August 9th, 2025
At St. Evelyn's Home for Children, South Carolina - 10:12 PM
The road blurred under the headlights. Ricky's black SUV roared through the dark countryside, engine growling like a predator set loose.
Ian's hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned pale. Sweat beaded across his forehead, his heart pounding like a war drum that wouldn't let up.
The clock on the dashboard ticked past midnight, but to him, time had collapsed into a single frantic beat - get to the orphanage. Save them.
His mind kept flashing back to the text message.
There are dangerous men here. Mathilda needs help.
The words burned into his skull, louder than the engine, louder than the road rushing beneath the tires. He had read them once, but they replayed endlessly, each time heavier, each time worse.
He could see Mathilda's frightened eyes. He could picture the little ones - that girl who had laughed with him over the Switch, hiding with trembling hands as she typed those words.
They're looking for a man named Ian.
He had repeated it to himself over and over during the drive, his mind chewing on it like glass. Why me? Who the hell would want me? I'm nobody. I'm not rich. Not powerful. I'm just a washed-up fighter scraping to survive.
Yet the truth was here - men were hunting him. Mathilda and the children had become collateral in whatever twisted reason they had.
By the time the orphanage came into view, Ian's stomach felt like stone. His pulse quickened as he killed the headlights, rolling the SUV to a silent stop just past the gravel drive.
The orphanage loomed ahead like a husk in the night - silent, motionless, its windows darkened except for a faint, flickering glow inside the kitchen.
The forest nearby whispered with the noises of crickets and owls, but the building itself was dead quiet. Too quiet. Like a graveyard.
Then he saw them - two black SUVs parked neatly by the orphanage entrance, their glossy shells catching shards of moonlight. His stomach sank further.
They're here. They're really here.
Ian climbed out, shutting the door gently, every nerve in his body on edge. His fists curled tightly, nails biting into his palms.
The air felt colder now, as though the night itself recoiled from what was happening inside. He crouched low, his boxer's instincts taking over as he crept toward the building, eyes sweeping the perimeter.
The child's warning echoed again. They're looking for Ian.
Me… why me? He clenched his teeth, sweat mixing with the dirt on his brow. None of it made sense, but there was no time to piece the puzzle together. Not when Mathilda and the kids were trapped inside.
At the orphanage door, Ian paused, sucking in a sharp breath. He could hear faint murmurs within - voices, laughter, low and threatening. He pushed the door open, just enough to slip inside.
The sight hit him like a gut punch.
Mathilda sat in the kitchen, her face pale, eyes wide with terror. Beside her, clutching desperately at her arm, was the little girl Ian had played games with.
Both of them trembled, frozen like prey cornered by wolves.
Ian's stomach dropped. Rage boiled up hot in his chest, his heart hammering so violently he thought it might burst.
Before he could act, Mathilda's eyes flicked wide - a silent warning. Ian's instincts flared.
Something moved behind him.
In a single blur, he ducked and swerved. A heavy whoosh cut the air where his head had just been.
He spun around, fists raised, only to be greeted by a psychotic laugh that sent chills down his spine.
Daigo.
The man stood in the shadows, eyes glowing with mania, lips twisted into a smile that was all teeth and madness. His hands gripped an iron baseball bat, its dented surface catching the dim kitchen light.
"Well, well, well…" Daigo's voice was a jagged sing-song, laced with cruelty. "Look who finally decided to show up."
Ian's blood ran cold. Of all people… Daigo? Here?
"What the hell are you doing here?" Ian's voice was low, steady, though his confusion twisted like a knife inside. "What the hell do you want?"
Daigo tilted his head, laughing - a harsh, broken sound. He didn't answer. He only advanced, tapping the bat against the floor with a rhythmic clink… clink… clink, the sound echoing in the silence.
Before Ian could move, a fist smashed into his back.
"Guh-!" He staggered forward, right into Daigo's waiting strike. The iron bat slammed into his chest with a dull thud, knocking the wind clean out of him. Ian crumpled onto the floor, coughing, his chest screaming in pain.
Daigo leaned down, smiling ear to ear. "Not so tough now, huh? Thought you were some kind of hero?"
Ian groaned, forcing himself up on shaky arms, his adrenaline flaring again. He grit his teeth and surged forward, fists snapping like pistons.
"Try me, bastard!"
His right hook connected, cracking across Daigo's smug face. The man's head snapped to the side, and for the first time, his laughter broke into a snarl.
Ian pivoted, preparing for the next strike-
But then he saw them.
Two towering men emerged from the shadows, one with a knife gleaming in his hand, the other leveling a handgun at him.
Ian's breath caught in his throat.
He didn't stop. Couldn't stop. He roared and charged.
But before he could close the gap, the two struck in unison. The knife slashed across his arm, burning fire through his skin.
