Brandon, Ethan, and Flux strode through the dim hallway, boots echoing on the worn wood. Ethan spoke low but firm. "When we're out there, no eye contact. No slip-ups. Act like we don't know them. One mistake, and they'll sniff us out."
Flux grinned. "Play dumb? I was born ready."
Brandon narrowed his eyes. "What's Mushroom Head hiding this time?"
Flux scoffed. "I have a name, you oversized brick—"
Ethan cut between them. "Enough! Save it. Now move. I'm starving."
They paused.
Flux blinked. "You're serious?"
Ethan shrugged. "What? You expect me to wage war on an empty stomach? Let's go."
Moments later, Madam Nanali served their plates. But the door creaked open—and tension sliced the air.
Ruffians stepped in. One of them—Zayan.
He barked a command in Kreyòl: "Alô, kotè gason-an?"
Jason stiffened from across the room, eyes locking onto the second man. Recognition struck—the thug whose arm he broke.
Jason's smirk was faint but lethal. "He brought friends."
The thug answered, pointing. "Anbola, chèf."
Zayan swaggered forward until Madam Nanali blocked him, fire in her eyes. "Zayan! I told you never to show your face here again."
He gave a casual smirk. "Eh ben, mwen jis vini pou on ti bagay."
"Ti bagay?" Nanali snapped. "What kind of 'thing'?"
Zayan ignored her, turning to his man. "Koté li?"
The man nodded at Jason. "La I yè."
Zayan walked straight to Jason's table and dropped into the seat opposite him. "You speak English or Kreyòl?"
Jason's voice was ice. "What do you want?"
Zayan grinned, draping an arm over the thug's shoulder. "My guy here says you've got something that belongs to him… and he wants it back."
Brandon leaned forward, tense. "What the hell's going on?"
Ethan put a hand on his shoulder. "Stay calm. If you charge in now, it'll blow everything. Jason's got this."
Brandon hesitated. "We're trusting him with this…"
But Flux wasn't listening. His eyes were locked on the confrontation. A sharp, dangerous grin tugged at his lips.
Brandon noticed. "Hey. You've been smirking all morning. You got something to do with this?"
Flux stayed silent, that grin never fading.
Brandon stood, his voice low and deadly. "If I find out you set this up… I'll kill you myself."
Flux leaned back in his seat, unfazed, the corner of his lip curling into a lazy smirk. "Relax, Brickhead. I didn't stir this pot—why would I? Right now, I'm just a stranger in the room, remember?" His gaze sharpened suddenly, voice dropping lower. "And if you don't shut off that bloodlust… you're gonna get us all killed. Assassins can smell it like blood in the water."
Brandon clenched his fists, jaw tightening.
Ethan stepped between them before it escalated. "He's right," he said calmly, eyes flicking between the two. "Now's not the time. So chill. Both of you."
Flux didn't even blink, still watching the tension boil. "Let Jason handle the fire. He's already in the kitchen."
Jason's eyebrow flicked up. "And what's that, exactly?"
Zayan's lips curled into a calm smile. He leaned forward. "Tifi—ai."
Jason's voice cut the air like steel: "His what?"
The grin flickered from Zayan's face. "Oh, I meant…" His words trailed into silence.
"I heard you the first time." Jason's tone was ice. "Just don't confuse yourself. She's mine."
The thug from before snarled and stepped forward, clearly trying to get in Jason's face. "Don't act like you don't know me!" He spat. "You almost broke my hand that day!"
Jason's smirk was slow and cold. "Oh—sorry about that."
The thug's face lit up with almost-pleasure. Then Jason added quietly, "I guess I should've just broken both your arms."
That was the final drop. The thug lunged—pure rage.
Jason watched, silent, every subtle shift in posture registered. "Should I dodge?" he mused—his mind racing. "No… if I do it'll only raise suspicions."
The punch came. Slow. Clumsy. Too predictable. Jason allowed the blow to land. He hit the floor. The thug roared. "How d'you like that, bastard?!"
The ruffians cheered. Zayan crouched beside Jason, looking into his eyes from inches away. "Something tells me you could've easily dodge that but chose not too," he murmured. "But who cares?" He straightened, widening his arms. "Listen up—this is the game. Winner takes the girl. Loser gets demolished. You're our opponent now."
Jason rolled to his knees, face composed. "And why would I play by your rules? She's mine already."
Zayan stood, face still smiling, eyes cold. "Because you have no choice. My man's in love with your girl." He paused, voice low. "If you won't fight—then you die. Consider it mercy."
Madam Nanali snapped at that. "You think you can trash my inn like last time? What are you, some shameless brute?!"
Zayan laughed. "Don't worry—I'll pay for damages. Maybe more."
The announcer stepped into the ring of faces. "Let the battle begin! No rules. Do whatever it takes to survive."
