Chapter 3
Revenge and Rebirth
As the clock ticked closer to the appointed time, Davis slipped the backpack on and headed out. The campus was eerily quiet, the usual hustle and bustle replaced by an unsettling calm. He made his way to the alley shops, his mind racing with thoughts of what was to come.
The alley was dimly lit, the flickering streetlights casting eerie shadows on the walls. Davis spotted Sylvester and the three German brothers waiting for him, their expressions a mix of anticipation and menace. Sylvester stepped forward, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
"Well, well, you actually showed up," Sylvester taunted. "I was half-expecting you to run away like the coward you are."
Davis clenched his fists, his anger boiling over. "I'm done running, Sylvester. This ends tonight."
Sylvester laughed, a cold, hollow sound that echoed through the alley. "We'll see about that. Ready to fight for your life, Davis?"
Davis took a deep breath, his mind focused on the plan. He knew he had to get close enough to Sylvester to make the device effective. As they squared off, Davis felt a strange sense of calm wash over him. This was it. This was the last moment.
The fight began, a brutal clash of fists and fury. Davis fought with everything he had, his desperation fueling his strength. But Sylvester was relentless, his blows landing with precision and power. Davis could feel himself weakening, his vision blurring as pain coursed through his body.
"Is this all you've got?" Sylvester sneered, landing a punch to Davis's ribs. "I thought you were tougher than this."
Davis gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain. "You don't know what I'm capable of," he spat back, swinging wildly.
Sylvester dodged easily, his eyes glinting with malice. "Oh, I think I do. You're nothing but a weak, pathetic loser."
Just then, the German brothers and a few other Lycon gang members started to close in on Davis, sensing that he was up to something. They moved with coordinated precision, surrounding him and cutting off any chance of escape.
"Grab him!" one of the German brothers shouted, lunging forward.
Davis felt a surge of panic but also a grim determination. He knew this was his only chance. As the gang members closed in, he reached for the backpack. His fingers fumbled with the straps, slick with sweat and blood. Sylvester's eyes widened in realization, but it was too late.
Davis activated the device, a grim smile on his face as he whispered, "This is for everything you've done."
Sylvester's face twisted in horror. "No, Davis, wait—"
The explosion was deafening, a blinding flash of light and heat that consumed the alley. The gang members, including the German brothers, were caught in the blast, their bodies thrown like ragdolls amidst the rubble. Davis felt a moment of intense pain, then nothing. The world went dark, and he knew no more.
"It's finally over, I wish you a good life in the afterlife....my.... best.....friend...." Davis struggling through his last sentence, his detached head could see limbs spluttered all over the floor.
Once darkness was all-consuming, a void that seemed to stretch on forever. Davis floated in this abyss, feeling neither pain nor peace, just an endless nothingness. He thought this was it—the end he had longed for. But fate had other plans.
A distant sound began to pierce the silence, a rhythmic beeping that grew louder and more insistent. Davis felt a strange pull, like he was being dragged back from the brink. He tried to resist, but the force was too strong. With a sudden jolt, he was yanked back into consciousness.
When Davis opened his eyes, he wasn't in the hospital. He was in a lavish room, the kind he had only seen in movies. The walls were adorned with expensive artwork, and the furniture screamed opulence. He felt different, his body unfamiliar. Panic set in as he realized he wasn't in his own body.
A mirror on the opposite wall caught his eye. He stumbled towards it, his reflection revealing a face he didn't recognize. "What the hell?" he muttered, touching his new face. He was younger, stronger, and undeniably someone else.
The door creaked open, and a man in a tailored suit entered. "Young Master Jarvis, you're awake," he said, relief evident in his voice.
Davis—now Jarvis—blinked in confusion. "Who are you? Where am I?"
The man frowned. "It's me, Marco. Your father's right-hand man. You don't remember?"
Davis shook his head, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. "I... I remember an explosion. I thought I was dead."
Marco's expression softened. "You were close. But thank God you're alive, Young Master. And we have a lot to discuss."
Over the next few days, Marco filled in the gaps. Jarvis Moretti was the only abandoned son of Vincent Moretti, the notorious mafia boss. Davis had somehow entered Jarvis's body, given a second chance at life in a world he had never wanted to be a part of.
One evening, as they sat in the grand dining room, Marco leaned in. "Jarvis, you need to understand something. You and your mum were abandoned because of me. I am deeply sorry, I just never thought your father would consider me and your mum being together.
"And because of me, you are now vulnerable to all your father's enemies. Even your siblings will be against you now. "
I....I... I'm deeply sorry, young master. I know I don't amount too much, but please allow me to help you and your mum. After all is me, that put you all in this mess
Davis—Jarvis—nodded slowly. "I get it. But I'm not just going to take words, I prefer actions."
Marco's eyes gleamed with hope. "Thank you, young master.
"Young master Jarvis, I can promise you this is the best decision you've ever made." Marco said while standing up.
"What about my mum, Where is she?" Jarvis asked with a look of concern.
"Young master I'm sorry to say, but Madam is in the ICU. At Vermand Hospital. The explosion from the attack also reached her."
"Was the explosive that strong, but wait a sec, who the hell would even plant an explosive on our car." Jarvis silently thought
"Hey Marco, have you found out the people who attacked us?"
"Yes, young master, it turns out it's a subsidiary group of the Lycon Gang."
"Lycon gan- wait isn't that the same group sylvester was in." Jarvis clenched his fists hard.
"I thought I wiped them out. How are they still operating?"
"No way, this time, I have to wipe them out for good. "
Veins bulged throughout Jarvis body, his blood boiling
Seeing Jarvis so deep in thought and growing agitation, Marco quickly tried to calm him down. " Young master please don't be impulsive, I've already started tracking down their whereabouts. Just give me some time young master. Ill make sure to wipe them out for touching you and madam. "
What Marco didn't know was that Jarvis wasn't angry because of the explosion. After all, it was his predecessor who experienced it, not him.
"Haaah," Jarvis slowly inhaled and then exhaled, trying to calm himself down. Then he looked at Marco "So what's your plan?"
"Young Master before we were kicked out of the Mafia group I had a gang we dispersed before due to various reasons, I'm planning to gather them once more before we make a move on the Lycon group."
"So you will be travelling?"
"Yes, Young master some members are currently not in the country, while some states, I'll be gathering the once in the states first."
"Then I'll follow you," jarvis said while propping himself up.
"No, Young Master you just started recovering and have not fully healed yet. It's best if Young master stays and recovers." Marco said while gently pushing him back on the bed with one arm.
"Young master still needs to recuperate after gathering the members. I'll be back."