The blunt end of the gun cracked against his temple. Ian fell hard, the room spinning, his body failing him.
"Dammit-" he wheezed, trying to push himself up, but his limbs betrayed him. Pain shot through every nerve.
His muscles, already battered from the previous fight, screamed in protest. His strength was draining fast.
And then...
A heel pressed hard into his stomach, pinning him to the ground. Ian gasped, trying to twist free, but the weight crushed down mercilessly.
He forced his eyes open.
It wasn't Daigo.
It was her.
"Kira…"
Her name tore out of him in disbelief.
She looked down at him with icy amusement, one elegant leg digging into his torso like a predator savoring the kill. Her lips curled into a mocking smile.
"Well, well, Ian Everhart," Kira purred. "You finally showed your face."
Ian's heart pounded harder. Confusion warred with fury, with dread. "Kira? What… what the hell is this?"
She leaned closer, her eyes glittering like knives. "This?" She chuckled darkly. "This is your reckoning. Time to pay up."
Daigo loomed behind her, bat resting on his shoulder, his twisted grin returning as he added, "And time to die."
Ian's jaw clenched, every muscle in his body screaming in pain, every instinct telling him to fight even as the weight of Kira's heel held him down.
Mathilda sobbed in the corner, clutching the little girl, both too terrified to speak. The kitchen air grew heavier, darker, as if the very walls bore witness to Ian's torment.
For Ian, reality sharpened into one brutal truth - he was trapped.
Inside the orphanage - 10:20 PM
The air in the orphanage felt suffocating. Dust clung to every surface, shadows swelled in the corners, and the flicker of a dying bulb above them painted everything in a sickly yellow.
Ian's arms trembled, his blood dripping from the knife wound still fresh on his forearm. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, ribs screaming from the blows he had already taken.
Kira's mocking voice sliced through the silence like a serrated blade.
"Shouldn't have stolen my sister from me, Ian," she spat, her heel pressing harder into his stomach.
Ian winced, not from the pressure but from the words.
"Wh-what are you talking about?" he stammered, confusion thick in his tone. "I don't even-"
But his words were cut off when a shadow stepped into the dim glow. Strong legs, polished shoes, purposeful steps. The figure stopped just short of Ian's face.
"Get him up," the man said. His voice was low, commanding, dripping with restrained rage.
Ian tilted his battered face upward, bloodied eyes struggling to focus. He saw him. A man with sharp cheekbones, neatly combed dark hair slicked back, his suit too fine for this rotten place. His presence was suffocating. His stare carried both fire and ice.
"Finally, you're here, bastard." The man's lips curled in a mixture of excitement and hatred.
Ian swallowed hard, his stomach twisting with dread. "Who… who are you?"
The man didn't answer immediately. Instead, he crouched slightly, his face only inches from Ian's. His eyes - feral, bloodshot - burned into him.
"I've waited for this moment," the man hissed. And suddenly, without warning, he struck. A vicious slap across Ian's face, so sharp it echoed in the hollow orphanage halls.
Ian groaned, his head snapping sideways, spit and blood scattering across the floor.
"Stop!" Mathilda's scream tore through the room, her trembling figure clutching the child. "Please! Leave him alone!"
Lionel's eyes flicked briefly toward her, then back to Ian. He ignored her plea entirely.
"Get him up," Lionel commanded again.
The two hulking men obeyed instantly, seizing Ian by his arms. Their grips were merciless, like steel vices digging into his flesh.
They hauled him to his knees, then up onto unsteady feet. His legs barely supported him, every joint screaming.
Lionel stepped back, cracked his knuckles, inhaled deeply - then drove his fist straight into Ian's face.
"This," Lionel snarled, his fist splitting Ian's lip, "is for messing with Ruth."
Ian's head reeled. The name hung in his mind like a phantom. Ruth?
Another blow landed, harder, the force rattling Ian's teeth. His knees buckled, but the killers held him upright.
"This," Lionel spat, striking again, "is for my son, Leo."
The name sliced through Ian's fogged brain. Leo? His mind scrambled, trying to piece together the fragments. Ruth. Leo. Family. A picture forming that he could barely comprehend.
He forced out broken words through split lips, "I… I don't… I don't understand."
Lionel's fury only deepened. His fist cracked against Ian's jaw.
"Don't play dumb with me, you worthless piece of shit!"
Kira's smirk widened as she leaned lazily against the wall, arms folded. "He really doesn't get it, Lionel. Poor little Ian. Always stumbling into things he doesn't belong in."
Daigo cackled from the corner, swinging his iron bat idly like a pendulum. "You hear that, Lionel? He thinks he doesn't know. Hahaha! Pathetic." His laughter was unhinged, bouncing in the walls like a chorus of demons.
Mathilda cried out again, crawling closer, her shaking hands reaching for Ian. "Please, stop! You've got it all wrong!"
