Simone, whose eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Erik surrounded by the Crystal Cross gang, knew he had to intervene.

"Fuck," Simone said. He managed to reach Erik but found him pinned down by Crystal Cross Gang members. When he did his research on the Red Palace students Matthew wanted dead, his name was at the top of the list as the reason why the prestigious institution had expelled his son, and he had to be killed at all costs.

The problem was that, as he searched his past, he found out he had no parents, and the Crystal Cross Gang, the criminal organization to which the Mambas were affiliated, or better, which they served, wanted Erik alive for unknown reasons. If these men captured him, they would bring him to their headquarters, and they wouldn't know what happened to him.

That would prevent him from getting Erik's secret out of him. He couldn't allow that. His heart raced with determination, and the instinct to kill arose, realizing that Erik's secret was at stake.

With a cold and commanding presence, Simone stepped forward, weapon in hand, and his gaze fixed on the thugs who had successfully captured Erik. His voice rang out with authority as he addressed them.

"Listen up, you fools," Simone growled, his tone dripping with menace. "If you don't want to die, I suggest you get away from that kid."

The scarred thug looked at Simone, and his face contorted into a sneer. He confronted Simone with a malicious grin. "What's your deal, pal? This doesn't concern you," he spat, his voice filled with arrogance. "Do you want to die, Baldie?"

Simone's gaze hardened; his voice was steady and unwavering. "Oh, it concerns me; he is my target," he replied, his words laced with an undercurrent of suppressed fury. "You won't lay a hand on him while I'm here."

The black-haired thug's eyes narrowed, and his tone was laced with outrage. "Who do you think you are? We're the Crystal Cross gang. You're just asking for trouble."

Erik watched the man confront the thugs. Simone stood tall, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over the alley.

His broad shoulders and chiseled physique commanded attention, exuding an air of power and dominance.

Every movement he made was deliberate, displaying a calm strength that sent shivers down the spines of those who crossed his path. He was a skilled assassin, after all—not as much as the ones who attacked him outside the city, but still skilled nonetheless.

His bald head gleamed under the neon alley lights, devoid of any hair that might have softened his formidable appearance. The smoothness of his scalp accentuated the sharp angles of his face, highlighting a strong jawline and intense, piercing eyes that seemed to hold a dangerous glint.

Simone gripped a dagger in his hand, the metal reflecting a cold, steely sheen. The weapon served as an extension of his lethal prowess and a reminder of the danger he posed.

Matthew's man's lips curled into a defiant smirk. "Maybe I am," he shot back, his voice firm. "So, do you want to die so badly? I will bring you to the gate of hell myself if this is what you want."

The bald thug observed Simone, his tattooed scalp glistening with sweat, as he understood the man in front of him was dangerous.

However, his greed prevented him from backing down. He stepped forward with an air of aggression. "You're making a big mistake, buddy," he growled, his voice dripping with menace. "We outnumber you."

Simone's fists clenched, and his expression hardened. "Quantity means nothing if you lack skill," he retorted, his voice filled with quiet confidence. "And I assure you, I have an eye for this, and you seem rather weak to me."

Without further warning, Simone launched himself at the nearest thug, his movements swift and precise. The alley erupted into chaos as the two sides clashed; of course, Simone used his power and immediately made a sword out of his dagger. It emanated a chilling frost that decreased the surrounding temperature by several degrees.

The bald thug generated a massive hammer, while the scarred-faced thug materialized a sword; it was clear he couldn't use that much, while the black-haired one pinned Erik down and prevented him from running away.

With a fierce battle cry, the bald thug swung his hammer downward, aiming to crush Simone under its weight. But the assassin's reflexes were lightning-fast. He sidestepped the attack, his icy sword slashing through the air as he deflected the blow precisely, causing the ground to shake from the force.

The scarred-faced thug seized the opportunity, unleashing a barrage of swings toward Simone. They whirled through the air with deadly accuracy, but Simone effortlessly weaved and twisted, his movements almost dance-like.

"Even the kid is stronger than you!" Simone remarked.

Each attack narrowly missed its mark as he gracefully evaded, his ice sword blocking each and every attack with ease.

Undeterred, the bald thug lunged forward, his hammer aimed at Simone's midsection. But Matthew's man's agility was higher than theirs, as was his experience.

