Unfortunate

Mad Dogs' Headquarters

The boss of the Mad Dogs Gang sat in his chair, glaring at the four beaten men standing before him. His expression was filled with displeasure as he spoke.

"So, let me get this straight," he said, his voice cold. "You four worthless idiots are telling me that some random guy—who's been hanging around that little bitch Bell for days—took you all down, and I only find out about it now? And instead of handling it, you ran back here to whine to me?"

The four thugs stood stiffly, their eyes flickering between their enraged boss and the snarling dogs at his feet. They were embarrassed, not just because they had lost, but because they had been beaten by a single man.

The leader of the group hesitantly stepped forward. "Boss, that guy... he's not normal. He's trained. That's why we lost."

The boss scoffed. "So, that's your excuse? You got your asses handed to you by one guy, and now you're calling him special to save face?"

He leaned forward. "What's his age? What does he look like? Do you know anything useful?"

The small leader thought for a moment before replying, "He's well-built but not too muscular, around sixteen years old. His appearance is average. We're still investigating his background."

The boss leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin.

"Stop any further action against him for now. Gather more information first. Once we know his background, we'll decide what to do."

The Mad Dogs Gang hadn't survived this long just by being ruthless. They knew better than to make enemies without understanding the consequences. If this boy had powerful connections, taking action against him could bring serious trouble.

The small leader nodded, understanding the wisdom in waiting. If this Ryan kid turns out to be someone with backing, we'll be careful. But if he's a nobody… he won't live to see the next sunset.

Both the boss and his subordinate silently came to the same conclusion.

---

Ryan's Preparation

Meanwhile, Ryan remained unaware of the Mad Dogs' deliberations, but he had already expected retaliation. And if they did come after him, he was determined to strike first.

This wasn't just about self-defense. Mrs. Prim had done him a favor, and it was time to repay that debt—by eliminating the Mad Dogs once and for all.

The next day passed as usual, but Ryan was focused on two things: finalizing his plan to assassinate Captain Hook, and gathering information on the hook gang' movements to avoid any surprises—especially firearms.

When evening arrived, Ryan approached Mrs. Prim and asked for the night off, using the excuse of handling private matters.

Captain Hook, according to his routine, left his base around 9 PM to go home, accompanied by only four loyal men. Ryan had studied his route carefully. There was a particular alley—dark, quiet, and usually deserted except for a few thieves and low-level thugs hoping to ambush drunks and travelers.

At 8 PM, Ryan stepped out of the restaurant wearing formal attire: a full-sleeve coat and a hat, maintaining the illusion that he was simply heading out for the night. Underneath the coat, however, he was armed.

A dagger was strapped under his arm guard.

Another dagger rested near his waist.

A crossbow, pre-loaded with a poison-tipped arrow, hung on his back.

Four additional poisoned arrows were hidden in his coat, ready to provide covering fire if needed.

He had already taken an antidote to protect himself from accidental exposure to his own poison, provided by the pub along with the toxin.

He circled the outer city, swapped his formal clothes for all-black attire, and concealed his face before entering the Hook Gang's territory. He couldn't afford to be recognized.

---

A Suspicious Change

As Ryan approached the alley, he felt an unsettling chill.

It was too quiet.

The usual thieves who loitered near the entrance were nowhere to be seen. Even the stray cats and dogs that often scavenged the area had vanished.

His instincts screamed at him—something was wrong.

He considered abandoning the mission for the night, but before making a decision, he decided to conduct a quick survey.

At the far end of the alley, he spotted a lone figure. The man was standing in the shadows, head down, face down. That gave Ryan a bit of relief—at least someone is here.

Maybe the city guards did a patrol earlier, Ryan reasoned. That would explain the missing thieves and strays. Lately, the guards had been on high alert, searching for a fugitive knight who had escaped custody.

Just to be safe, Ryan changed his approach.

For thirty minutes, he waited, using the time wisely to set up traps.

He found a small, dark alcove where he could hide unnoticed. Then, near the center of the alley, he rigged a tripwire. Once triggered, sharp iron spikes and nails would scatter across the ground, injuring any horses and causing panic—a distraction that would lower the guards' defenses.

Everything was set.

---

The Ambush

At last, he heard it—the sound of hooves and the rumble of a carriage approaching.

Ryan tensed, positioning himself.

As planned, the moment the horses crossed the tripwire, sharp iron and nails shot out, wounding their legs. The animals reared up, screaming in pain.

The thugs immediately realized something was wrong.

Two of them jumped down to check on the horses.

The moment they saw the cause of the injury and the driver with a dagger embedded in throat,they shouted, "ASSASSIN!"

But it was already too late.

Before they could raise the alarm, Ryan struck.

Ryan moved fast, leaping onto the carriage just as it came to a halt. He already knew where Captain Hook would be sitting—and without hesitation, he fired.

The poisoned arrow struck Hook in the chest. Blood spurted out as the toxin spread through his veins.

Ryan exhaled in relief. That should do it.

Then he turned around a run to escape without engaging in further combat as target has been stuck. As he run few steps , he heard a whistling sound

THWACK!

Pain seared through his arm. He had been grazed by an arrow.

His eyes widened in shock—three of the remaining thugs were still alive and armed with crossbows.

They were prepared for an attack?!

He turned sharply, his mind racing. He needed cover. Fast.

His eyes landed on the thief standing at the end of the alley. If he could knock him out, he could use him as a shield—

But before Ryan could move, the thief did.

With terrifying speed, the man swung a heavy fist, striking Ryan square in the chest.

The impact was brutal.

Ryan staggered, his breath leaving him in a painful gasp. His vision blurred for

a second, and in that instant, he caught a glimpse of the man's face.

His stomach dropped.

He's a knight.

And Ryan knew—

It's over.