Kapitel 19: Knives Are Dangerous

I woke up on a Saturday morning, ready and feeling rested. I threw on a t-shirt and shorts without thinking and ran down the stairs.

I wasn't surprised anymore that Susan was already there, making coffee and cooking up some scrambled eggs with bacon for breakfast.

"Good morning, Susan," I said.

"Good morning," she replied with a nod. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," I answered, pleased that she paid attention to my well-being.

"Blink! Brrrr! Brrr!"

Right then, my phone vibrated in my shorts. I quickly grabbed it and checked what's up.

I got a message from Rick.

"Where are you at, Graham? Jack is already here, grinding his ass off! Also, we have some guests; Miss Maxwell is here and someone wants to coach you. You better get moving!"

'My mother?' I thought.

Speeding up my fork, I devoured the last of my breakfast and chugged down the rest of my coffee.

Without delay, I dashed upstairs, snatched my training gear, and stuffed it into my bag. Back downstairs, I swung open the door. The limousine was already waiting for me outside.

Something came to mind. I looked behind me; Susan was already cleaning up after breakfast.

"Bye, Susan!" I called.

"Have a great day, Graham," she replied, her smile friendly.

I vanished into the waiting limousine.

On the way, I drank some water to hydrate myself before the training while thinking about why Mom hadn't visited earlier, right after I left the hospital. Was she too busy?

A couple minutes later I was already at the spot, with some greetings from the personnel I rode the elevator up to the training facility.

I walked into the room, where a few members of the mafia were busy with their exercises. Immediately, someone caught my eye—or rather, someone scared the living daylights out of me.

He stood nearly two meters tall, with a massive build that could intimidate anyone. His hair was cropped short and fiery red.

But what truly chilled me to the bone were the scars—deep, jagged marks crisscrossing his face, especially one over his eye. It was closed shut, the scar running through it so severe that I doubted the eye remained.

He was clad in a loose-fitting black suit of sorts.

I heard someone coming fast from the side, and for a second, I thought I might have to fight. But then I saw it was my mom, running over in her high heels.

She wore a long skirt and a white top. In my past life, she always had short hair, but her hair is long now, all blonde and flowing around her mature face.

I didn't have the closest relationship with my mom, but I did respect her. So when she put her arms around my shoulders, I hugged her back.

She looked at me and said, "I couldn't visit you after you left the hospital because your dad didn't let me."

'Dad didn't let her?' I was surprised.

She seemed a bit stressed out. That weirded me out even more.

Right... I haven't met my father in this life yet. However, based on this interaction, I was certain that he had changed from the person I once knew. He used to be the more passive one in the family.

"I wanted to watch you train, Gray. I heard you've been doing fantastic," she added.

"Okay, Mom. By the way, where is Dad at the moment?"

She looked hesitant to say anything but finally opened up, "He's in diplomatic talks."

"Oh, sure. But why do you seem so stressed when you talk about him?" I pressed.

She looked at me sheepishly and let out a deep breath. "It's just... a bit complicated."

"Hey, Graham! Quit loafing around and get your ass in here!" Jack, who was sparring with some short guy in the ring, yelled at me.

I quickly changed into my training clothes and climbed into the ring. As I entered, my eyes scanned the room, searching for the strange man I had noticed earlier.

He was standing next to Rick and talking, but his eyes shifted to the ring every once in a while.

Putting on my gloves, I assumed my fighting stance. Without wasting any time, Jack closed the distance between us and launched a sweeping kick aimed at my calves. Reacting swiftly, I hopped backward, avoiding his attack and maintaining my balance.

I followed up with a roundhouse kick aimed at Jack's torso, but he deftly evaded by leaning back.

"Stop!" he commanded, and I froze, waiting for his instruction.

"You're doing it wrong," Jack pointed out.

He went on to explain that while I was twisting my body correctly with the kick and keeping my waist back as I should, my leg remained static; it was hindering the momentum of the kick.

I should twist it together with the body.

We resumed the fight, and I focused intently, tilting backward instinctively as Jack's right hand brushed past my nose, hitting the air.

His right leg came at me with massive momentum, and I quickly raised my knee to absorb the force.

He threw a punch from his left. I saw it coming and threw a counterpunch. My fist was fast, and it caught his guard, but Jack skillfully absorbed it and dodged with a sidestep.

Seizing the opportunity, I repeated the roundhouse kick, this time with the advice Jack had given me fresh in my mind.

The flow of the kick felt different this time. My entire body twisted, including the other leg, in perfect synchrony, allowing the force to transfer seamlessly from my pivot leg through my torso and up to the pinnacle of the striking foot.

"BOOM!"

My strike found its mark, hitting Jack's guard fair and square. I felt the impact flow through my leg, but I could also tell that Jack's guard was beginning to crumble under the sheer force of the strike.

When my leg made contact with his left biceps, I heard him groan, his torso swung uncontrolled, and his legs gave out, causing him to stumble.

He took a couple of steps to regain his balance before resuming his fighting stance.

"Clap! Clap! Clap!" The sound of cheers rang through the training room, causing Jack to pause mid-fight and glance to the side.

Curious, I followed his gaze and saw the scarred man with red hair, a strange smile on his face.

"That was an amazing roundhouse kick!" he exclaimed, his voice carrying across the room.

Then, his expression turned stern as he addressed Jack, whose face went ashen.

"Get down here, Jacky!" The command rang out, and without hesitation, Jack dashed towards the edge of the ring. With a quick front flip above the ropes, he landed smoothly next to the scarred man.

Nearby, Rick gestured for me to join them.

I could see that the man was reprimanding Jack for something.

I got out of the ring and came up to them.

Immediately, the man's gaze turned towards me and the way he looked at me made me feel cold all the way up to my head.

"I've heard that Young Master was learning quickly, but when I saw that kick, I immediately fell in love with you," he said with an unsettling grin.

I wish no one saw the look on my face when I heard that.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" I blurted out.

Rick swiftly interjected, positioning himself between us.

"Graham, this is Leader Damien," Rick introduced, gesturing toward the scarred man. "He's one of the greatest assets of the Maxwell Mafia. Leader Damien teaches at the Academy of the Mafia, among other roles. Jack, for example, was under his tutelage."

I nodded. Jack's reaction indicated that he was someone not to be trifled with.

Leader Damien's expression darkened, "Alright. Enough fucking around." with a chilling tone, he commanded.

In a swift motion, he produced a knife from who knows where. The hunting knife shone a milky yellow in the light.

Fear coursed through my veins, making me feel cold all over. I suddenly felt alone and naked. I felt like there was a huge beast in front of me that I had no chance of fighting against.

"Fear makes you weak." The beast snarled and in the middle of the last word, it pounced at me.

I saw the motion; I knew how to avoid, but I was stuck; I was scared; I was... moving!!

Damien struck empty air in the place where I stood before.

My reaction was quick, but the attack was fast as well, and the tip of the knife came at me again, the beast's eyes glaring at me.

It was too fast! My body twisted to the right instinctively, trying to avoid the blade, but he shifted the knife in a blurred motion and thrust where my arm was.

I felt cold.

My face dropped, I gasped once, and turned my face toward my hand.

Just below my elbow, the blood trickling down and staining the ground beneath me; was my own.