The Wild Hunt

Sid's face twisted in frustration, his fists tightening as Kalem effortlessly weaved around his blows. Every swing met nothing but air, and every time Kalem slipped just out of reach, Sid's rage boiled hotter. 

"Enough of this shit! *Get him!*" Sid barked. 

The gathered gang members hesitated for a moment, uncertain. Kalem had always been slippery, but now? Now he was something else. But orders were orders. 

A chorus of footsteps thundered against the damp alley pavement as half a dozen goons rushed Kalem at once. The first lunged from behind, reaching for his collar to pin him down. Kalem felt the shift in air and sidestepped fluidly, allowing the thug's momentum to send him stumbling forward. 

Another came from his right, swinging a crowbar. Kalem barely had to think—his body reacted on its own. He twisted, letting the heavy metal weapon pass an inch from his face before grabbing the thug's wrist and yanking him forward, sending him crashing into his friend. 

Two down. 

A shadow loomed in his vision—Sid, charging in like a rampaging bull, fists raised high. 

*He's reckless but fast.* 

Kalem planted his foot, ducking under the wild haymaker, feeling the wind whip past his hair. Before Sid could recover, Kalem shot his leg out in a sweeping kick, clipping Sid's ankle and sending him stumbling back. 

He didn't get a chance to capitalize. 

Three more thugs were already closing in. 

*Alright,* he thought, *let's see what else I can do.* 

One came at him from the front, throwing a punch. Kalem dipped left, feeling the attack miss by inches. Then, in a blur of motion, he planted both hands on the thug's shoulders and **vaulted over him** in a single powerful motion. 

*Holy shit.* 

The moment his feet hit the ground, another thug was on him. Kalem didn't hesitate—he twisted mid-air and lashed out with his heel, **kicking the goon square in the face.** The man reeled back, blood spraying from his nose as he crumpled to the pavement. 

More fists came his way. He ducked, stepped back, and countered when he could. His body was moving sharper, faster, more efficiently. It was **instinctual.** The more he dodged, the clearer everything became. 

This wasn't like before—where survival meant barely slipping away, heart pounding in terror. 

No. 

Now? 

Now, Kalem felt **at ease.** 

Like he was meant to do this. 

Sid snarled, regaining his footing. "What the hell is this!?" he roared, wiping spit from his lip. "You think you're hot shit now!? You're still just some rat playing god!" 

Kalem grinned, sidestepping another attack. "I dunno, Sid. You're the one swinging at air." 

Sid's face went red with rage. 

Kalem flicked his gaze across the alley. There were too many of them to fight head-on. He needed an opening—an escape. 

His eyes darted upward. A metal fire escape, just above a stack of old crates. 

Perfect. 

Ducking another wild swing, Kalem **sprinted** toward the crates, his movements light, controlled. The moment his foot hit the top of the stack, he launched himself up, grabbing the bottom rung of the fire escape ladder. 

The goons shouted behind him, scrambling to chase. 

Kalem swung himself up in one smooth motion, landing on the first platform. He turned, looking down at the gang below, Sid cursing and raging beneath him. 

He grinned. 

"Well, gentlemen," Kalem called, voice dripping with amusement, "it's been fun, but I'd say that's enough cardio for the night." 

And with that, he took off up the fire escape, vanishing into the night before the Dregs could recover.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Sid's furious scream echoed through the alleyway. "*You coward!*" he bellowed, his voice raw with frustration as he glared up at the fire escape where Kalem had vanished. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles went white. His breath came out in ragged bursts, his chest rising and falling with fury. 

Just then, the alley door to the **NGN Casino** creaked open, and a waiter stepped out, stretching as he pulled out a cigarette. The man barely had time to light it before his eyes widened at the sight before him—a gang of rough-looking men, some bloodied, some furious, and a body or two groaning on the ground. 

"Oh, shi—" 

Before the waiter could turn and bolt, Sid moved like a rabid dog, his anger finding a new target. 

He grabbed the man by the collar and **slammed him against the brick wall** with enough force to rattle his teeth. The cigarette dropped from the waiter's lips, falling uselessly to the ground. 

"What did you see?" Sid growled, his face inches from the terrified waiter. 

"I—I—nothing, man! I swear, I didn't see nothin'!" the waiter stammered, hands raised in surrender. 

Sid wasn't convinced. His lip curled in disgust as he **threw a vicious punch** into the waiter's gut, making him double over with a wheeze. "Nothing, huh?" Another punch. The waiter **crumpled to his knees**, coughing and gasping for air. 

"Sid," a calm voice interrupted. 

Thorne. 

The tall, sharp-eyed enforcer stepped forward from the group, his gaze cold and calculating. His presence alone made the others instinctively step back. He rested a hand on Sid's shoulder. 

"That's enough. He doesn't know anything," Thorne said smoothly. "We have more important matters to deal with." 

Sid wiped his mouth, exhaling sharply through his nose. He turned, his rage still simmering but no longer boiling over. The waiter scrambled away, not daring to look back as he disappeared into the casino. 

Thorne adjusted his coat, stepping past the still-groaning goons on the ground. "Should we spread the word?" he asked. "Let everyone know we're looking for him?" 

Sid exhaled, tilting his head back to stare at the sky. The **crescent moon** peeked out from behind a veil of shifting clouds, casting a faint silver glow over the alley. 

His lips curled into a slow, sinister grin. 

"Tell everyone," he said darkly. "Bring him back **alive**." 

He cracked his knuckles. 

"I want to finish him myself."