🚗Late-Night Drive – Zayn's Ancestor Story (Full Scene with Humor & Soul)
After a while in the car, Encinto had knocked out cold at the back seat, snoring like a content baby panda.
Zayn looked over at Alex with a sly grin.
Zayn: "So, kid... you wanna hear a story? One about your ancestors?"
Alex: "Pf... course I do. But does Encinto hear us? I don't want that guy dreaming about dragons and overhearing my family tree."
Zayn: "Please. That man's in a coma back there. Ain't nothing gonna wake him up unless you shout 'free tacos' in his ear."
Alex chuckled: "Alright then, story time. Where did we pause before?"
Zayn: "Hmm… Right, we left off after Lurk married Arga and lived out the rest of his life."
He took a deep breath, eyes looking ahead, as if pulling memories from an ancient library in his brain.
Zayn:
"After Lurk married Arga, they had a son. Just one. No siblings. A quiet house with swords on the wall and training mats instead of toys. That boy's name... was Aterus.
Now, Aterus was born in Greece. But he didn't live like other Greek kids. While the rest were running around naked painting statues, he was doing pushups on gravel and eating raw eggs at sunrise. His dad, Lurk, trained him hard—every damn day. No breaks. Rain or shine. Crying? That earned you another lap.
And when Aterus turned 20, Lurk gave him a mission:
'Leave Greece. Find your own destiny.'
So the kid packed a cloak, a sword, and left. He took ships. Traveled island to island. Until... he landed in Rome."
Alex: "Woah, so he reached Rome just like that?"
Zayn: "Yeah. But bad timing. Rome had just conquered Greece. And not in a 'hello neighbor' way—they kicked the door down and made themselves at home. And during that conquest… Lurk and Arga died. Old age couldn't protect them from war. Aterus heard the news while standing in the marketplace. He didn't cry. Wanna know why?"
Alex: "Why?"
Zayn:
"Because his dad once told him:
'The day you hear about our death and don't cry… that's the day you become a man.'
So Aterus wiped his tears, clenched his jaw, and marched straight into the Colosseum. Just like that. Straight to the front gate."
Alex: "Wait… what?? He just walked in like a gladiator?"
Zayn:
"Yep. He shouted up to the top box where the Roman leader sat, sipping grapes or whatever they did.
'I want to fight!' he yelled.
Soldiers rushed him, swords out. But then the leader raised his hand, curious.
'You wish to die in the pit?' he asked.
Aterus nodded. No fear. No hesitation. The guy had steel in his eyes. So they threw him into the gladiator ring.
And guess what? He didn't die."
Alex: "Let me guess—he dominated the arena?"
Zayn:
"Like a lion on espresso, kid. He lasted five years. Fought beasts, men, and once even a guy dressed as Poseidon. Became a legend. They called him 'The Ghost Blade'.
But eventually, he got tired. Bloodshed wasn't enough. So he left the arena, searching for peace.
Then one rainy night, he saw a man sitting alone in an alley. Blood all over his cloak. Calm as a monk. Aterus approached him cautiously.
That man? He was an assassin. From an ancient order."
Alex: "No way…"
Zayn:
"Way. That assassin said:
'I was waiting for you, Aterus. You are chosen.'
Aterus didn't run. He accepted. He trained under him, learned the silent ways of death, and took on a new title: Hunter.
From then on, he worked in the shadows. Wiping out corrupt nobles, killers, tyrants. Not for gold—but for justice. For balance. He made enemies, made scars. But also made a name.
Then, one fateful night, he stumbled out of a bar. Drunk. Swaggering. And bumped into a woman.
She was lost. Crying. Drunk too. They talked. Then… well... nature happened. They ended up in a rented room. You know where this is going."
Alex: "Ugh… skip the details, please."
Zayn: laughing
"Relax. The next morning, they both woke up like:
'Wait, what?!'
Classic.
He tried to ignore it… until she came back a month later:
'I'm pregnant.'
BOOM. Just like that. The legendary assassin was about to become a dad.
So he did the right thing—he married her. Gave up half the killing. They settled down.
By 40, he had five sons: Lanard, Gorsey, Amilano, Rogesto, and the eldest, Asirus—the spitting image of Aterus.
He trained them all in secret arts. The 'Hunter' name became a legacy. From Greece to Rome to the next generations. All five became assassins.
When Aterus passed away, his sons moved to Japan. A new chapter began.
But I'll save that for another night."
Alex: "Wow... that was insane. That story had more action than my whole life."
Zayn: "And that's just one generation. You think I'm done? Kid, our family tree is so badass, if I told you every name and tale, we'd need 10 years—and 12 movies."
Alex: "So… you're only telling me the famous ones?"
Zayn: "Nah. I'm telling you the important ones. The ones that shaped our blood. Every single Hunter has done something unforgettable. Politics, war, art, medicine… you name it. We're not just fighters, we're fire."
Alex: "Do all of them know how to fight?"
Zayn: "Hell yes. You think muscles like ours come from cheese? We've got elite genes. Even the family's poets can throw hands."
Alex: "What about rivals? Any family always trying to one-up us?"
Zayn: "Yeah. The Arthurs."
Alex: "Wait... like King Arthur?"
Zayn: "Long story. I'll get to that someday. Different timeline, different madness."
Alex yawned, gazing out the window as LA's night skyline glittered on the horizon.
🌆Arrival in LA – AGF HQ
At sunrise, they rolled into Los Angeles. Zayn tapped the steering wheel.