The thug snarled at Jason. "Mwen kay pwof otesa ou malp-wop!"
Jason's gaze, calm and steely, remained unblinking. His internal voice scanned the scene.— They're too sure of themselves… cocky, like they've already won.
They don't even know who their opponent is.So either they're stupid… or they're hiding something.—still. Bad move. He flexed without showing.
"Good," he said quietly. "Because I'm not fighting for rules. I'm fighting for hers."
Just then, Zayan stepped up to Jason, extending a hand with a sly smile.
"Here—just wanted to wish you luck," he said smoothly, "You'll need it."
Jason didn't move right away. His eyes didn't meet Zayan's—no, they dropped to the hand.
He saw it instantly.
A barely visible tranquilizer needle tucked subtly between Zayan's fingers.
Ah. So that's your move.
Jason didn't flinch. No reaction showed on his face—only silence.
His thoughts moved fast. If I refuse, they'll smell blood. It'll raise suspicion, and things will go south fast. Honestly, I could end this whole room in seconds… but not without drawing fire onto Liam and the others.
He took a breath.
This fight was never fair to begin with. What they don't know… is who they're really dealing with.
Jason finally reached out and clasped Zayan's hand.
The needle slid in.
A sting—barely noticeable.
Zayan's smile widened like he'd already won. "There we go," he said softly.
Jason's eyes locked onto his. Calm. Cold. "Unlucky for you… drugs work slow on me—."
Jason's vision blurred—shadows stretched, sounds dulled, and his knees buckled for a split second before he forced himself upright.
His body trembled violently, sweat beading down his jaw.
What the hell...? That wasn't just a tranquilizer.
His breathing turned shallow, vision pulsing like static. His mind fought to stay focused.
Cinnamon…?
His eyes widened slightly in realization.
Cinnamon was mixed in… they laced the tranquilizer with it. That's the only thing that weakens me like this—messes with my senses, slows my nerves, paralyzes my reflexes…
His jaw clenched.
How could they know that? Only high-level S-Ranks knew about that detail…
His eyes flicked to the sidelines.
Zayan's voice sliced through the fog. "Game on," he said, stepping back with that same smug grin.
Jason's lips twitched into a half-smile. Even drugged, even half-paralyzed… he walked straight into the center of the arena.
The crowd was already roaring.
The bell rang.
Brandon's fists were clenched at the back of the room, watching Jason sway on his feet, dodging slower, strikes landing harder.
"Damn it—he's barely standing!" Brandon growled. "I'm going in—"
Ethan blocked him with an arm, voice cold and sharp. "Don't. Worst-case scenario—we leave both Jason and Daphne behind."
Brandon grabbed his collar. "What the hell are you saying?!"
Ethan's eyes didn't waver. "I'm saying what you already know. The mission comes first. No matter how strong Jason is—if we blow our cover now, we might loose Liam. And we don't have any gun fire or whatsoever to get him back."
Brandon hesitated—his grip loosening.
Ethan continued, his voice low and steady. "They drugged him. That's why he's this slow. And even if they hadn't, Jason couldn't go all-out. If he did… he'd give himself away."
Brandon stepped back, breath shaky.
How did they know about cinnamon? he thought. Only top-level S-Ranks—
He froze.
Minutes later, the fight ended. The thug had barely won. The crowd erupted into cheers as Jason lay pinned under two men, his chest rising and falling, eyes burning with simmering rage.
Brandon stood at the edge of the ring, fists clenched so tight the knuckles split and bled. He'd been told to stay back—watch—and it killed him to follow the rules.
Then a figure slipped silently from the crowd. Low voice: "Interesting… those moves. I'll report back."
"Brandon—12:00," Ethan mouthed.
Brandon didn't hesitate. He moved like a shadow, slid behind the figure and snapped his arm back hard—one hit, and the stranger hit the floor.
But the cost: the phone in the stranger's hand flicked to life, a blurred message sent: "This is 038… I found something…" before Brandon's boot came down.
Back at HQ: alarms.
"Sir—signal from 038…"
Aiden blinked.
"Gone."
Bon laughed softly. "Signals don't just vanish. Where was it last?"
"Small town… down east."
"Good enough," Bon said. "Let's move."
—
At the inn, Liam and Xiomara played, but something cracked the calm—a window shattered downstairs.
Daphne froze. "What's that sound?"
Xiomara already stirring. "Mwen enka alè gade sa."
"Hold on," Daphne said to Liam, who was already behind xiomara "Stay. With me.We move together it could be dangerous"
Jason was down—bloodied, bruised, laughter echoing around him like a taunt from hell. Fists and boots rained down, but he didn't move.
Not because he couldn't.
Because he was thinking.
"This is pathetic…"
His inner voice sharpened like a blade.
"Should I just abandon the mission… and kill every last one of them?"