He somersaulted backward, narrowly evading the bone-crushing blow as the hammer collided with the ground, causing a shockwave that sent debris flying through the air.

Taking advantage of his momentum, the scarred-faced thug lunged from the side, aiming for Simone's side. Below the ribcage was where he intended to hit, hoping to knock the man off balance at least.

But Matthew's hound's instincts were razor-sharp. He twisted his body, the blade going harmlessly past him, and countered with a swift strike from his ice sword.

The clash of steel against skin reverberated through the alley as Simone's blade grazed the thug's arm, leaving a trail of frost in its wake.

The scarred-faced thug recoiled, a mix of surprise and pain etched across his face. Simone's precise movements left little room for error, and his opponents were left questioning their own abilities.

The bald thug, fueled by rage and desperation, lunged at Simone once more, swinging his hammer in a wide arc. But the assassin anticipated the attack, smoothly stepping aside and delivering a powerful kick to the thug's exposed side. The force of the blow sent the man sprawling to the ground, his hammer clattering beside him.

The scarred-faced thug, seeing his comrade incapacitated, hesitated for a moment. Fear flickered in his eyes, but determination pushed him forward.

He attacked Simone, hoping to stop the man from killing his friend. However, Matthew's right-hand man's focus was unyielding. He planted his feet firmly on the ground, using his ice sword to deflect the sword force and maintain his position.

Simone fought with a ferocity born from desperation, as he wanted to prevent the Crystal Cross gang or anyone else from getting their hands on Erik's abilities.

With each attack, Simone effortlessly evaded and countered, his movements fluid and precise. The thugs once filled with confidence, now found themselves outmatched by his skill and mastery.

The man's effortless dominance over the two thugs only served to amplify the aura of invincibility that surrounded him, leaving them with no choice but to reassess their strategy and approach.

As attacks landed and blows were exchanged, the balance of power in the alley shifted. Simone's fighting skills, honed from years of training, allowed him to hold his own against the thugs.

He weaved through their attacks, countering with swift strikes of his own, while Erik watched with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

The Crystal Cross gang members, taken aback by Simone's unexpected resistance, fought back with greater ferocity. The narrow confines of the alley amplified the sounds of grunts and thuds as the battle unfolded.

As the dust settled and the defeated thugs slowly backed away, Simone stood tall, his ice sword gleaming in the dim light. His cold, unwavering gaze was fixed on them, a silent warning of the futility of their resistance.

Erik, a witness to the awe-inspiring display of Simone's prowess, could only wonder what fate awaited him as the relentless pursuer closed in.

In a split-second decision, the black-haired thug recognized his comrades' dire situation against Simone's overwhelming might.

With a determined expression etched upon his face, he swiftly disengaged from Erik, leaving him momentarily forgotten, and joined forces with the scarred-faced thug.

Together, they hoped to turn the tide of the battle. The black-haired thug's loyalty to his companions overpowered any doubts he may have had. He aimed to support his fellow thugs and increase their chances against the man in front of them.

Of course, that was all Erik needed to escape. Seizing the opportunity presented by the distraction of the black-haired thug joining the fight against Simone, Erik, with adrenaline coursing through his veins, sprang into action, his mind focused on one goal: escape.

The awakener stood up and started running away from the four men. He swiftly maneuvered through the chaos of the alley, his movements guided by a combination of instinct and sheer desperation.

He weaved between crates and obstacles, utilizing his agility to his advantage. The sound of clashing weapons and grunts of exertion filled the air behind him as the fight raged on, drawing the attention of the thugs and Simone.

"HE ESCAPED!" one of the thugs shouted.

"KEEP FIGHTING, YOU IDIOT!"

As Erik darted down a narrow passage between two buildings, his heart pounded in his chest, echoing the rhythm of his hurried footsteps. His breath came in short, rapid gasps as he pushed himself to the limit, propelled by the fear of capture or death.

He turned a corner, the distant sound of the ongoing scuffle gradually fading into the background. Erik's muscles ached, his body yearning for respite, but he knew there was no time to rest.

Every shadow seemed to hold the potential threat of discovery, and every rustle of garbage or flicker of light seemed to be a potential trap.

Erik's escape route took him deeper into the heart of the northern district, where the streets were alive with the city's vibrant energy.

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