Zayn: "Wake up, boys. HQ time."
Alex, rubbing his eyes: "We're here already? Dang, that was fast."
Encinto, groggy: "Man, I was just dreamin' about a Latina with green eyes and—HEY, why'd you wake me?"
Zayn: "Let's go, princess. We've got work to do."
They stepped into the massive AGF building—Assassination Global Federation. The place looked like a blend of a corporate tower and a James Bond villain base.
Everyone who passed Zayn greeted him with respect.
"General Zayn."
"Sir."
"Legend."
Alex: "Whoa. This place is real?"
Zayn: "Of course. And yes, I'm that famous."
They walked straight to the top floor. Zayn barged into a sleek meeting room where top agents sat.
Zayn: "Aippp! Captain! I got today's report!"
He slammed the file on the table.
Captain: "Thanks. You're dismissed."
Zayn nodded and walked right out like a man dropping the mic.
Alex: "What the heck was that? You just walked in and out like you owned the place."
Zayn: "Because I do."
Encinto: "This guy has no manners. First time I met him, I thought he was just an old dude with Alzheimer's and too much caffeine."
Zayn: "Shut up, cartel boy. I saved your life and dignity. You owe me steak dinner and a mariachi band."
🏨Hotel Check-In & Street Heroics
As they left the AGF HQ, Zayn stretched his back like an old lion waking up after a nap.
Zayn: "Alright, kids. Mission done—for now. Let's go check in. I booked us a hotel. A good one. With windows so big, you can see your regrets from 10 years ago."
They pulled up to the hotel's VIP parking. The car purred as Zayn eased it into a spot. But just as he turned off the engine, a security guard walked over, frowning.
Guard: "Excuse me, sir. This lot is for VIPs only. Please move the vehicle."
Zayn slowly rolled down the window and pulled out his dusty, battered VIP Black Card with a golden skull logo on it.
Zayn (calmly): "You mean… this kind of VIP?"
The guard blinked, then his eyes widened. He stood straight and saluted like he'd just seen a war hero.
Guard: "I—I'm so sorry, sir. Please… enjoy your stay."
Zayn nodded and whispered to Alex as he stepped out of the car.
Zayn: "See that? Respect. Earned through bullets and broken noses."
They walked inside the luxurious hotel, its marble floors gleaming like a dance floor for billionaires. Zayn strolled to the front counter with a cheeky grin.
Zayn: "Heeeyyy, long time no see."
Behind the counter stood a woman in her early forties, still elegant, still sharp-eyed. She looked up—and gasped.
Receptionist: "Zayn? No way. You're still alive?!"
Zayn (winking): "I made a promise, remember? Told you I'd come back. And I keep my promises… and occasionally your secrets."
Receptionist (laughing nervously): "Yeah, well… I'm married now."
Zayn: "So am I. To danger."
He gave a smug grin, then turned professional.
"Three rooms. Two kings with a city view. One single bed, tiny room, small window showing only the dark alley of regret. You know how I like it."
Receptionist (typing quickly): "Done. Here are the keycards."
Zayn: "You're the best, baby."
Receptionist: "You still flirt like you're twenty."
Zayn: "I age like wine and flirt like tequila."
He walked back, tossing the keycards like ninja stars to Alex and Encinto.
Zayn: "Here. One for you, and one for the bastard."
Encinto: "Oye, no soy tan malo…"
(Hey, I'm not that bad…)
Zayn: "No Spanish here. This is LA."
Encinto: "Okay, okay, relax, viejo loco." (crazy old man)
They rode the elevator up in silence. The view from the top floor was stunning—sunset bleeding gold across glass towers.
Each of them went into their rooms.
Alex's room was incredible. Floor-to-ceiling glass, city skyline glowing orange and pink, like the world was wrapped in dreams.
Alex (looking around): "Damn… I bet Encinto's room faces a dumpster."
He laughed, went into the shower, and let the hot water soak the travel dust from his body.
After a while, dressed in casual clothes—hoodie, jeans, and headphones around his neck—Alex decided to grab a snack.
He walked to the FamilyMart nearby, grabbed some canned coffee, noodles, and a snack for Zayn (though he'd never admit it was thoughtful). But then…
As he stepped outside the store, he saw her.
A girl. Stunning. Black curly hair, soft brown skin, eyes full of life. She was reading something on her phone as she walked.
And then—a van screeched near the curb.
Two men jumped out and grabbed her, trying to shove her inside.
Alex: "Yo!"
He dropped his bag without thinking.
Kidnapper 1: "Mind your business, punk!"
Alex: "Too late. You just made it mine."
The first guy lunged. Alex sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and flipped him onto the hood of a nearby car. The second one pulled a knife.
Alex ducked under the blade, spun, and slammed his elbow into the guy's chin. One hit. Lights out.
The girl screamed. Alex gently grabbed her arm.
Alex: "You okay?"
She nodded, trembling.
Alex: "Go! Run inside the mart. Call the police."
She ran. The first guy groaned on the ground and tried to crawl. Alex didn't even hesitate—he stomped his hand and crushed his fingers against the pavement.
Alex: "Wrong street, wrong girl, wrong day."
He grabbed his snacks, walked back to the hotel like nothing happened. Casual. Calm. A bit hungry.
When he entered his room, he flopped onto the bed.
Alex (to himself): "Man… I just wanted to buy instant noodles…"
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