Nightfall settled over the city like a storm waiting to break. Floodlights lit the Hugh mansion's courtyard as Aiden stormed out, Bon and Flux behind him.
"We don't have time to wait," Aiden said, pulling out his earpiece. "Alert all teams. Lock down every dock from Southpoint to River Bay. If they so much as step near the water, I want eyes on them."
Bon glanced sideways.
"And what if they're already on board?"
Aiden didn't hesitate.
"Then we burn the ship."
Flux chuckled under his breath.
"Always the dramatic one."
"Always the one who gets results," Aiden shot back.
As they reached the SUVs waiting at the gate, Bon's comm crackled to life.
"Unit 3 to Base. We've got movement near Dock 9. Could be them."
Aiden's eyes lit up.
"Move in. No mistakes."
They sped into the night, tires screeching, engines roaring like beasts off their leash.
---
Meanwhile, at the edge of Dock 9, shadows moved swiftly. Ethan pulled his hood lower.
"You sure this is the right ship?"flux whispered, glancing over his shoulder.
Ethan voice buzzed in their stolen comms:
"That's a yes. Ship leaves in 20. No more delays."
Jason glanced at his watch, the ticking syncing with the tension in the air. "It's time. Go meet the boss-I'll keep watch."
Ethan gave a sharp nod. He and Flux made their way through the dimly lit dockyard, approaching the figure loading crates onto a ship. The man looked up, recognized Ethan, and narrowed his eyes at Flux.
"Sé sala lòt gason-an?"
Ethan responded calmly, "Yeah, he's the one I told you about."
The man gave a gruff nod and motioned them forward-but just then, blinding headlights exploded across the port.
Tires screeched. Doors flew open.
SUVs flooded in.
Jason, still in the shadows, tensed.
Aiden stepped out first, scanning the area like a predator in the dark.
The smuggler's eyes widened. "Merde! Ou mennen polis-la épi'w?"
"I don't know them!" Ethan barked, panic rising.
"Soti! Soti vit!!"the man shouted, and chaos erupted. Smugglers scrambled, pushing crates, climbing aboard.
From the other side, Aiden snapped to his men:
"Move in! Find them all-if it looks suspicious, tear it down!"
Jinx walked in with Bon beside him, a twisted grin on his face.
"It's hunting time."
Ethan sprinted up the ramp to the ship, but when he turned-Flux wasn't behind him.
"Dammit!" he cursed. "Where did that idiot go?!"
Jason, now atop a stack of containers, spotted him. Flux was surrounded-three guards closing in.
"That fool," Jason muttered, then launched into action.
He dropped behind one of the guards, striking him out cold, grabbing his pistol in one fluid move. The others turned-too late. Jason fired twice, clean shots to the legs, and dropped them both.
Flux was shaking, wide-eyed.
Jason grabbed his arm. "Move! Now-!"
A loud blast echoed-the ship's horn. Final boarding.
Jason yelled, "GO!"
Flux ran-but not fast enough Jinx was already on his trail, appearing from the shadows.
"Heyyy... I remember you," Jinx called. "Green mushroom head, right? From the restaurant." He paused, connecting the dots. "Wait... don't tell me-you're one of them?"
Flux didn't wait for confirmation. He bolted.
Jinx grinned. "What's the rush?" He gave chase.
Flux stumbled back toward Jason, breath ragged.
"Flux, what the hell are you still doing here? The ship's about to leave!"
"He happened!" he gasped.
Jason's eyes locked on Jinx approaching, calm but deadly.
"Well, well," Jinx said as he slowed to a stop. "Didn't expect to see your face again so soon, old friend. You still punch like a truck?"
Jason didn't answer. Instead, he whispered to Flux, "Go. Now."
Flux took off again, but Jinx's hand moved like lightning-he threw a blade straight at him.
Jason stepped in, blocking it with his forearm. Blood sprayed.
"GO!" he roared, eyes blazing.
Flux stumbled, then sprinted up the ramp as the ship's engines roared louder.
Jinx clicked his tongue, walking forward slowly.
"You shouldn't have done that," he said, eyes locked on his old rival. "Now I'm gonna enjoy this."
Jason cracked his knuckles.
"Try me."
Jinx lunged at Jason without warning, his blade slicing through the air toward Jason's face. Jason jerked back just in time, barely avoiding the strike, then drove his fist hard into Jinx's ribs. The blow connected, but Jinx didn't even flinch-he came back swinging with wild precision, his knife flashing again toward Jason's throat.
