After a long day at school, Lucien walked back to his apartment as the sky turned a deep shade of orange. The city lights flickered to life, illuminating the streets as he made his way home. His expression remained unreadable, his mind processing the events of the day—not that anything particularly significant had happened.
The moment he stepped inside his apartment, he placed his bag down and immediately headed for a quick shower. The warm water cascaded down his toned frame, washing away the exhaustion. His routine was simple. School, training, and ensuring no unnecessary attention was drawn to him.
After changing into his usual workout attire—a black hoodie with the hood up—Lucien left his apartment and began his nightly jog. The city had a different energy at night, quieter yet filled with hidden movements. His sharp senses picked up every small detail, every shifting shadow.
As he turned a corner near a dimly lit park, a faint, distant cry for help caught his ears.
Lucien stopped.
His cold blue eyes flickered toward the source of the noise. A scream—young, desperate. His gaze sharpened as he moved soundlessly toward the alley nearby.
In the narrow space between two buildings, a group of thugs surrounded a boy—no older than ten—whose expensive-looking clothes made it clear he wasn't from an ordinary background. The leader, a rugged man with a scar down his cheek, sneered.
"You rich brats walk around like you own the place," he spat, gripping the boy's collar. "Hand over everything, and maybe we'll let you walk away."
The boy trembled but tried to put on a brave face. Lucien exhaled softly.
"Pathetic."
He stepped forward, his presence alone shifting the atmosphere. The thugs turned their heads, noticing the hooded figure standing at the entrance of the alley. His posture was relaxed, hands in his pockets, but something about him sent a silent chill through the air.
"The hell do you want?" one of the thugs growled.
Lucien's voice was calm, but his words cut through the tension like a blade.
"Let him go."
The leader scoffed. "Or what?"
Lucien tilted his head slightly. "Or you'll regret it."
The group burst into laughter. One of them, gripping a metal pipe, took a step forward.
"You think you can take all of us on, tough guy?"
Lucien didn't respond. Instead, he exhaled slowly and adjusted his stance. The thugs didn't realize it yet, but in that moment, the fight had already ended.
The first thug swung the pipe. Lucien sidestepped effortlessly, grabbing the man's wrist and twisting it in a precise Aikido maneuver. The thug yelped in pain as the pipe clattered to the ground, and in the next instant, Lucien delivered a sharp elbow strike to the jaw, knocking him out cold.
The others barely had time to react before Lucien seamlessly shifted into another stance. One opponent lunged with a knife—Lucien caught his wrist mid-air, his movements fluid as he redirected the attack and sent the man crashing face-first into the pavement using Judo.
A third thug attempted a haymaker punch, only for Lucien to duck low and counter with a clean Wing Chun chain punch—rapid, controlled strikes targeting the chest and jaw. The man's head snapped back before he crumpled to the ground.
The remaining thugs hesitated. One of them, gripping a knife, rushed forward. Lucien switched to Krav Maga, expertly parrying the attack, twisting the man's wrist until the blade clattered to the ground. Without hesitation, he finished it with a Muay Thai clinch, driving a knee into his ribs before tossing him aside.
The final thug turned to run, but Lucien appeared behind him in an instant, whispering in his ear,
"Go."
The man didn't need to be told twice. He bolted, leaving his unconscious comrades behind.
Lucien turned to the boy, who was frozen in shock. "Go home."
The boy gulped and nodded quickly before running off into the night.
---
Meanwhile, the boy rushed into his mansion, breathing heavily. A concerned voice called out from inside.
"What's wrong? Where have you been?"
The boy looked up—his sister, Evelyn Mercer, stood at the entrance, eyes filled with worry.
He hesitated before saying, "I… I was saved by someone."
Evelyn frowned. "Saved? By who?"
The boy thought back to the cold blue eyes beneath the hood, the way his movements were too precise to be ordinary. He shook his head.
"I don't know... but he was terrifying."
---
Later that night, Lucien returned to his apartment. As soon as he stepped inside, his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen—an unknown number.
He let it ring for a few seconds before answering.
Silence.
Then, a familiar, authoritative voice spoke.
"You're not getting too comfortable, are you, Falkner?"
Lucien's expression didn't change, but his grip on the phone tightened slightly.
"Remember why you're there."
The call ended.
Lucien exhaled slowly, his gaze darkening.
They're watching.
End of Chapter 12.