The air in the basement crackled with intensity as the fight erupted, fists flying and bodies colliding with bone-crushing force. Damon grinned, his sharp, sarcastic voice cutting through the chaos.
"Ah, come on, is this all you got? I thought you'd put up more of a fight!" Damon taunted, dodging a punch and effortlessly landing a quick jab to one of the guards' gut. He ducked under another swing, his voice laced with mockery. "You're all slow as hell. You'd think they'd hire people who know how to throw a punch."
Xavier, ever the cocky fighter, smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he dodged a wild swing. He moved with fluid grace, his body responding with precise and calculated strikes. His voice rang out, deep and mocking. "Pathetic. They really send amateurs to stop us? I've seen more of a challenge at my grandma's bingo night."
Gilbert's eyes were cold, his stance unwavering as he threw a heavy punch, knocking one of the men to the ground. He wasn't playing games. His voice, however, was edged with danger, promising something far worse than pain if anyone stood in his way. "Tell me what I want to know, or I swear to God, you'll regret it."
Amidst the chaos, Xavier's eyes darted around, trying to keep up with the fight, his thoughts distracted. He fought lazily, not so much engaging but deflecting blows, using his agility to evade the frenzied attacks. But then—something caught his eye. A familiar figure slipping away through the shadows.
"No way..." His mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. He frowned, his brow creasing in disbelief. His heart skipped a beat as recognition struck. He could feel his pulse spike, a mixture of confusion and fury coursing through him.
Without thinking, he pushed forward, anger boiling over as the distraction left him open. A punch landed squarely in his ribs. He gritted his teeth, barely wincing. As he straightened up, his neck cracking with the movement, he focused on the escaping figure. There was no time for hesitation.
His eyes locked on the target, and in a blur of motion, he closed the distance, slamming a hard punch into the man's jaw. He followed it with a swift kick to the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The figure stumbled, but Xavier wasn't done—he wasn't leaving anything to chance. Another punch, another kick, relentless and unforgiving.
Meanwhile, Damon continued to mock, his voice almost a constant as he toyed with his enemies. "Oh, you wanna play rough, huh? Sorry, but this is a one-way street, buddy." He dodged, and with a grin, he delivered another brutal punch to a guard's temple.
Gilbert, though, was focused. His mind was on one thing: answers. With one final punch, the last of the guards crumpled to the floor. The boys paused for a brief moment to catch their breath, only to hear a faint gasp. Alexander froze.
He had grabbed the collar of a man who seemed oddly familiar, his face pale and terrified. It was the same man Alexander had seen earlier, the one yelling at the incompetent hacker. The man's eyes widened in fear, and his breath came in ragged gasps.
"Who put you up to this?" Alexander's voice was low, deadly calm, but there was an underlying anger simmering just beneath the surface.
The others exchanged glances, their brows raised in silent question. Gilbert's piercing eyes were on Alexander, sensing the urgency in his voice.
"Yeah, he is the hacker , I saw him being yelled at the earlier, but I couldn't get a good look at who it was," Alexander said, his words almost too quick as he answered the unasked question.
Gilbert nodded, his expression tightening as he looked down at the man. That was all he needed to hear.
He moved forward, his hands gripping the man's collar with force as he lifted him off the ground. "Who made you do it?" he demanded, his voice as cold as steel.
The man trembled, unable to meet their eyes. His lips quivered, but fear held him back from speaking. His gaze flickered to the floor as if the weight of his silence could protect him.
"Answer me!" Gilbert's voice thundered, his patience running thin. His knuckles were white from gripping the man's shirt.
"Bro, take a chill pill," Damon said, stepping in, his playful tone now replaced with seriousness. "We need answers, not a wrecked face. Hold back a little."
Gilbert's jaw tightened as he resisted the urge to lash out. His breath came in shallow bursts as he restrained himself, trying to remain focused. "Who put you up to this?!" he asked again, the threat in his voice clear.