But Daigo intercepted her, slamming the bat on the ground in front of her face. His grin was grotesque, eyes glittering with malice.
"Don't think about it," he said, voice dripping with hunger. "Your time will come soon." His tone was sickeningly playful, his threat clear as day.
Mathilda froze, tears spilling down her cheeks, clutching the child tighter.
Lionel, breathing heavily, pulled Ian's bloodied face close to his. His spit hit Ian's cheek as he roared, "You think you can fuck with the Kawasaki family? You think you can steal Ruth away? You think you can shame and destroy my son's marriage?!"
Ian, dazed and barely hanging on, tried to speak. His voice was hoarse, weak.
"Listen… me and Ruth… we-"
But Lionel's knuckles smashed into him before he could finish. Another blow. Then another. Each punch was a hammer breaking him apart. His vision blurred, the edges going black. His ears rang with every insult Lionel spat.
"You're nothing!"
"A homewrecker!"
"A nobody!"
"Too poor, too weak, too pathetic to even stand in front of me!"
"You think you can climb out of the gutter and into her bed?!"
The insults rained down harder than the fists. Each word another nail in Ian's coffin of despair.
Daigo's laughter never stopped, rising with every strike.
Kira's satisfied smirk grew with each groan Ian let out.
The killers held him upright like a broken puppet, his body swaying limply with every blow.
Lionel grabbed Ian's hair, forcing him to look up into his face. His voice lowered, but the venom only intensified.
"You're going to pay for every single moment you've breathed near Ruth."
Then he punched Ian again.
"For every second you've polluted her with your worthless existence."
Punched...
"And when I'm done, I'll find everyone you care about...."
Punched...
"I'll burn them."
Punched...
"I'll break them."
Punched...
"Massacre them one by one."
Punched...
"And I'll make sure their screams echo longer than yours."
Punched...
Lionel was consumed by his anger and fury.
Ian's lips quivered. Blood poured down his chin. He wanted to speak, to shout, to deny, to fight back.
But his body was failing. His ribs screamed, his arm throbbed from the knife wound, his face was swollen and torn. His heart pounded but his strength drained with every beat.
Lionel's fist came again, one final time, colliding with Ian's face in a brutal crack.
The world tilted. His vision split in two, then four, then nothing.
As he drifted into unconsciousness, he caught fragmented images - the shimmer of Kira's smug smile, the glint of Daigo's teeth as his psychotic laughter filled the room, and Lionel's face twisted in rage as his fist descended once more.
Not again, Ian thought faintly. Deja vu… like last night.
And then darkness consumed him.
Four hours later....
The world returned to Ian in fragments - pain first, then sound, then the dull throb of breath rasping through swollen lips. His head lolled to one side, heavy as stone, the weight of unconsciousness clinging stubbornly to him.
Then came the sharp sting, once, twice, again. Slaps. The crack of palm against cheek pulled him back, forced him awake against his will.
"Wake up, you pathetic bastard," a woman's voice sneered.
Ian blinked through the haze, vision swimming, face wet with spit and blood. His blurred eyes cleared enough to make out Kira crouched in front of him, her lips curled in a smile that wasn't a smile at all - it was a barbed wire grin, stitched together with venom. She slapped him again, harder this time, with manic delight.
Finally, when his groan told her consciousness had returned, she leaned closer, whispering hot breath into his ear.
"Before you die, Ian…" Her voice slithered, dripping with malice. "You're going to endure my fury first. You're going to feel what real pain is."
Kira then made a disgusted noise.
"You look pathetic. Poor and alone, a shitty way to live your worthless life. Don't know why my sister took a like of you..."
"....even though I'm here enough for her."
Her words hung like poison fog, coiling into him. Ian didn't respond. His vision still swam, his body broken, wrists bound tightly behind the chair he was tied to. His chest rose and fell, ragged, but he offered her no words.
Kira straightened, her boots clicking across the creaking wooden floor as she rose to her full height.
She turned away from Ian and walked toward the others gathered in the dim, suffocating room.
A hushed conversation hummed between Lionel, Daigo, and the two male killers. Their words fell in fragments to Ian's ears. Cargo. Transport. Smuggling. Tokyo. Airport.
"How do we get him back without the authorities sniffing us out?" one of the men muttered.
"Crate him," Lionel said coldly. "Wrap him like freight. Nobody checks everything. By the time anyone notices, it'll be too late."
Daigo chuckled, the sound like broken glass rattling in a tin can. "Like a dog in a cage. I like it."
Ian's attention drifted - then froze.
Across the room, in a corner dimly lit by a flickering bulb, Mathilda sat. Her hair was wild and tangled, her blouse torn at the shoulder, dirt smeared across her face. She clutched the child to her chest like a drowning woman clinging to driftwood. Her eyes were rivers of silent tears, streaming down an otherwise expressionless face.
