As the clock hit 11 am, we got to the hospital with Mark. The doctors and nurses took care of him fast, checking his injuries and fixing them up. Luckily, it turned out that Mark wasn't as severe as they initially appeared.
[Thomas Halloway decided to handle the situation himself by confronting Albert Capone directly. He shared his plan with us before we went to the hospital with Mark. Thomas made it clear that he was determined to confront Albert Capone personally and put a stop to the gang's trouble.]
After checking Mark carefully and doing a few small treatments, the doctors said he'd be fine with some rest. We felt relieved and thanked the hospital workers before getting ready to take Mark back home.
As we walked home, I felt uneasy. I thought we were being followed. When I looked back, I saw some shady people following us from afar.
"I think we're being followed," I whispered to Chris and Emily, my voice tense with apprehension.
Chris's face turned serious as he glanced at the shady figures behind us. "Yeah, I see them too," he whispered, his hand inching toward his pocket where he kept his pocket knife.
Emily held onto Mark's arm tighter, her eyes darting nervously towards the group following us. "What should we do, Michael?" she asked, her voice shaky with fear.
Before I could say anything, one of the people from the group came closer. He looked confident and mean. "Hey, look who's here," he said in a nasty tone. "Thought you could get away from us, huh?"
"Who are you guys, and how did you track us down?" I asked, confused by their sudden presence.
The guy with the black hair smirked as he stepped forward, saying, "Our boss thinks you messed with one of us. You see He's all about taking care of his crew." His grin looked mean, and his eyes showed he was up to no good.
The atmosphere became even more tense as the guy with black hair moved closer, holding a knife with a scary grin. "That's why all of you are going to die by us," he said angrily, his voice filled with hatred.
As I tried to make sense of the situation, I couldn't help but blurt out, "Where are your guns?" I was taken aback by their decision to wield knives instead of firearms.
The black-haired man scoffed, dismissing my question with a wave of his hand. "Pff, we don't need guns for a little kids like you," he sneered, his tone full of disdain.
I felt a surge of protectiveness toward my friends. "Mark, Emily, and Chris, stay behind. I'll handle this," I instructed firmly, stepping forward to shield them.
But Chris was quick to object, his stance defiant. "No, we're gonna handle it. I know martial arts too, you know that," he asserted, determination flashing in his eyes.
Feeling a mix of frustration and concern, I relented. "Fine, but Mark, you stay here and protect Emily," I instructed, emphasizing the importance of their safety.
But Mark's response surprised me. "I can fight too," he declared, determination shining in his eyes.
Quickly, I shook my head, refusing to entertain the idea. "No, Mark. You're still recovering from your injuries. Your priority is to protect Emily, your girlfriend," I insisted, emphasizing the need for caution.
Mark paused, realizing how serious the situation was. He nodded, he reluctantly agreed, after all he knows the importance of keeping Emily safe. "You're right," he agreed, his voice showing he was determined. "I'll make sure Emily stays safe, no matter what."
Mark nodded, determination glinting in his eyes as he positioned himself protectively beside Emily.
With a shared nod, Chris and I prepared to face the approaching threat, ready to defend ourselves and our friends against the gangsters.
As the situation grew tense, I turned to Mark and Emily, my voice filled with urgency. "Mark, Emily, be careful," I said firmly, my concern evident in my tone.
Mark nodded, his eyes reflecting his determination to protect Emily. "We'll watch out for each other, Michael," he assured me, his voice steady despite the looming danger.
Emily gripped Mark's hand tightly, her expression one of determination mixed with fear. "We'll stay close and stay safe," she promised, her voice quivering slightly.
[Meanwhile]
Thomas Halloway, also known as The Angel, quickly grabbed his guns, a smoke bomb, and his hook. But he left his cape behind since he wasn't a hero anymore. With a determined look on his face, he headed towards Albert Capone's territory to deal with the gang.
Chris Hilton had shared the location of Capone's territory with Thomas Halloway earlier. Before heading to the hospital to assist Mark, Chris informed Thomas about the area he had once visited when his dad had business dealings with Capone.
