The air in the alleyway was growing colder by the second, thick with the smell of damp brick, rust, and the metallic tang of blood.
Reian lay curled on his side, his vision swimming as he tried to blink away the dark spots dancing across his eyes.
Every breath felt like inhaling shattered glass.
“Nothing but schoolbooks,” one of the thugs grunted, kicking Reian’s split backpack into a puddle.
“The kid wasn’t lying.
He’s completely broke.”
The leader, Scarface, spat on the concrete right next to Reian’s head.
He pulled his heavy, steel-toed boot back, aiming it straight at Reian’s exposed chest.
“Useless brat.
Let’s make sure he remembers not to waste our time next time.”
“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM!”
A roar tore through the narrow corridor, so raw and furious it sounded less like a teenager and more like a wild animal protecting its pack.
Before any of the three thugs could even turn their heads, a shadow burst into the alleyway.
Flame didn’t just run; he moved at an impossible, terrifying speed, a blur of motion slicing through the dim yellow light.
Using a stack of old wooden pallets as a launching pad, Flame launched his body into the air.
He spun flawlessly, delivering a devastating flying kick straight into Scarface’s jaw.
CRACK.
The sound of shattering bone echoed off the brick walls.
The sheer momentum of the strike lifted the heavy leader completely off his feet, sending him crashing sideways into a row of metal trash cans.
He slumped forward onto the concrete, completely knocked out cold before his head even hit the ground.
The remaining two thugs scrambled backward, their jaws dropping as they stared at the red-haired whirlwind that had just dropped their boss in a single second.
“What the hell—?!”
Flame didn’t give them a chance to breathe.
The laid-back, joking brother from the convenience store was entirely gone.
His amber eyes were flashing with absolute, lethal intensity.
Dropping into a low stance, he closed the distance to the second thug.
The man threw a desperate, wild punch, but Flame ducked under the clumsy swing with ease.
He drove a brutal left hook straight into the guy’s ribs, followed by a sweeping low kick that swept his legs clean out from under him.
The thug hit the ground with a sickening thud, groaning in agony.
However, as Flame focused on pinning the second guy down, the third thug panicked.
Realizing he was completely outmatched in a fistfight, his eyes grew crazed and desperate.
He reached into his waistband and pulled out a gleaming, jagged switchblade.
The silver metal caught the flickering streetlamp with a sharp, ominous clack.
Stepping into Flame’s blind spot, the thug lunged, driving the blade directly at Flame’s exposed back.
From his place in the dirt, Reian’s blurred vision suddenly locked onto the flash of silver steel.
His heart stopped.
“FLAME!
BEHIND YOU!!
WATCH OUT!!”
In that exact split second, a sudden, electric heat surged through Reian’s battered body, completely masking the agonizing pain in his ribs.
Defying his injuries, he threw himself forward, lunging between his brother and the descending knife.
There was no time to block, no time to think.
Reian simply thrust his bare right hand forward and grabbed the naked, razor-sharp blade.
The thug’s eyes widened to the size of saucers as the knife stopped dead in mid-air.
Before he could pull the weapon back, Reian clenched his fist around the steel.
With a terrifying burst of raw, inexplicable strength, he twisted his wrist.
SNAP.
The steel blade shattered into pieces, clattering uselessly onto the wet concrete.
Deep, jagged gashes ripped across Reian’s palm, and a heavy stream of crimson blood immediately began to pour from his hand, pooling onto the dirty ground.
The thug stared at the broken plastic hilt in his hand, then looked up at Reian’s unyielding, fierce expression.
The man’s face drained of all color.
“M-Monster…” the thug stammered, his voice shaking.
He dropped the handle, grabbed his groaning conscious partner, dragged their passed-out leader, and bolted out of the alleyway as fast as his legs could carry them.
Breathing heavily, Reian sank back to his knees as the adrenaline began to fade, the white-hot pain in his hand rushing back in.
Without a word, he aggressively ripped off his school uniform tie and wrapped it tightly around his bleeding palm, pulling the knot shut with his teeth to stem the flow.
Flame rushed over, dropping to his knees beside him, his hands trembling slightly as he stared at the blood-soaked fabric.
“Are you completely insane?!
Who grabs a knife blade with their bare hand?!”
Reian winced as the pressure hit the cuts, but he looked up, forcing a weak, exhausted smile through the soot on his face.
“We only have each other, right?
I wasn’t going to sit here and watch him drive a knife into your back.”
Flame froze, the anger completely draining from his face.
He went quiet for a long moment, looking down at his brother’s bleeding hand, a heavy, unspoken wave of gratitude washing over him.
He let out a soft breath and carefully extended a hand, pulling Reian up and draping his uninjured arm over his shoulder to take his weight.
“Come on,” Flame said softly.
“Let’s just go home.”
Side by side, the two orphan brothers walked out of the shadows of the alleyway, holding each other up as the final rays of the evening sun sank below the city skyline.
They made it out alive.
But as night fell, Reian’s real battle to recover was just beginning…
hope you enjoyed the third chapter!