Jason shoved him back, catching his breath, then smirked. "You trying that hard to leave a scar? Like some kid crying over stolen candy. It's pathetic."
Jinx tilted his head, a grin twisting on his face. "You're right... that was embarrassing. Guess I'm done playing nice."
He drew a second knife, the twin blades glinting under the dim port lights as he shifted into a deadly stance.
"I'm going to rip you apart."
Jason braced himself. In a heartbeat, both men launched at each other-steel met skin. Jinx's blades danced, landing shallow cuts across Jason's arms and side. He laughed, wild and feral.
"Is this all you've got? I thought the great vortex was tougher than this."
Jason stayed on defense, gritting through each slash, studying his rhythm. Then, as Jinx raised his arm again for a final strike-Jason caught his wrist mid-air, locked eyes with him, and muttered coldly:
"First you go low. Then you test their guard. Then, when they drop it-you break them."
Jason's knee shot up into Jinx's gut. Jinx stumbled back "You crazy bastard you took all that hit just so you could study my moves", eyes wide as Jason followed through with a punishing uppercut to the jaw-sending him crashing into the container wall, unconscious.
Jason stood still, breathing hard. He turned, ready to leave-
Then... wet.
He looked down.
Blood.
His shirt clung to his side, soaked in red. He turned slowly-
Bon stood a few feet away, arm raised, pistol still smoking.
He hadn't even heard the shot. Just the warmth.
Jason dropped to one knee, coughing up blood as Bon stepped forward, eyes cold.
She glanced at Jinx's body, then back at Jason.
"Tsk. Still breathing, huh?"
She lowered the gun just slightly.
"I never got to thank you... for helping me get this new arm."
Her robotic fingers flexed slightly around the trigger.
"It was my pleasure," Bon sneered, standing over the bleeding Jason. "If you want, I can take the other arm too-make you fully robotic."
Without warning, she yanked him up by the collar and slammed him into a nearby crate with brutal force. Wood splintered. Jason gasped in pain.
"You really don't know when to quit, do you?" she growled, cracking her knuckles. "I'm going to enjoy tearing you apart, piece by piece-"
Suddenly, the distant roar of engines broke through the chaos. Bon froze, eyes narrowing as a gang of motorcycles stormed the dock, tires screeching and dust flying. At the head: Zayan, helmetless, wind whipping through his hair, flanked by his crew of ruthless riders.
Bon's eyes widened. "You...?"
Zayan grinned, casually stepping off his bike. "Looks like we're just in time to ruin your little party."
One of the ruffians rushed to help Jason up as Zayan turned, threw him a nod. Jason gave a faint smirk. "Perfect timing."
Flashback:
Before the operation, Ethan warned, "If they find us at the docks, we won't have the manpower to hold them off."
Flux agreed, worried.
But Jason shook his head. "No... we won't be alone."
He picked up a burner phone, dialed fast. On the other end, a voice picked up.
"Zayan. I need a favor."
Back to present:
Bon scoffed, looking around at the gang. "You've really sunk low, Calling in street trash to save your life?"
Zayan cracked his neck. "Yeah? Well, this street trash is about to put you in one."
He gave a sharp whistle. "Ruffians! Wreck her!"
The gang surged forward with a war cry. Bon snarled, calling in backup as her bodyguards moved to defend her. Steel met fists. Chaos erupted across the docks.
Jason, clutching his ribs, limped toward a bike tossed to him by a ruffian. Zayan looked over his shoulder and gave a sharp nod. Jason returned it, revved the engine, slammed the helmet on, and peeled off into the night.
Bon spotted the motion, eyes blazing. "He's getting away!" She shoved through two fighters, tried to give chase-
-but three ruffians blocked her path. One threw a punch, another swung a chain.
"Get out of my way, you useless rats!" she screamed in fury. "Move!"
No one listened.
"GUARDS! After him!" she yelled-but they were locked in combat, too busy staying alive.
She roared with frustration, eyes locked on Jason's shrinking silhouette, vanishing into the darkness.
The ship was already pulling away, its engines humming into the night. The chaos had settled, but the tension still hung in the air like smoke.
Bon stood frozen, her chest rising with sharp breaths. She spun on a nearby bodyguard, grabbed his collar and slammed him against a crate.
