"I'm in my early thirties this year, but I don't have a girlfriend..." Ethan Yang hummed a tune as he rode his electric scooter down the dark path towards home. Just one more big intersection, and then two kilometers later, he'd reach his rented house.
As he approached the crossroads, a red luxury car parked by the side of the road caught his eye. Strangely, the car was shaking slightly.
The car was shaking?
Oh my… Ethan clicked his tongue. "Great, another public display of affection." He was about to ride past when a faint, panicked cry pierced through the night.
"Help! Bastard! Let go of me! Mmph…"
What the hell?! Ethan slammed the brakes and hopped off his scooter. He crept closer and noticed the car door wasn't fully closed — no wonder he could hear the sound.
"Save… Mmmph!"
Without a second thought, Ethan yanked the car door open. A strong smell of alcohol hit him in the face. Inside, a long-legged beauty in revealing clothes was being pinned against the seat by a man in a suit and glasses. The man had one hand covering her mouth while his other hand pressed her down. Startled, he turned and glared at Ethan in panic.
"Hey, having fun there, buddy?" Ethan sneered.
The man blinked in shock before snapping, "Who the hell are you? Can't you see we're having a moment here? Mind your own damn business and get lost!"
"A moment? Please. More like your brain's been hijacked by your pants." Ethan grabbed the guy by the collar and yanked him out of the car like a ragdoll. Before the man could shout, Ethan's palm connected with his face — SMACK!
"You bastard! How dare you hit me?!" The man roared, throwing a punch at Ethan's head.
Ethan had grown up fighting in the countryside. Dodging was second nature. He tilted his head, letting the punch whistle past his ear, and delivered another clean slap that sent the man's glasses flying.
"Ah! Eric, you jerk! How dare you lay your hands on me!" The long-legged beauty stumbled out of the car, her face flushed with anger. She lunged at the man, scratching and slapping him furiously.
Eric yelped, trying to shield himself. "Ow! Zoe, I like you, okay? Ow, stop scratching me!"
Ethan blinked. Wait… they know each other? Did I just jump into something I shouldn't have?
"Get lost! Don't let me see your disgusting face again!" Zoe finally stopped, panting heavily.
Eric scrambled away, glaring at Ethan with pure venom. "You'll regret this, asshole!" He made a finger gun gesture before storming off into the night.
From that look alone, Ethan knew trouble was coming his way. Great. All I wanted was to get home. Why'd I have to play hero tonight?
"Hey, handsome. Thanks for saving me." Zoe brushed her hair back and smiled. "I'm Zoe Night. What's your name?"
"Ethan Yang." He hesitated. "Uh… you really know that guy?"
"Unfortunately, yes. We're part of the same social circle. He used to give me rides home after clubbing. Guess tonight he decided to try something disgusting." She shrugged. "Anyway, what's your number?"
Ethan opened his mouth to protest, but Zoe had already pulled out her phone, called his number, and stuffed his phone back into his pocket with a grin. "There. Now I've got your number. I'll treat you to dinner sometime."
Ethan frowned. Clubbing, revealing clothes, heavy drinking… no wonder that creep got ideas. Still, he kept his thoughts to himself. "You sure you can drive after drinking?" he asked instead.
"Don't worry. I'll call someone to pick me up." She waved him off and started tapping away on her screen.
With nothing else to do, Ethan got back on his scooter and rode off. Once he crossed the intersection and entered the narrow, pitch-black road leading to his neighborhood, his instincts kicked in. Something felt… off.
He slowed down, turned off his lights, and parked in the shadows. Lighting a cigarette, he waited. Sure enough, a car soon arrived at the red luxury car. A man and woman got out, exchanged a few words with Zoe, and then the woman climbed into Zoe's car. The two vehicles drove off together.
Satisfied that she was safe, Ethan mounted his scooter and continued home.
But the night wasn't over yet.
A little further down, a motorcycle was parked diagonally across the road, blocking the path. Standing next to it was a tall man with a long scar running down the side of his face, like a grotesque centipede crawling over his skin. The stitches on either side of the scar made the sight even more chilling.
Ethan's gut tightened. Shit…
The road was too narrow to go around. Left with no choice, Ethan stopped and placed a foot on the ground. "Hey, brother. Your bike's blocking the road. Can you move it?"
The scar-faced man slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke. "You Ethan Yang?"
Ethan blinked. "Who's asking?"
"You don't need to know. Just know this — you're about to meet your ancestors."
Before Ethan could react, the man pulled out a gun with a silencer and fired.
Thwip!
The bullet punched into Ethan's chest, right in the left atrium. Blood sprayed across his shirt as he collapsed into the roadside ditch, his scream lost in the night.