"Now let's do this," said Thomas Halloway with determination.
Quietly and carefully, Thomas Halloway sneaked into the Capone mansion without anyone noticing. He relied on his long years of experience to move around the unfamiliar place without being seen by the guards or security. Every step he took brought him nearer to his goal. He was determined to proceed, even though he knew there were dangers ahead.
Finding a hiding spot in the mansion's attic, Thomas Halloway settled in, keeping a keen eye on his surroundings. From this vantage point, he could observe the mansion's activities without being noticed. The attic offered both concealment and a strategic position,
allowing Thomas to plan his next move carefully. Even though the attic was small and cramped, Thomas stayed focused on his mission.
He was determined to gather information that would help him confront Albert Capone and stop his criminal activities.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
As Thomas moved around the mansion, he saw someone fiddling with the bookshelves. Suddenly, they clicked something, and the bookshelves transformed into a door with the push of a hidden mechanism.
"It looks like there's something else going on here. I've got to follow them without them seeing me," Thomas Halloway whispered to himself, resolved to uncover the mystery behind the secret door without alerting anyone to his presence.
[Meanwhile]
As I assessed the situation, I realized there were fifteen of them, outnumbering us. I turned to Chris and quickly devised a plan. "I'll take on ten of them, and you handle the remaining five. I'm sure you can handle them," I said confidently, knowing Chris's strength and abilities.
Chris nodded, his expression determined as he prepared to face his opponents. "Got it," he affirmed, his voice resolute.
Although I knew Chris wasn't as strong as Brad Larson, a renowned practitioner of jiujitsu and boxing, I had faith in his abilities. Chris may not be the strongest, but he was certainly formidable in his own right.
With our plan in place, I steeled myself for the impending confrontation, ready to face the gangsters head-on alongside Chris.
As the tension in the air thickened, I took a deep breath, centering myself for the upcoming fight. With resolve fueling my every move, I stepped forward to confront the approaching gangsters.
The gang leader looked at us with a mean look. "You think you're tough? You're about to get beat up real bad," he said in a cocky way.
As the gang leader boasted and jeered at us, I prepared myself mentally and physically for the upcoming brawl. Drawing upon my training and instincts, I launched a rapid series of well-executed strikes, each one intended to quickly disable my adversaries.
I began by throwing a straight punch directly at the jaw of the closest gang member, swiftly followed by a hook punch aimed at the temple of another assailant. As they stumbled from the force of my blows, I landed a forceful back fist to the nose of a third attacker, causing him to stagger backward.
As the chaos unfolded, two of the gangsters turned their attention toward Mark and Emily, Ready to lunge at them "Stay away from them!" I shouted, my voice filled with determination as I shielded Mark and Emily from harm. Reacting quickly, I spun around and delivered a forceful back kick right into the closest assailant's gut, sending him stumbling backward. With perfect timing, I spun around and kicked the second attacker in the head. He wasn't expecting it and stumbled, almost falling down.
Mark's eyes widened in surprise and gratitude as he watched me defend them. "Thanks, Michael," he said earnestly, his voice tinged with relief. "You're a lifesaver."
With a nod, I reassured them, "Your'e Welcome, I've got this. Just stay behind me and stay safe."
Taking advantage of the moment, I swiftly moved toward another gangster, using a series of quick moves to stay in control. First, I delivered a strong punch to the stomach of one attacker, aiming for the soft area just below the ribcage. Then, without hesitation, I landed a flurry of rapid punches to the chests and stomachs of the other gang members, keeping them off balance and unable to retaliate.
As I kept hitting the gangsters, I aimed a strong punch right at the side of one guy's head. He fell down immediately. I stayed calm and kept attacking, looking for any chance to strike.
[Meanwhile on the side]
Chris used his pocket knife skillfully. He aimed for vulnerable spots on his opponents' bodies, quickly and accurately striking with his weapon. With each movement, he made sure to hit where it would hurt the most. He stabbed one of the attackers on the right side of his body, immediately disabling him.