A slow, twisted smile spread across his face.
"Yes... that's exactly what I'll do. After all they're nothing but trash."
And then—it happened.
The air shifted. Heavy. Suffocating. A wave of pure bloodlust exploded from Jason's body like a pulse of silent thunder. The laughter stopped. The normies felt uneasy, but didn't understand why.
But Flux, Brandon, and Ethan—they knew.
Flux's smile faded. Brandon's heart dropped. Ethan's eyes widened as cold sweat traced his spine.
"W-we can't let this continue," Ethan whispered. "If Jason snaps, no one here makes it out alive."
He turned to the others, voice firm. "On my mark, we grab Liam and get out."
They nodded.
"Three…"
"Two…"
Before he could say "one"—a voice called out.
"Pop?"
Liam and Daphne had just entered. Liam's breath hitched as his eyes scanned the carnage. Blood pooled a savage ring of destruction. And in the center, Jason—still. Head lowered. His aura screaming death.
Liam's heart pounded as he locked eyes with Jason.
"What's happening to him?"he whispered.
Then he saw the goons—pinning Jason down.
"HEY!" Liam shouted, voice shaking with raw emotion. "Get away from my DAD!"
The entire room gasped.
"Did he say… dad?"
"Wait… what?"
"He has a kid?"
"Did that boy just call him Dad?!"
Jason's eyes twitched. The word pierced his madness like a blade.
The crowd began to murmur. Confused. Nervous.
Liam didn't care. He stepped forward.
And in that moment, Jason's rage faltered. His vision cleared—just enough to see Liam standing there, fists clenched, defiance in his voice, fear in his eyes.
Even Zayan blinked, caught off guard. "Hold up… the guy had a son?!"
He spun on the thug who had fought Jason. "You idiot! Why didn't you tell me?!"
The thug recoiled as Zayan twisted his arm violently.
"Argh—I didn't think it mattered!"
Zayan's voice boomed, rage spilling out. "
Didn't think it mattered?! That's the kind of detail that gets us all killed, you imbecile!"
Meanwhile, across the room, Liam stood frozen—eyes wide, trembling. "You heard me!" he shouted, voice cracking. "Get away from my—!"
But his words faltered.
Suddenly, memories surged like crashing waves—visions. Blurred. Flashes of a shadowed figure falling… another racing in to shield him. Voices muffled in chaos. A bloodied hand reaching out. A face—familiar but faded.
Liam clutched his chest. "What… what is this feeling?"
A heavy ache clawed at him—something primal.
"Why does this feel like… I've lost someone before?"
He shook his head hard. "No… no time for that." His breath steadied. "Stay focused."
Then, without warning, he broke into a sprint—dodging stunned goons like a blur, ducking under arms and leaping over debris. Straight toward Jason.
And when he reached him—he didn't speak. He just grabbed him—throwing his arms around his bloodied frame and burying his face in his chest.
Jason blinked, shaken from his daze. "Liam…?"
"I thought I lost you…" Liam choked out, his voice cracking. "I thought they took you from me…"
Jason looked down at the trembling boy clinging to him, and something shifted. That sharp edge in his eyes melted.
He wrapped one arm around Liam, resting a bloodied hand on his head.
"I'm here," he said, voice low but steady. "Thanks to you… I'm still standing."
Liam looked up, eyes glassy.He thought "This feeling… it's happened before,This fear of losing someone I care about…"
Liam spoke softly, concern laced in his voice, "Are you okay?"
Jason blinked slowly. "Yeah—" he paused, eyes losing focus, "but... I feel... drowsy..." His vision blurred, body weakening.
Before he could slump, Brandon swooped in, catching him effortlessly. "Jason! Stay with me!" he growled.
"Over here!" Daphne called urgently, already leading the way.
Minutes Later...
Jason lay unconscious on the bed, sweat on his brow, wrapped in bandages. Daphne knelt beside him, her hands trembling slightly. Brandon stood silently at the corner, arms crossed, eyes locked on the door.
Then—Jason's eyes snapped open.
Daphne jumped. "Jason—you're awake?! Are you alright?!"
Jason's gaze drifted to her, calm but distant. "Yeah. I'm fine."
Brandon exhaled in relief. "Tch. Took you long enough."
Daphne, regaining composure, grabbed a small jar from the table. "Can you sit up? We treated your wounds, but Madam Nanali gave us something stronger. It should help."
Jason nodded and pulled himself up with ease. As he did, Daphne froze.
He wasn't wearing a shirt.
Her eyes involuntarily traced the scars across his back, every line etched with battles fought. His muscles tensed and flexed naturally. She could feel heat rising to her face.Brandon, you idiot, why'd you take off his shirt?!
She caught herself staring and looked away sharply, flustered.
Jason noticed. Calmly, without turning, he asked, "Something wrong?"
