he turned around and asked with uncertainty, "A dozen people maliciously attacking three people? Did the caller get it wrong? Wasn't it supposed the other way around?"