The tension in the air was suffocating in the dimly lit mafia hideout. The room smelled of stale cigars and sweat, its walls lined with cracked plaster and bullet holes that told a story of years of violence. A single flickering bulb hung above a wooden table strewn with maps, weapons, and documents.
The subordinate in charge of the recent weapons deal paced back and forth, his face a mask of anger and tension. His slicked-back hair was disheveled, and his jaw clenched as he glanced nervously at his phone. The events of the previous night weighed heavily on him—his men were incapacitated, the weapons seized, and the deal ruined by a single shadowy figure.
The phone rang, breaking the silence like a gunshot. He snatched it up and answered with a trembling voice.
"Boss," he said, his tone deferential. "The... the deal was compromised. That vigilante—"
The voice on the other end cut him off, cold and sharp like the edge of a blade. "I don't want excuses. I want solutions. You've embarrassed the syndicate, and I don't tolerate failure."
The subordinate swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Understood, boss. I'll take care of it."
"You better. If you can't handle this, I'll send someone who can," the voice warned before the line went dead.
He slammed the phone onto the table, his frustration bubbling over. Before he could collect his thoughts, the sound of heavy boots echoed down the hall. The door creaked open, and in walked a man who carried an air of authority and menace.
Lopart, the Axiom Syndicate's Operation Overseer, was a tall, wiry figure with sharp features and piercing eyes. His tailored suit was immaculate, but there was an unsettling coldness in his demeanor.
The subordinate straightened immediately. "Lopart, I—"
"Save it," Lopart interrupted, his voice low but commanding. He sat down at the table, his fingers drumming against the wood. "The boss sent me to clean up your mess. Now, tell me everything about this... vigilante."
The subordinate recounted the events, sparing no detail. Lopart listened intently, his expression unreadable. When the subordinate finished, Lopart leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
"So, a little vigilante thinks he can disrupt our operations," Lopart mused. "How quaint."
"What should we do?" the subordinate asked, desperation creeping into his voice.
Lopart's smirk widened. "We'll stage a heist—a perfect trap. This time, we'll make sure he doesn't walk away."
---
The Plan
Lopart laid out the details with precision, his mind working like a well-oiled machine. The heist would target a jewelry store in the heart of the city, a high-profile location guaranteed to attract attention. Among the team of criminals, Lopart had recruited a wildcard—Lu Shueng, a former martial artist turned hitman.
Lu Shueng was a dangerous man, his reputation built on his unmatched combat skills and his thirst for a worthy opponent. His presence alone was enough to send shivers down the spine of even the most hardened criminals. Lopart knew that if the vigilante showed up, Lu Shueng would be the perfect weapon to take him down.
---
Sid's Workshop
The next day, Sid was notably absent from school. While his friends wondered about his whereabouts, he was holed up in his basement workshop, surrounded by wires, tools, and schematics. His focus was entirely on improving Hayato's gloves, enhancing their durability and functionality.
Sid wiped the sweat from his brow, his face illuminated by the glow of his computer screens. His passion for this work was evident in every meticulous detail. To Sid, this wasn't just about helping Hayato—it was about fulfilling a dream he'd held since childhood.
As a kid, Sid had idolized superheroes. He'd spent hours drawing them, building makeshift gadgets, and dreaming of a world where he could be a part of something greater. Now, working behind the scenes as Hayato's tech support, he felt closer to that dream than ever before.
But his absence didn't go unnoticed. Back at school, Remond's instincts told him something was off. Sid's dedication to their group was unwavering, and his sudden disappearance raised questions.
---
That evening, Sid dozed off at his desk, exhaustion finally catching up to him. He was jolted awake by a loud beep from his computer. His security system had detected a criminal activity—a robbery in progress.
Sid's eyes scanned the screen, his heart racing. This wasn't just any robbery—it was a heist at the biggest jewelry shop of the town. He immediately reached for his headset and dialed Hayato.
---
Hayato was walking home with Yuki, the two of them chatting casually. The night was calm, the streets illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights.
When Sid's call came through, Hayato's demeanor changed instantly. He listened intently as Sid explained the situation, his expression growing serious.
"I'll handle it," Hayato said, his voice firm.
"What's going on?" Yuki asked, sensing the shift in his mood.
"Just... something I need to take care of," Hayato replied, fumbling for an excuse. "It's urgent."
Before Yuki could press further, Hayato turned and ran, disappearing into the night.
Concerned, Yuki pulled out her phone and called Remond. She remembered his advice to contact him if Hayato ever did something out of the ordinary.
---
As Hayato made his way to the scene, the city's lights blurred past him. He donned his gear, his mind focused on the task ahead. He didn't know exactly what he was walking into, but he trusted Sid's guidance.
Meanwhile, Sid monitored the situation from his workshop, his screens displaying live feeds from various security cameras. Despite his confidence in Hayato, a knot of worry formed in his stomach.