"N–No!" she stammered. "Just applying the ointment now."
She climbed gently onto the bed behind him, her hands brushing his skin as she dabbed the cool balm along his shoulder blades. Her thoughts were a mess. His back... so solid... why is my heart racing? Focus, Daphne, focus!
"Higher," Jason murmured suddenly.
She flinched. "Here?"
"No..."
Without warning, he reached back, his hand wrapping around hers, guiding it silently up his back. His touch was firm, steady.
"Here," he said quietly.
Daphne's breath hitched, but she nodded wordlessly.
Neither of them said another word—but the silence between them was electric.
Daphne's hand froze mid-motion. Her breath hitched—Nope. I can't.
Without another word, she stood abruptly. "S–Sorry, excuse me…" and darted out the room.
Jason and Brandon blinked after her.
"…Was it something I said?" Jason asked flatly.
Brandon shrugged, grinning. "No idea. But if she's out, then I guess I'll apply the ointment." He reached for the jar.
Jason's eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare."
Outside, Ethan and Flux were just approaching the door when Daphne rushed past them like a bolt of lightning.
"Hey—wait, Daphne! Is Jason okay—?" Ethan called after her, but she didn't even glance back.
Flux raised a brow. "What the hell was that?"
They entered the room—and paused.
Jason was halfway off the bed, holding Brandon at arm's length by the face.
"Back off!" Jason growled.
Brandon, still grinning like an idiot, pushed forward with the ointment. "Just let me rub your back, man!"
Ethan stared. "Uh… are we… interrupting something sacred here?"
Jason deadpanned, then smacked Brandon across the head.
Brandon yelped and stumbled back. Jason turned to Ethan, voice steady. "Nope. You're right on time."
Ethan sighed and stepped in. "Listen… about earlier. I was ready to leave you behind. That's not something I'm proud of."
Jason waved him off coldly. "Don't apologize. I'd have done worse."
That response caught Ethan off-guard… but it almost made him smile. "Still. You're a hard bastard, Jason."
The moment lingered—until Brandon's tone shifted.
"Enough jokes," he said, voice low and serious. "What I wanna know is… who gave those bastards intel on Jason's allergy."
Ethan turned. "Jason's what?"
Jason didn't answer. He was staring ahead, face unreadable.
Brandon's eyes sharpened. "Only S-Ranks know about that. That narrows things down. Real tight."
Then, slowly, he turned to Flux.
"Which brings me to you, Flux."
Flux stiffened.
Brandon stepped forward, the air around him darkening. "How'd they know? Start talking."
"I—I don't know what you're talking about," Flux said, voice cracking.
Brandon kept walking, low and lethal now. "Lie to me again… and I'll end you right here. Right now. You're just a B-Rank. No one's gonna miss you."
Flux stepped back, eyes wide. "Wait—wait—"
Jason said nothing. He was watching. Waiting.
Flux's back hit the wall. His eyes darted from Brandon's clenched fists to Jason's deadpan stare—it wasn't just a threat anymore. This was an interrogation.
"I swear, I didn't say anything!" Flux choked out. "I wouldn't betray the mission, not for anything."
Brandon's voice dropped lower, dangerous. "Then how did they know Jason's weakness? You don't just guess something that specific."
Ethan stepped forward, eyes narrowed. "We need facts, Flux. Not fear."
Flux's breath hitched. "The only time I ever saw anything was in the S-Rank dossier that accidentally loaded when we were syncing comms last week—I didn't even read it all, I swear!"
Brandon's voice was quiet now, but it cut like a blade. "So… you did see it."
Flux's heart dropped. "Not on purpose!"
Brandon's fist slammed into the wall next to his head, cracking the plaster. "You carelessly leaked intel that nearly got him killed. That's worse than betrayal—it's stupidity."
Flux trembled. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen—"
The room went dead silent. Jason stepped forward, his gaze locked on Flux like a predator cornering prey.
"You're lying," he said coldly. "This wasn't just a slip of information. Syncing comms? That happened two months ago—not last week."
Flux's face went pale, sweat forming at his brow.
Jason tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Someone told you, didn't they? Let me guess… Madame Nanali?"
Flux snapped, "No—it was…" His voice trailed off. He cursed under his breath. "...It was Ava."
Brandon and Ethan exchanged sharp glances, the tension in the room thickening.
Jason's voice dropped, calm but razor-sharp. "Ava leaking intel on me I can believe. But why you? Why did she trust you with that information? You got a problem with me?"
Flux's fists clenched. "You really wanna know why?" His voice rose, laced with frustration. "It's because of you!"
Jason raised an eyebrow, expression unreadable. "Go on."
"You gave me the nickname Mushroom Head, remember?!" Flux snapped.
Jason blinked, stunned. "…Say what now I did what?"