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"Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life."
- J.K. Rowling
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The Allied Crew's footsteps echoed through the darkened streets as they moved with purpose, the weight of the rain-soaked night pressing down around them. Daniel led the group, his expression calm but his eyes betraying a keen focus on the task ahead. They needed to regroup with Zack and Vin, who were fighting Gun, but as they walked, a silent exchange passed between Warren and Eli. They had something else in mind, another objective that needed to be addressed.
Eli gave Warren a knowing nod and took a step toward Daniel, but before he could speak, Daniel's voice cut through the steady patter of raindrops.
"Go," Daniel said, his tone decisive and unwavering. "We can handle Gun. Your skills are needed somewhere else." He glanced over his shoulder, meeting Eli's eyes. "Olly Wang is still running the Hostel. It's time for the Allied Crew to claim that territory too."
Eli's lips curled into a grin. "You always know what we're thinking, don't you?" he replied, admiration in his voice.
Daniel smirked, the rain drumming against his jacket. "You're predictable," he said, though the words carried a hint of fondness.
Warren cracked his knuckles, his anticipation practically tangible. "We'll take care of it," he assured. "And when we're done, Hostel will belong to us."
With a quick exchange of farewells, the two fighters broke off from the main group, veering down a different street toward the part of town where Hostel made its home. The rain had started to ease up slightly, but the night remained heavy with the anticipation of the battle to come.
....
At the Hostel's headquarters, the atmosphere was alive with reckless energy. Inside, the sprawling main hall buzzed with chaotic activity: sparring matches, loud music, and the clink of bottles. The tension was palpable, but there was also a twisted sense of camaraderie in the air, driven by the group's shared love for brawls and anarchy.
At the center of it all sat Olly Wang, lounging back in a large leather chair, his legs casually propped up on a nearby table. He wore a loose-fitting shirt and dark pants, his hair styled in its usual messy fashion. Olly was a figure who thrived in disorder, his scars and bruises a testament to his love of violence. A bottle of whiskey dangled from one hand as he took a long drink, his mischievous grin visible even through the haze of smoke that hung in the air.
Around him, Hostel's members were either sparring or watching the fights unfold, their yells and cheers filling the large room. At the back, a group of Hostel executives exchanged glances, wary of Olly's unpredictable behavior. One of the senior members, a lanky man named Fang, cleared his throat and spoke up.
"Boss, don't you think we should be more cautious?" he suggested, his voice tinged with unease. "There's been news, word on the street says the Allied Crew's been making moves. They've already taken down the Fourth and Third Affiliates of the Workers."
Olly's grin widened into a maniacal smile, his eyes alight with a mad glint. "Allied Crew? You mean those high school punks from J High?" He waved a dismissive hand. "They're nothing but kids playing at being gangsters. Let them come," he said, raising his whiskey bottle in a mock toast. "We'll crush them just like the rest."
Fang didn't look convinced, but before he could voice any more concerns, the heavy double doors at the far end of the room swung open. Two figures strode in, their expressions set with grim purpose. As they stepped out of the shadows and into the dim light, the faces of Eli Jang and Warren Chae became visible, their eyes scanning the room with cold precision.
The raucous atmosphere in the hall died down as Hostel's members noticed the newcomers. The two men stood tall and unyielding, their presence demanding the room's attention. Olly's grin faltered for a moment before curving into a wicked smile. He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes narrowing on Eli and Warren.
"Well, look who's come to join the party," Olly sneered, rising to his feet with a slow, mocking clap. "Eli Jang and Warren Chae. Did you come here to beg for mercy, or are you just that eager to get beaten down?"
Eli's gaze remained steady as he took a step forward, gripping his batons with a sense of purpose. "We're here for the Hostel," he said, his voice clear and cutting through the tense silence. "You're done here, Olly. This place belongs to the Allied Crew now."
The sound of his voice echoed throughout the large hall, followed by a wave of laughter from Hostel's members. They sized up Eli and Warren with disdain, their expressions a mixture of amusement and incredulity.
Olly's laughter rose above the rest, his face twisted into an almost delighted expression. "You think you can walk in here and take my territory?" he taunted, his eyes alight with derision. "That's cute. But you're in over your heads, little boys."
Warren stepped up beside Eli, his stance calm but his knuckles already cracking in anticipation. "You talk a big game, Olly," he said, his voice steady. "Let's see if you can back it up."
Olly's grin faded, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze as he gave a curt nod to the Hostel members. "Boys," he said, his tone dangerously low, "show them why this is our turf."
The moment he gave the order, chaos erupted. The room exploded into motion as Hostel's fighters charged at Eli and Warren, fists raised and weapons drawn. Eli's eyes narrowed, and he swung his batons up, ready to take on the flood of attackers. Warren cracked his neck and braced himself, his muscles tensing as the first wave approached.
The first attacker lunged at Eli with a knife, but Eli sidestepped effortlessly and slammed the end of his baton into the thug's jaw. The man crumpled to the floor in an instant. Without hesitation, Eli pivoted, catching another attacker in the ribs with a quick strike before following up with a crushing blow to the shoulder, dislocating the joint.
Warren was just as relentless, plowing into the thick of the fray like an unstoppable force. A thug swung a metal pipe at him, but Warren blocked it with his forearm and retaliated with a devastating punch to the gut, folding the man in half. Another fighter came at him from the side, but Warren delivered a swift kick to the knee, sending the man sprawling.
The Hostel fighters were no match for the sheer power and refined techniques that Eli and Warren had honed during months of rigorous training. Despite being outnumbered, the duo moved like a well-oiled machine, dismantling the opposition with brutal efficiency.
Eli's batons struck with the precision of a master, each swing calculated and lethal. He ducked under a punch, spun around, and brought both batons down on the back of a thug's head. The man hit the ground with a thud, unconscious before he even landed. Eli's eyes darted to the next threat, always a step ahead of the crowd.
Meanwhile, Warren's sheer physicality was on full display as he bulldozed through multiple opponents. He grabbed one fighter by the collar and hurled him into two others, the impact sending all three crashing to the floor. Another thug tried to tackle him from behind, but Warren spun around and delivered a brutal elbow strike to the man's temple, knocking him out cold.
As the dust began to settle, the hall was littered with groaning bodies and shattered weapons. The few remaining Hostel members hesitated, their confidence visibly shaken. It was clear that the battle had turned in favor of the Allied Crew.
Olly watched the scene unfold, a mixture of anger and excitement flashing across his face. He took a step forward, his fists clenched tightly. "You've made your point," he said, his tone dangerous. "But if you think you can just walk in here and take over, you're dead wrong."
Eli stepped forward, his eyes locked on Olly. "This place belongs to the Allied Crew now," he repeated, his voice steady.
Olly grinned, his hands twitching with anticipation. "You think so?" he snarled, a wild look in his eyes. "Then come and take it!"
The real fight was about to begin.
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End of the chapter
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