The man stammered, and then his voice came out in a ragged whisper, "Alas…"
Before he could say more, the unmistakable sound of a gunshot rang through the air. The boys froze, terror gripping them as the bullet slammed into the man's rib, causing him to collapse in agony.
Gilbert's heart skipped a beat. His mind raced as he rushed to the man's side, gripping him by the shoulders. "No, no, no…" he muttered, his voice strained. "You have to tell me who did this. Don't die on me now."
The man's breath was shallow, his body trembling from the pain. He tried to speak, but the words were lost in a raspy cough. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes were distant.
"Damn it!" Gilbert growled, pounding his fist against the floor in frustration. "Who the hell did this? Who was it?"
The air in the basement was thick with the sounds of fists crashing into flesh and bones, but all of it came to a sudden halt when a sharp, deafening gunshot rang out, echoing through the tight space.
The boys crashed to their knees, instinctively scrambling for cover, their minds racing. The chaos of the fight dissolved for a fleeting moment as they sought shelter, the blood rushing in their ears.
Damon's eyes immediately locked onto the source of the shot, his heartbeat hammering in his chest. His pupils dilated as he took in the sight of a lone figure dressed in black. His instincts screamed, but it wasn't until he took a second, deeper look that his stomach sank.
"A girl," he muttered under his breath, a curse falling from his lips. His heart skipped, and his mind raced back to a time he thought he'd buried. "Fuck... it's her."
The figure stood tall and poised, her expression unreadable. Damon's mind raced as something about her seemed painfully familiar, like a memory he couldn't shake. And then, like a slap to the face, it hit him. The tattoo on her neck. He could never forget it.
Her face, hidden in the shadows, was unmistakable. Bianca.
He couldn't stop the flood of thoughts rushing through him—His mind flashed back to their time together, that night he thought he'd been too drunk to remember only to wake up in her arm, and since they've been hooking up even today. Wait... was that her plan all along.He now realized he'd been fooled. She was the enemy all along.
"Bianca," he hissed under his breath, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and anger.
Meanwhile, the boys were in shock, unable to process what they had just witnessed. Travis, their only lead, had been shot in the chest, his body now slumped lifelessly against the cold concrete floor. Gilbert, breathing heavily, rushed to his side, desperate to get answers before it was too late.
He shook Travis, trying to bring him back from the brink of death, but the man's eyes were glazed over, his breath shallow. "Travis," Gilbert growled, his voice low and full of desperation. "You better give me something useful. Now. Who the hell is behind this? Who was it?"
For a moment, Travis's lips parted, his face contorting in pain as he struggled to form words. His hands weakly grasped at the air, gasping for breath. Gilbert's grip on him tightened.
Damon and Xavier were still recovering from the shock of the gunshot, their minds now racing with thoughts of the girl in black. They exchanged a silent glance, both of them wondering if they had underestimated just how deep the danger ran.
"Come on, Travis," Gilbert growled, his anger rising again. "We don't have time for this. Who the fuck is DH?"
Travis' eyes flickered, and with a final effort, he choked out the words, barely able to speak them.
"D...D...H is... De...Wayne... Henry," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper before his eyes fluttered closed.
The name echoed in the silence that followed, and just like that, Travis's life drained away with his final breath.
Gilbert froze, his body stiffening as the weight of the name hit him like a tidal wave. "Wayne Henry," he muttered, his voice cold and steady. He turned to the others, his face hardening, eyes glinting with newfound resolve. "I know that name."
Xavier's gaze shifted to Damon, who looked almost… betrayed. His expression hardened as the pieces of the puzzle began to click together. "You know him?" Xavier asked, his voice low, a touch of skepticism lacing it.
Damon's eyes narrowed, still staring at the shadowy figure of Bianca, who remained unmoved. "I should've known... she's just the beginning." He clenched his fists, the realization that they were all playing a game much larger and much more dangerous than they'd anticipated settling in his gut.
Gilbert stepped forward, his expression grim. "Wayne Henry. The hacker. We need to find him, and we need to make him talk. This is far from over."
But there was a quiet, dangerous tension in the air as they all knew, deep down, that the fight was just getting started.