Wolf was extrely confident that there would be no employees causing any trouble today. That part of the situation had already been handled thoroughly. The ssage had been sent, the example had been made, and word traveled fast in places like this. Because of that, his attention had shifted completely to sothing else. He was trying to guess the Gilt Rats’ next move.
If he were running a large syndicate gang, and he had discovered that the hired muscle he sent in yesterday had completely failed, what would he do next?
He wouldn’t stop. That much was obvious.
Which was exactly why Wolf had headed outside.
The mont he stepped out, his eyes locked onto the group of mobsters moving forward. There were quite a few of them this ti, and it didn’t take long for him to notice the glint of tal in their hands.
Knives.
’Whoa... they’re going the lethal route, and in broad daylight,’ Wolf thought. ’They must’ve paid off the police to ignore any calls that co from this area. They’re annoyed. Really annoyed.’
Wolf reached out and tapped Joe on the shoulder.
"I’m happy to see you here," Joe said imdiately. "I really didn’t want to experience getting stabbed multiple tis."
Joe tried to joke, but there was truth behind it. The thought from yesterday still lingered in his mind. Soone trying to see how far his healing factor could be pushed. How much punishnt he could really take before sothing went wrong. He didn’t want to find out the hard way.
"These guys look a bit more serious than the last lot," Joe added. "So let’s do this."
The n charged.
The mont the knives ca out, the onlookers panicked. Shoppers scread and rushed away, running in every direction to get clear of the scene. People ducked into stores, knocked over displays, and fled down side paths. No matter how this ended, it wasn’t going to be good PR for the departnt store. It would take ti for their reputation to recover from sothing like this.
As the attackers swung their knives forward, both Wolf and Joe avoided the strikes. The blades skimd past their faces, close enough that either of them could feel the air move. The gangsters weren’t amateurs. Their movents were sharp, controlled, and deliberate.
These weren’t hired goons.
They were trained.
A knife flashed toward Wolf’s throat. He twisted his body just enough to avoid it, then spun and slamd his back fist into the attacker’s face. The man dropped instantly, blood spraying from his mouth as he hit the ground.
Joe stepped forward at the sa ti, moving more fearlessly than he realized. He snapped two quick jabs into another attacker’s face, the punches clean and precise. When a knife ca swinging toward him, he ducked under it, drove a heavy hit into the man’s gut, and then took a quick step back before the blade could co around again.
Wolf and Joe moved together, almost naturally, striking their opponents while avoiding the knife attacks. Their footwork stayed tight, controlled. Wolf grabbed one attacker’s arm, twisted sharply, and snapped it with a sickening crack, forcing the knife to drop from his hand.
"I can tell these guys are way more skilled than the ones yesterday," Joe thought as he avoided another slash. "But why does this feel... easier?"
Wolf glanced over and saw Joe dominating his side of the fight. Three of the attackers were already on the ground, rolling and screaming in pain, completely taken out of the fight.
As Wolf continued watching, sothing clicked in his head.
"Ah... now I know why this feels easy," Wolf thought. An image appeared in his mind, a man with glasses, calm eyes, and terrifying precision. "Their knife skills don’t even co close to him."
And then there was Joe.
"And as for why Joe is doing so well," Wolf realized, "he took the brunt of Aron’s knife play. Everything these guys are doing now, he’s already faced worse. That fear just isn’t there anymore."
Eventually, even the skilled knife users of the Gilt Rats were taken down. Bodies lay scattered across the ground, so clutching broken limbs, others unconscious, blood staining the pavent.
At the sa ti, at the back of the warehouse, Max was also having little trouble.
Maybe the Gilt Rats thought sending skilled mbers from their own gang would solve the problem. Maybe they thought numbers and experience would be enough. But they truly had no idea who they were up against.
To get through this defense, they would have needed the top of the top.
And they hadn’t sent them.
Max moved through the attackers efficiently, his actions clean and decisive. Each strike ended a fight. There was no wasted movent, no unnecessary brutality. Just enough to put them down and keep them from getting back up.
"Haha, got it!" one of the warehouse workers shouted. "Now everyone will believe us! We’re uploading it right now so everyone can see!"
Phones were already raised, recording everything.
The video went online quickly, spreading faster than anyone expected. Clips were shared, reposted, and comnted on. Within hours, it had gained serious traction.
Karen was worried at first. Knife attacks weren’t sothing you wanted associated with your business. It scared people away, and for a short ti, foot traffic dropped.
But sothing unexpected happened.
People beca curious.
They wanted to see the masked wrestler. They wanted to see the place where it happened. By the next day, there were already custors planning visits, just to see if the rumors were true.
This news reached Ramon as well.
He watched the videos carefully, eyes narrowing as he studied the footage.
"Well," Skull said casually as he tinkered with equipnt in the lab, "who would’ve thought that woman would find soone so competent at protecting her store, huh? Want to go deal with them?"
"No," Ramon replied calmly. "I did so digging. I wanted to know who would be willing to take the job and be skilled enough to pull this off."
He paused.
"Turns out our friends, the Billion Bloodline group, are involved again. They’re just giving us more reasons to take them down, honestly."
Ramon turned away from the screen.
"But I need to finish this job first. And besides... there’s more than one way to take over that store."
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