As another gang member rushed forward, Chris skillfully dodged the attack, stabbing swiftly at his assailant's left chest. Then, in a fluid motion, he aimed a precise strike at the attacker's left lower leg, causing him to lose balance and stagger.
After the fight, I looked at Chris. He did a great job handling his opponents quickly and effectively. We stood there, safe and victorious, after defending ourselves and our friends from the gangsters' attack. With the threat neutralized, we made sure Mark, Emily, and we were all okay before figuring out what to do next.
After the fight, Mark's voice broke the momentary silence. "We have to go and save Sir Thomas," he said urgently, his concern for our mentor evident in his tone.
"Well, I'm sure Teacher Thomas can handle it," I said with forced confidence, trying to reassure Mark. However, in my thoughts, I was already planning to go there as Spiderman to save Teacher Thomas.
Mark's voice interrupted my thoughts, filled with genuine fear and concern. "Michael! I don't want something bad to happen again. I don't want Teacher Thomas to die like Teacher Dan."
"Oops, I messed up," I thought to myself, feeling the weight of the situation. "I didn't mean that. I'll will save him as Spiderman, not as Michael Wilson," I resolved silently, knowing I couldn't voice my plan to Mark.
"Sorry, Mark," I apologized, feeling a pang of guilt for my slip-up. "But I can't let you go there. It's too dangerous. How about this: I go, and you three stay here."
But Mark's response was unexpected and fiery. "Fuck that, Michael," he retorted, his voice filled with determination. "Do you think I'll let my friend get harmed?"
Feeling conflicted but determined to keep Mark safe, I sighed heavily. "You leave me no choice," I murmured, regret weighing heavily on my heart. With a sense of duty, I swiftly struck the back of Mark's neck, causing him to collapse unconscious.
As Mark fell unconscious, Emily and Chris looked on with concern etched on their faces. "Michael, what did you do?" Emily exclaimed, her voice filled with worry.
I turned to Emily, trying to reassure her. "Mark is still recovering, remember? That's why he has to stay here with you. Take care of him for me," I said gently, emphasizing the importance of Mark's well-being.
Then, I looked Chris in the eye, my expression serious. "Chris, you also need to stay here. Take care of them for me," I instructed firmly, hoping he would understand the gravity of the situation.
But Chris's response caught me off guard. "What am I, an old man taking care of them? And besides, trust Emily, Michael. She can protect herself and Mark," he retorted, his tone defiant. Surprised by Chris's insistence, I hesitated.
"I'm coming with you," he declared, his determination evident in his voice.
Shaking my head, I tried to dissuade him. "What? Why? You know it's dangerous. They have guns and other things. They're not like these mobs here who only have knives," I argued, concerned for his safety.
Chris scoffed at my concern. "I know that, Michael. Do you think I'm stupid?" he countered, his tone firm. "Besides, ever since I was just a child, I've been exposed to dangers. After all, being one of the richest has many downsides like assassination and plotting schemes. That's why I trained myself in Arnis and Boxing to protect myself."
I paused, feeling unsure about what to do. On one hand, I wanted to ensure my friends' safety, but Chris's determination to help was clear and strong. His confidence seemed to shine through the doubt like a guiding light.
"But..." I began, my voice faltering with indecision.
Chris quickly interrupted me, his tone resolute and firm. "No buts," he said firmly, his eyes showing he meant business. ""Just think of me as your sidekick, fighting some crimes," he suggested with a hint of jest, trying to lighten the mood.
"Michael, I can't leave you, man," Chris continued, his voice filled with genuine concern. "After all, you are our friend. That's why I'm coming with you. At least I could also save you when it comes to danger, just like how you save us," Chris said with resolve, his voice filled with sincerity.
I gave in, knowing Chris was as determined as he was skilled. "Fine, but make sure to stay safe, okay?" I said, worried about him.
"Okay, Michael," Chris responded, his tone firm but lighthearted..
To be continued