"One! Just one damn man—and none of you brain-dead fools could stop him?! He was right there!"
Her voice cracked with fury, then she shoved him away like trash.
Her eyes locked on a ruffian groaning on the floor. She stormed over, grabbed his shirt. "You—where the hell did he go?!"
The ruffian stammered, trembling:
"Ou sé on makak fou... ou kité mwen bat ou tousa pou sa ou té sa aprann mouvman mwen?"
Bon's fist clenched, teeth grinding.
"What the hell are you even saying?!"
Then came Aiden's voice, calm like ice.
"Drop him. He doesn't know anything."
Bon paused, eyes burning into the ruffian before she let him fall.
Aiden surveyed the scene, hands in his pockets.
"They're gone. And Liam's not with them. My guess—they split up. This whole brawl was a distraction. Either they're sneaking him out another way... or setting something else in motion."
He glanced at the ship disappearing into the dark.
"Whatever it is, this op was a total bust. We're back to square one."
Bon stepped into his space, eyes sharp as blades.
"You can start over. Me? I'm not stopping till I drag them all back by the throat. And if that woman won't talk…" she cracked her knuckles, "I'll make sure she screams."
Aiden narrowed his eyes.
"Don't get reckless. We still need—"
"What?! More excuses? They slipped right through our hands. She's the only lead we've got!"
She pointed behind her.
"One of them was injured. No way he's shipping out like that. He's hiding, licking his wounds."
Aiden nodded slowly.
"Then we've still got a shot. And there's a decent chance Liam's still in town. Smuggling a kid out these days? Not that easy."
Bon's voice dropped low.
"Then we better find him… before they disappear for good."
Bon paused, eyes narrowing.
"You're wrong about one thing…" she said, voice low.
Aiden turned to her.
"Yeah?"
Bon continued, tone razor-sharp.
"This wasn't a distraction. Not even close. Unless someone leaked info, and I doubt it—this was a split op. They couldn't all board, so they sent two ahead to call for backup."
Aiden clicked his tongue, annoyed.
"Perfect. Then we better hit the streets fast. And we're not telling the boss. Not a word. He'll tear us apart for letting them slip."
Bon gave a single nod.
"Agreed."
---
Meanwhile…
Jason's bike screeched to a halt outside the safehouse. His vision blurred, hand pressed tight against the bullet wound at his side. Every breath burned.
He staggered to the door, pushed it open with his shoulder. Liam rushed forward, eyes wide.
"Jason!"
He wrapped his arms around him.
Jason winced but didn't stop him. Blood dripped from his fingers.
"I'm fine, kid... I'll be back soon, alright?"he said, barely above a whisper.
Liam looked up, confused. "You look pale… are you sick?"
Jason gave him a weak smile and walked past.
"What's wrong with big bro?" Liam asked quietly.
Daphne appeared from the hallway.
"Jason?! You're back—"
She saw his blood-stained side, her face dropped.
"You're hurt!"
He didn't stop. He brushed past her in silence.
Brandon stepped in, arms crossed.
"He was shot."
Daphne's eyes widened.
"Then let's help him—"
Brandon grabbed her arm.
"No. Don't. You'll just get in the way. S-Rank operatives are trained to handle stuff like this."
She watched Jason disappear down the hall, heart pounding.
"Alright…"
In the bathroom, Jason gritted his teeth as he peeled off his shredded shirt. Each movement sent a jolt of pain down his spine. His torso was a mess—knife slashes across his chest, and the bullet wound still bleeding through.
He stared at himself in the mirror, gripping the sink. His breathing was slow, controlled. Then, he turned on the tap. Cold water hit the basin, steam rising in the dim light. Silence.
He shut it off.
From his bag, he pulled out a lighter… and a combat knife.
He lit the blade, the flame flickering violently.
Wrapping a rag around his mouth to muffle the scream, he stabbed the knife into his side—straight into the wound. The metal hissed as it met blood. He groaned, knees nearly buckling, sweat dripping from his jaw.
He dug deeper.
Clink.
The bullet hit the sink.
Jason exhaled sharply, then cleaned the blade, wrapped a tight bandage across his ribs, then over his arm.
He glanced down at the torn-up shirt—cut to ribbons by Jinx's blades. No hesitation. He threw it in the trash.
One last look in the mirror.
Cold eyes.
Focused.
