The old forest road had grown infamous over the years. By day a few brave souls sometimes dared its length, but when night fell, not even a stray cat ventured onto its cracked pavement. There was a palpable dread that had taken root in the hearts of locals whispers said that the road either led to hell or was haunted by malevolent spirits. No one ever really knew the truth, and no one had ever been brave enough to find out.
At precisely 11 p.m. one chilly autumn night, a sleek black sedan roared along this road. Behind its wheel sat an imposing young man wearing a striking mask embossed with a wolf's print a clear symbol of his affiliation with the notorious Red Night gang. This mask was not an ordinary one, but a signature: just as every mob had its emblem, the wolf represented a select, ruthless faction.
Without warning, the sedan slowed to a stop. The young man's face twisted with anger as he pounded his fist on the steering wheel. "Not again!" he muttered, frustration written plainly on his features. He reached for the ignition, attempting to restart the car but it refused to come to life.
Before he could rouse an explanation or exit to inspect the malfunction, a second vehicle hurtled toward him at full speed. The world exploded into chaos as the front of the speeding car collided violently with the stranded sedan. The impact was brutal; on the second hit, the red taillight burst into a cacophony of sparks and shattered glass, scattering shards across the injured man's arms and face. Shielded by thick glasses, his eyes managed to escape major harm, but the rest of his body was left battered and bruised. In a strained, pained voice he croaked out, "Is he… psycho?"
The collision had left both vehicles in a state of ruin the stranger's car now severely damaged with its front mirror splintered into pieces. Relieved briefly by the pause that followed, the injured young man dared to hope that his misfortune was behind him. Yet, almost immediately, the other car reversed and sped back directly toward him. His instincts screamed for escape, and he tightly shut his eyes. It was as if fate the grim hand of death had returned for him.
The rival vehicle roared in once more but abruptly halted a short distance away. Through his half-shut eyes, the injured youth peered at the driver's face emerging from inside. What he saw made his blood run cold: the man wore a mask adorned with an eagle insignia, the unmistakable emblem of Blue Moon. With a faint, sideways smirk, the masked Blue Moon operative made a few crude gestures before backing his car away and disappearing into the night.
Fuming, the wounded young man barked into his phone, "Bastard!" After a couple of rings, the other end picked up. "Hey, Benny! I'm stuck!" he spat into the receiver. A terse exchange followed:
"WHAT? Again?"
"Yeah I'm not moving. I'll be there soon. Hurry!"
Before he could finish his sentence, he abruptly ended the call.
Twenty minutes later, a dark sedan pulled up beside the ruined car. Out stepped a determined young man MJ, known on these streets for his uncompromising loyalty who swiftly retrieved a concealed handgun from his pocket. He disembarked with calculated care, scanning his surroundings to ensure the coast was clear. Satisfied that the immediate danger had passed, he hurried over to the battered vehicle.
"Hey, MJ get out now!" cried a voice. Instantly, his friend Benny rushed up. MJ's body was clearly injured, evidence of the multiple impacts from earlier. Benny helped him into the back seat of the sedan, and without wasting a second, MJ slid into the driver's seat. The car engine roared to life, and they sped away from the grim location.
Not long after their departure, the Blue Moon vehicle reappeared. Its driver—now clearly agitated stepped out beside the wreck and surveyed the damage with a cold, calculating gaze. After retrieving a small packet from his car and examining its contents, his expression darkened. Without a word, he reentered his vehicle and sped off into the night.
MJ and Benny continued their journey until they reached an isolated mansion on the outskirts of a hillside community a grand estate ringed by tight security, where not even a stray bird dared cross the grounds. After ensuring their arrival, Benny helped MJ out of the car.
Inside the mansion's austere foyer, their guarded walk was interrupted by the sound of footsteps descending a sweeping staircase. A man emerged, clearly preparing to leave. He wore a mask bearing a variant of the wolf insignia and clutched a loaded pistol as if it were an extension of his arm. MJ's worry deepened at the sight of his injured friend.
"MJ," he exclaimed, voice thick with concern, "what happened? Who did this to you? I swear if I don't get answers right now, I'll make sure that man regrets the day he was born!" His eyes burned red with fury a nearly beastly passion.
MJ tried to calm him. "Relax, Edward. I was asleep at the wheel a minor accident. Nothing more."
Edward's eyes narrowed, disbelief and anger mingling on his face. "A minor accident? MJ, you nearly got yourself killed!"
At that moment, voices rose from behind them. A gruff man stepped forward through the ornately carved double doors. "Stop!" he bellowed. "Edward, enough! Remember he is our guest tonight."
Edward's anger faltered for a moment as the man, Marcus who carried himself with the authority of a trusted elder and business partner continued, "This isn't just about blame; it's about our commitment to our cause. I won't have anyone disrespect my own family. You need to apologize."
"Not a chance," Edward shot back, his voice rising. "He doesn't deserve this treatment!"
"Edward," Marcus interjected firmly, "this guest of ours has already been through more than enough. We have important business tonight with Dragon representing our interests. Your personal grudges have no place now."
Dragon, a man whose steely gaze had come to signify everything in their criminal circles, stepped forward. "Edward," he said in a controlled yet biting tone, "you've always been impulsive but you must remember that I'm doing what's necessary. Our enemy, Blue Moon, is inching ever closer to our territory. Focus on stopping them instead of warring amongst ourselves!"
"Look, MJ," Marcus continued, softening his tone as he guided MJ towards a private dressing room to tend to his wounds. "I know you're angry, but listen if you continue acting this way, one day you might end up hanging from a tree branch in the forest like those damned local legends. We can't afford distractions, not now when our very survival is at stake."
MJ placed a reassuring hand on Edward's shoulder. "Are you alright, man?" he asked quietly, his tone showing a gentler side beneath the hardened exterior.
"Yeah," Edward replied, voice subdued. "I just need to rest. I'll grab us some food then we'll regroup."
After a pause, MJ murmured, "One day, I promise you Edward, I'll get us all out of this nightmare for good. You deserve better than this endless conflict."
The charged atmosphere hung heavily in the room as each man contemplated the cost of loyalty, vengeance, and the ceaseless pursuit of power in a world where trust was as scarce as redemption. Outside, under a moonless sky, the battle between Blue Moon and Red Night was far from over and on nights like this, the price of failure was paid in blood.
As MJ was left to tend his injuries, and the heated words of Edward, Dragon, and Marcus echoing through the mansion's marble halls, an uneasy calm descended upon the gathering. The clashes of the night had not just scarred bodies but had fanned the flames of long-simmering grudges. In this vicious underworld, every mistake led to more betrayals, and every accident could be the spark that set a war ablaze.
For MJ, with every threat and every heartbreak, the path ahead grew darker and the promise of a new day, fueled by love, loyalty, and a thirst for justice, became ever more precious.
Thus, the night's collision was not merely a physical event but a turning point in a tangled web of alliances and enmities a reminder that in this brutal game, mercy was as rare as morning light on the forsaken road.