Something inside Ian broke.
Then rage replaced the break. White-hot, merciless rage.
He followed her line of sight - and saw Daigo smirking at her, satisfied, his tongue running across his teeth like he was savoring something. The implication was a knife twisted into Ian's gut.
Rage became an inferno, his heart pounding with wrath not for himself, but for Mathilda - for whatever horrors she had endured while he was unconscious.
His bound hands strained behind his back, muscles flexing, veins threatening to burst. He pulled, twisted, desperate to snap rope, to tear through flesh if he had to. Anything. Anything to kill Daigo.
And then...
A tap.
Light. Gentle. On his shoulder.
Ian flinched, turning his swollen face just enough to see three figures standing behind him. The three female killers.
Their eyes were cold, their faces pale in the dim light. Unlike Lionel's snarling rage or Daigo's unhinged amusement, these women said nothing. They only stared at him - suspicious, studying, as though he were something alien.
They didn't mock, didn't strike. They just… observed.
One of them pulled a phone from her jacket. The screen's glow lit her sharp cheekbones. A message. She stared at it too long, her lips pressed tight.
Then, with a sigh so faint Ian almost thought he imagined it, she slipped the phone back into her jacket. Regret lingered in her eyes for a heartbeat before her mask of cold indifference returned.
Ian's mind raced. Why did they just stand there? Why no blows, no jeers? Their silence was heavier than Daigo's psychotic laughter. Did they belong here? Or were they playing another game altogether?
"Hey, bastard!"
Daigo's bark tore his attention back.
The brute stalked toward him, iron bat dangling at his side. His grin widened when he saw Ian's face - bloated, broken, but his eyes still burning with fury.
"You look like shit," Daigo mocked, laughter bubbling from his throat. "What's wrong? Don't like seeing your woman like that? Huh?"
Ian didn't answer. He couldn't. He only stared - stared at Daigo with the pure, undiluted intent to kill.
The silence cut deeper than words.
Daigo's grin twitched, faltering. He stepped closer, looming.
"You keep staring at me like that," Daigo hissed, "and I'll bash your skull in until your own mother won't recognize you."
Still, Ian didn't speak. Didn't blink. His eyes stayed locked, cold and murderous.
It was enough.
Daigo's grin snapped back into place, fury and insanity mingled. He raised the iron bat high.
"Fine! Let's fix those eyes!"
The swing came fast, a blur in the air-
CLANG!
The room rang with steel.
Daigo's bat froze mid-arc, stopped by the gleaming blade of a katana. One of the female killers had stepped forward, intercepting the blow in a shower of sparks.
"The fuck?!" Daigo snarled, his arms straining against the katana's lock.
The woman's voice was calm, almost bored. "You have no right to touch him. Not without the boss's order."
Her words froze the air.
"Fuck the boss," Daigo spat, shoving back against the blade. "I'll kill this asshole myself."
The killer's eyes narrowed. Her katana pressed harder against the bat, forcing Daigo to step back. Then her voice dropped, low and sharp enough to cut steel.
"Try it, and I'll carve your family into pieces. Slowly. Mercilessly."
Daigo's face twisted, rage fighting against the sudden flicker of fear. His teeth gnashed. He pushed back again, iron bat trembling under the katana's pressure.
Before he could retort -
RING.
The sound of a phone cut through the tension. Another of the female killers stepped forward, pulling a buzzing phone from her jacket. She looked at the screen, then at Ian.
"Who the fuck is calling you?" Daigo barked, suspicious, pointing his bat. "Huh? Who the fuck is it?!"
The woman didn't answer. She simply walked past him, ignoring his shouting, and stopped at Ian's side. With deliberate care, she held the phone to his ear.
Ian's pulse thundered. His ears rang. Then-
A voice.
Familiar. Beloved. Impossible.
"Darling," the voice whispered. "I'm here to save you."
Ruth.
Ian froze. His battered face slackened, every nerve in his body sparking. His heart stopped, then roared back to life.
Ruth.
What the fuck?
His mind spun. Was it a trick? A hallucination born from concussion and blood loss? But the voice was real, clear, warm, cutting through the darkness like a lighthouse.
Daigo's face twisted in confusion. "What the fuck is this?! Who the fuck is calling him?!"
Lionel and Kira turned too, both frowning, both suddenly uncertain.
Ian's chest heaved. His throat burned with words he couldn't form. Ruth.
And then...
Outside.
Headlights cut through the dusty windows. A car pulled up, sleek and black, engine rumbling low.
Everyone saw it.
Lionel. Kira. The two male killers. Even Daigo's grin faltered.
The air shifted. Suspicion. Fear. A storm ready to break.
Ian stared, barely breathing, Ruth's voice echoing in his ear.
"Darling, I'm here to save you."