Two cars running down the streets, engines snarling like beasts in a gang war.
Gunfire erupted—bullets tearing through metal and air. A sharp shot hit a tire, sending one car spinning wildly before it flipped onto its side.
The gang with the upper hand stopped and poured out of their vehicle, with guns their hands. The flipped car's occupants were injured but alive.
The fight exploded again—bullets flying in every direction.
Two from the leading gang fell. From the injured group, only one remained standing.
A man from the leading gang moved in to finish him off—when suddenly, a car appeared out of nowhere and blow him away.
Everyone froze.
A tall, fit man stepped out, clad in a suit and armor, guns gleaming.
He fired one clean shot, dropping an enemy instantly.
Hand-to-hand combat followed.
Gang members fired wildly, but he moved with deadly style—using one enemy as a human shield, sending that man's own member's bullet into his skull.
The shootout drained their ammo.
The man smirked. "No bullets? I don't fight unfair battles."
He tossed his guns aside and unleashed a brutal assault—breaking jaws, twisting necks—sending three foes into eternal sleep.
Finally, he approached the injured survivor calmly. "You're not dead, buddy. Not while I still need you."
The chapter closed with that chilling promise.