The moon hung low in the sky, casting a cold, pale light on the empty streets as Remond stumbled forward, carrying the unconscious Hayato on his back. His every step felt heavier than the last, his breathing labored from both the weight and his rising panic. His mind raced with possibilities, none of them good.
He fumbled for his phone, his bloodied hands shaking as he redialed Master Ho Dieng. The line rang once, twice, then a third time before the familiar voice answered.
"Remond, what's going on?"
"Master… it's Hayato," Remond panted. "He's unconscious… injured… he was attacked. I—" He sucked in a shaky breath. "I need help. Please."
There was a pause, but Ho Dieng's calm voice came through with a sense of urgency. "Where are you now?"
"I'll send you the coordinates," Remond said, his voice trembling as he opened WhatsApp and quickly sent their location. "Please hurry, Master."
"Stay put and protect Hayato. I'm on my way," Ho Dieng replied, his tone reassuring before the call disconnected.
---
Remond was still catching his breath when a familiar chill ran down his spine. A shadow moved in the corner of his vision. He froze, carefully setting Hayato down on the ground, his eyes scanning the dimly lit street.
Out of the shadows stepped Lu Shueng, his figure illuminated under the faint glow of a flickering streetlight. His face bore a dark grin, his knuckles cracked ominously as he approached.
"You're a stubborn one, aren't you?" Lu Shueng growled, his voice low and menacing. "Hand him over, boy. You've got no idea who you're messing with."
Remond straightened, his fists clenched. "You'll have to go through me first."
Lu Shueng's grin widened. "I was hoping you'd say that."
Without warning, Lu Shueng lunged, his fist arcing toward Remond with terrifying speed. Remond ducked just in time, countering with a swift punch aimed at Lu Shueng's ribs. The hitman blocked it with ease, grabbing Remond's wrist and twisting it, forcing him to his knees.
"You're out of your league, kid," Lu Shueng sneered.
Gritting his teeth, Remond twisted his body, breaking free from the hold. He retaliated with a kick to Lu Shueng's knee, forcing the hitman to stumble back. But Lu Shueng recovered quickly, his eyes blazing with fury.
The fight escalated. Blows were exchanged in a brutal flurry, each hit more vicious than the last. Remond's knuckles bled from the force of his punches, and his muscles screamed in protest, but he refused to back down.
---
Lu Shueng's attacks were relentless, his movements precise and calculated. Remond dodged and blocked as best he could, but it was clear he was at his limit. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his vision blurred with sweat and blood.
"Is this all you've got?" Lu Shueng taunted, landing a brutal kick to Remond's side that sent him sprawling.
Remond groaned, forcing himself back to his feet. He couldn't give up—not with Hayato's life on the line. He clenched his fists, his body trembling as he faced Lu Shueng once more.
The hitman smirked. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that. But it won't save you."
As Lu Shueng charged again, a sharp whistle cut through the air. Both fighters froze as a figure emerged from the shadows—a man with an aura of calm authority.
---
Master Ho Dieng stepped into the dim light, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. "That's enough," he said, his voice firm and unwavering.
Lu Shueng laughed, though there was a flicker of unease in his eyes. "And who are you supposed to be? The cavalry?"
Ho Dieng didn't respond. Instead, he turned to Remond. "Take Hayato and leave. Now."
"But, Master—"
"Go!" Ho Dieng's voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument.
Reluctantly, Remond obeyed, scooping Hayato onto his back and staggering away. He cast one last glance over his shoulder, watching as Ho Dieng squared off against Lu Shueng.
---
Lu Shueng smirked, cracking his knuckles. "You've got guts, old man. Let's see if you've still got the skills to back it up."
Ho Dieng remained silent, his stance relaxed but purposeful. The air seemed to shift around him as he exhaled slowly, his presence commanding.
Lu Shueng struck first, his fist aiming for Ho Dieng's chest. The master sidestepped effortlessly, countering with a sharp strike to Lu Shueng's shoulder. The hitman grunted, staggering back but quickly regaining his balance.
The fight that followed was a dance of precision and power. Ho Dieng's movements were fluid and calculated, each strike delivered with pinpoint accuracy. Lu Shueng, despite his injuries, fought with the ferocity of a cornered beast.
The alley echoed with the sound of blows landing, the clash of fists and feet against flesh and bone. Lu Shueng's frustration grew as Ho Dieng continued to evade and counter, his strikes wearing the hitman down.
"You're good," Lu Shueng admitted, his breathing heavy. "But you're not invincible."
"No one is," Ho Dieng replied calmly, delivering a swift kick to Lu Shueng's chest that sent him crashing into a stack of crates.
---
Bruised and battered, Lu Shueng pulled himself to his feet, his eyes darting around for an escape route. He knew he couldn't win—not against this man.
"This isn't over," he growled before disappearing into the shadows, his figure swallowed by the night.
Ho Dieng watched him go, his expression unreadable. He stood still for a moment, his breathing steady despite the intensity of the fight. Then, he turned and walked in the direction Remond had gone, his pace unhurried but purposeful.
---
Remond had managed to find a safe spot in an abandoned building, carefully laying Hayato down on a makeshift bed of old blankets. His own body ached, his knuckles swollen and bloodied, but his concern was solely on his friend.
When Ho Dieng arrived, Remond stood, relief washing over him. "Master… thank you."
Ho Dieng nodded, kneeling beside Hayato to assess his condition. "You did well, Remond. But this is far from over."
Remond's fists clenched. "Who was that man?"
"We'll find out," Ho Dieng said, his voice steady. "But for now, we need to focus on keeping both of you safe."
As the night stretched on, the three of them remained in the quiet sanctuary, the weight of the evening's events heavy in the air. The battle had been won, but the war was far from over.