“Jovian, listen to me. West Lucozia’s trouble runs deep. You won’t be able to handle it. You need to get out of there,” Boston urged.
When Jovian remained silent, Boston couldn’t hide his growing concern. After all, they were comrades, and he didn’t want to see his friend die on the street.
“You’re right. I’m not afraid if they come at me head-on. What worries me is if they come at me from behind.”
After hesitating for a moment, Jovian nodded. “Alright, Boston. Take me back to the hotel. I’ll pack my things.”
“Now that’s more like it.” Boston sighed in relief. “As they say, there’s always a chance as long as you’re alive. The most important thing is to stay safe.”
“Thanks, man. I’ll buy you a drink next time.” Jovian smiled.
Without Boston’s constant advice, Jovian might have taken a chance. But if things went south, he’d regret it too late.
Back at the hotel, Jovian wasted no time. He packed quickly, then hopped into Boston’s car to head to the airport. With the burden lifted, they joked and laughed along the way.
As they neared a junction, a large truck ran a red light and sped straight toward them.
The driver reacted too late and steered the wheel just in time to tip the jeep over. It rolled several times before crashing through a guardrail and landing in a roadside ditch.
The driver passed out on the spot while Jovian and Boston were thrown around. They were severely shaken. Fortunately, their strength kept them from serious injury.
Boston kicked open the mangled door and climbed out.
“Goddamn it…” He was about to curse when he saw three figures jumping off the truck.
The figures were all dressed in black, with their faces hidden behind masks. Long shadows stretched under the dim streetlights, giving off a menacing, almost otherworldly vibe.
Jovian climbed out of the car, and his gaze locked onto the three figures. He frowned, and an uneasy feeling settled deep in his chest.
“It looks like we’ve been set up,” he said grimly.
It was clear to him now. This wasn’t just some random accident but a planned attack.
“Yeah. Something tells me that they’re not here to chat.” Jovian shrugged off his jacket to reveal his toned build.
He’d thought he was being careful, but it wasn’t enough to avoid this trap. It seemed that Boston had been right all along. The real danger from Warrick was far from over.
“Jovian, we’re close to the airport. I’ll hold them off for a while. You should go first.” Boston unsheathed a short knife. His eyes were sharp as he watched the men in black.
“What nonsense are you saying? I may not be the best, but I won’t leave you behind.” Jovian cracked his neck and said with a determined look. “We’re not helpless. We can handle ourselves in a fight.”
“Good! It’s been a while since we’ve last fought together. Let’s take this chance to show them what we’re made of.” Boston got into a fighting stance without saying much.
If they didn’t fight together in a life-or-death situation, they’d both end up dead. Boston didn’t believe for a second that the assassins sent by Warrick would let them off easily.
The three men in black pulled out their knives as they got within about 30 feet of the two.
“To hell with it! We’re going all in,” Boston shouted, and the two charged forward.
After all, when two brave souls clashed, one would come out on top. In such fights, momentum would often determine the outcome. It was a relentless, fearless drive forward.
In a brief but intense sprint, the five men collided.
Boston was a powerhouse. His military knife slashed through the air with precision, and his attacks were fast and deadly.
In contrast, Jovian was a master of hand-to -hand combat and grappling. His agility and speed let him strike first, quickly overpowering his opponents with decisive moves.
But the assassins were no amateurs. Each one was close to being a master in their own right. In terms of raw strength, they held the edge.
Yet, Jovian and Boston’s seamless teamwork and unyielding fighting spirit kept them in the fight, and they refused to give an inch.
After a brief skirmish, both sides were bleeding. Boston had been slashed three times, with blood pouring from the wounds, while Jovian had a deep gash across his chest and abdomen.
But neither of them cared about the pain. The adrenaline was pumping, and their determination only grew with every strike.
The three assassins were on the back foot.
They hadn’t expected their opponents-who they’d pegged as weaker-to be so vicious. This was nothing like the intel they’d received.
“Kill them! You bastards, I’m going to rip you apart!” Boston roared, and his face twisted into a savage grin.
With an aura of death surrounding him, Boston looked like a demon from hell who struck fear into anyone who saw him.
Jovian remained cool-headed. His focus was unwavering as he and Boston exchanged heavy blows with their attackers.
Seeing that they were losing ground, the assassins fought with everything they had. And then the battle exploded into a brutal, life-or-death struggle.
