Chapter 2: Sparks in the Dark

The young Black man’s voice cut through the room like a blade, dropping a heavy, suffocating silence over the guards.

Hanabi kept her head lowered, her eyes wide in slow disbelief. The kidnappers' obnoxious laughter had vanished, replaced by a tense, vibrating quiet. Her heart hammered against her ribs, but for a split second, her mind drifted away from the immediate danger.

Why? she thought bitterly. Why did this always happen to me?

Ever since she was a child, whenever things started getting better, something would come along and destroy everything she had worked for. She had endured it all—the ridicule, the failures, the accidents, the endless bad luck. Even when her family stood beside her and encouraged her to keep moving forward, life always seemed determined to knock her back down.

Her spa was gone. People had been hurt. She was trapped in a room full of armed criminals, and judging by the gunshots echoing through the building, she might not even survive the day—all because she was cursed with bad luck.

For a brief moment, a dark thought crossed her mind. Maybe it would be easier to stop fighting. Maybe it would be easier to just give up.

Her eyes trembled.

No...

She rejected the thought instantly. She had sacrificed too much. Worked too hard. Cried too many tears. She couldn't throw all of that away. But she was tied to a chair, surrounded by kidnappers, and completely helpless.

Until this man spoke.

Hanabi’s eyes tracked up from the concrete floor, past his broad chest, and locked onto his face. He looked incredibly cool, entirely composed, staring down the barrels of three automatic rifles as if they were nothing.

The moment the kidnappers realized what he was saying, their shock twisted into explosive rage.

"Hehhh? Who the hell are you talking to? Are you mad?" the lead kidnapper hissed.

Scoffing in arrogance, the leader walked over to a table a few meters away, carelessly tossed his AK-47 onto it, and marched back toward the chairs. The other two guards followed closely behind him.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" one of them barked, aggressively shoving the unknown passenger's head. The man didn't even budge.

Infuriated by his lack of reaction, one of the side guards reared back and threw a heavy punch straight into his face. The man didn't even blink. He just held a cold, lethal death stare, locking his eyes directly onto the lead kidnapper.

The absolute defiance pushed the leader over the edge. "You piece of trash!"

The leader stepped up and unleashed a brutal barrage, punching the passenger five times in rapid succession. With every heavy blow, the man's head snapped backward.

"Now you shut your mouth!" the lead guard snarled, pointing a bloody knuckle at him.

The passenger's head remained turned to the right, his face still tilted from the force of the last punch.

The guard on the right chuckled. "He thinks he's kinda tough."

"Yeah... he might think so," the other two replied, exchanging smirks. The leader leaned in close, mocking him. "Where's that sharp, bold mouth of yours now? We aren't done teaching you a lesson yet."

Slowly, deliberately, the unknown passenger began turning his head back to face the leader.

"Was that it?" the passenger asked. He glanced up at the leader with a calm, emotionless stare, his expression laced with a hint of pure disappointment. "Was that all you got?"

The three guards froze, completely shocked by the steady, unbothered tone of his voice. Looking at his face, it was like he hadn't taken a single ounce of damage. He was completely fine.

The realization made their blood boil.

"You bastard!" the leader screamed.

The leader launched into a furious assault, raining down punches as the other two guards briefly joined in, throwing kicks and blows.

"You jerk, who the hell do you think you are?!" the leader roared, lunging forward to deliver one final, heavy haymaker.

CHNNK!

The sound of shattering iron echoed through the room. With a terrifying burst of raw, superhuman strength, the passenger snapped the heavy chains with his bare hands.

Before the guard on his left could even register the sound, the passenger launched out of the chair like an apex predator. He caught the guard's left arm—the one holding a rifle—and twisted it with brutal force before the man's instincts could even react.

CRACK!

The guard's elbow shattered completely. In the same split second, the passenger stripped the weapon cleanly from his useless grip.

BAM!

The leader's heavy fist struck nothing but empty air, smashing hard into the back of the wooden chair. He lurched forward, his posture bent and unbalanced.

"Argh!" the guard with the broken arm screamed, but the passenger didn't let him drop. Grabbing him by the vest, the passenger hurled the screaming guard directly into the guard on the right with immense force. The two men collided heavily, their heads smashing together in a daze as they stumbled backward.

The leader desperately tried to lift his upper body and turn toward the threat, but he was too slow. As his eyes tracked up to his right, the last thing he saw was a shadow eclipsing the light.

The passenger’s knee came driving upward like a piston, smashing squarely into the leader's face.

The impact was so violent it sent the lead guard flying through the air, his body flipping backward. But before he could even hit the ground, the passenger spun on his heel and violently kicked his airborne body straight at the other two guards.

The two guards were just starting to shake off their dizziness when their leader’s flying body slammed into them. The chain reaction sent all three flying back, their heads cracking hard against the concrete wall.

The two side guards collapsed, completely knocked out cold.

The entire three-on-one beatdown had taken less than five seconds.

Hanabi could only watch from her chair, her jaw dropped in utter shock. Her mind went completely blank, unable to process the raw, calculated violence she had just witnessed.

Silently, the passenger picked up the rifle he had seized from the first guard. He walked over to the wooden table where the other two firearms were resting. With fluid, terrifyingly practiced movements, his fingers flew across the weapons, disassembling them piece by piece, rendering them completely useless.

A groaning sound came from the pile of bodies.

The lead guard, clutching his bloody face and holding his throbbing head, staggered to his feet. He looked over at the table, his vision blurry, and spotted the passenger calmly stripping down the third and final rifle.

"You're awake," the passenger said, his tone almost bright as he slid the final bolt carrier out of the gun.

"You... you got lucky," the lead guard wheezed, cracking his neck and his waist as he tried to steady his stance. "And you're pretty fast, too. That's the only reason you got me. But this time, there won't be any luck left for you."

"Are you sure?" the passenger replied smoothly. He dropped the remaining disassembled parts onto the wood, leaning one hand casually against the table as he glanced back at the criminal. "I think I got you really good."

The leader raised both hands, curling his fingers in a menacing, arrogant gesture. "Then come show me if it really isn't luck, you son of a bitch."

The unknown passenger turned and walked out from behind the table, completely towering over the kidnapper. Both men slowly settled into their fighting stances and locked eyes.

For a moment, the room felt completely frozen. Their gazes burned like those of two predators preparing to tear each other apart, entirely ready for the real fight to begin.

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