He turned, and walked back into the shadows of the hideout.
Daphne was pacing outside, heart racing, anxiety written all over her face. The moment she heard the bathroom door click open, she turned sharply.
Jason stepped out, his shirt gone, fresh bandages wrapped around his torso. His expression was unreadable—stone-cold as always.
Daphne rushed to him.
"Jason! You didn't say a word when you came back and—"
Her eyes fell to the bloodstained bandage around his side.
"What happened? Were you… are you seriously hurt?"
Jason didn't stop walking.
"Daphne."His voice was low, steady—but firm. He finally looked at her, and in his eyes there was no warmth.
"Stop. This isn't new to me. Don't waste your concern."
Daphne froze, stunned.
"I don't need sympathy. I don't need you checking up on me like we're something we're not. We're teammates. That's it. Don't forget that."
He brushed past her without another glance, footsteps echoing down the hallway.
Daphne stood in silence, fists clenched at her sides, eyes stinging.
But she said nothing.
She watched him disappear into the shadows again.
"He didn't even wrap the bandages properly…" Daphne whispered, her voice trembling. A single tear slipped down her cheek.
"I just wanted to help."
Meanwhile, Jason collapsed onto the bed, muscles screaming from exhaustion. His eyes shut the moment his head hit the pillow—he hadn't slept since the start of the mission. Within seconds, he was out.
Later, while Liam and Brandon played quietly in the living room, Daphne slipped into Jason's room, carrying a tray of medical supplies. She moved slowly, not to wake him.
She sat beside him, staring. His face, normally so guarded, looked peaceful in sleep. His guard was down for once
"How can someone look this pretty even when they're asleep…" she whispered.
She exhaled quietly, then began working. Gently, she cleaned the wounds, unwrapped the poorly tied bandages, applied ointment, then wrapped new ones with care. Jason didn't stir once—too deep in sleep, too drained.
When she was done, she lingered for a second, looking at him one last time… then silently left.
The next morning, Jason sat up slowly. He looked down. The bandages on his side were clean, tight, precise.
He didn't need to ask. He already knew.
He stood, threw on a shirt, and left the room. In the corridor, he spotted Daphne talking with Malia.
He walked up to her, gaze sharp.
"Was it you?"
Daphne blinked, confused. Malia chuckled.
"Ooh, is this a lovers' spat?"
Jason ignored her completely.
"I told you to stay out of it," he said coldly, eyes fixed on Daphne.
"I didn't ask for your help. You're not doing me a favor."
Daphne's lips parted. She looked like she might cry.
"I saw you in pain… I was just trying to—"
"Don't." Jason cut her off.
"If helping me is your way of proving you're useful, don't bother. I'm not your charity case. You're a D-rank—focus on that. Stay out of my business, I don't need a D-rank following me around like a lost cause trying to prove that they're worth something it doesn't help me, it only gets in the way."
He turned, already walking away, when her voice rang out behind him—louder, shaky.
"I won't next time!"
He stopped mid-step.
"Even if I see you bleeding out, dying right in front of me… I won't move. I won't do a thing."
Jason looked back at her, eyes cold and unreadable he said nothing,
Then he was gone.
Daphne stood there, frozen. The sting of his words pierced deeper than any wound. Malia shifted uncomfortably beside her but said nothing.
Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, nails digging into her palms.
"Then why… do I still care?" she whispered to herself, voice barely audible.
Behind her eyes, fire and pain clashed. She wasn't crying—not yet—but her chest was heavy. She turned away, walking in the opposite direction, refusing to let anyone see her break.
Jason stepped outside into the cold morning air. The streets were quiet, the sky still dim with the last traces of night. He exhaled slowly, rubbing the bandage beneath his shirt.
He knew he'd gone too far—but it didn't matter and he didn't care.
Caring gets people killed. Compassion slows the blade.
He told himself that again and again.
He walked into the alley behind the building, where Brandon leaned against the wall waiting for him.
"You were rough on her."Brandon said calmly.
Jason didn't reply.
"She was only trying to help."
Still nothing.
Brandon turned to face him fully. "You talk like you're made of steel, but you're bleeding just like the rest of us. You can push everyone away all you want, but at some point…"
He stepped closer.
"You're gonna fall. And no one's gonna be there to catch you."
Jason looked up at him, eyes sharp but empty.
"Then I'll make sure I never fall."
He walked past Brandon without looking back.