CHAPTER: COLD HEART, QUIET STORM
The gym door creaked open.
Alex stepped in, expecting an empty room.
Instead, the entire place was filled with people—
his people.
Fighters, coaches, classmates, even Jack and the rivals he'd beaten at his last tournament.
For a second, Alex felt warmth.
These were the ones who'd shaped him. Helped him. Carried him when he was nothing.
But something was off.
No one smiled.
No one clapped or called his name.
Every face was heavy with grief.
Alex blinked. "What's up? Why do you guys look like someone died?"
Mark stepped forward, voice trembling.
"Alex… I've got horrible news."
"What is it?" Alex asked, almost laughing.
Mark's eyes were wet. "Your mom. She's… gone. Sean's men… they killed her."
Alex froze.
He laughed again—weakly. "You're joking. That's not funny, man."
"I'm not joking." Mark's voice cracked. "She's gone, Alex. For real."
It hit him like a truck.
His laughter stopped.
His chest burned.
A single tear rolled down his cheek.
His mind spiraled.
Grief. Rage. Confusion.
The faces in the gym blurred.
Everyone tried to reach him—to pull him back.
But it was too late.
Something inside Alex… broke.
Later, the group stood silently at the funeral.
The sun set slowly behind the hill.
They buried her with trembling hands and shattered hearts.
Alex didn't cry.
Not anymore.
His eyes were dry. Cold.
His expression—stone.
The boy was gone.
What stood now was something else.
Back at the gym, everyone gathered around a long table.
Joe leaned forward. "Alex… what are you gonna do now? You want revenge?"
He didn't even blink.
"We're with you," Joe added. "No—we will help you."
Everyone nodded.
Alex stood still, calm as a blade.
"I have a plan."
Silence fell.
He looked at each face in the room.
When he spoke, his voice was low. Controlled. Empty.
"We're going to hunt them one by one. Break them. And make them talk."
He turned.
"Who here can track people? Or hack?"
A boy raised his hand. "Me!"
"Name?"
"Ash."
"You can hack?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Mark, you'll assist him."
"Got it."
Alex turned to the boxers. "Who's willing to fight with me?"
Every boxer raised their hand.
He looked to the girls.
"Liana, Hannah, the others—you'll spy. Gather intel. Feed us every movement."
The girls nodded.
"John, me, and the fighters… we'll execute the hits."
Suddenly, the gym doors burst open again.
A flood of students entered—friends from Alex's class, even students from other grades.
They all stood behind him.
They didn't need to speak.
They were with him.
THE NEXT DAY
They walked together—Alex and his team—into the city bank.
At the counter, the staff opened his account.
Everyone leaned in, stunned.
$5 billion.
Abdullah stepped back. "How did you… get that kind of money?"
Alex's tone was sharp, deadpan. "One million from winning the last tournament. The rest… from part-time jobs."
Joe choked. "That's impossible! How much do you spend per day?"
Alex's eyes didn't move.
"Twenty dollars."
The gym went silent.
They all looked down, ashamed. They had wasted thousands on clubs, games, parties.
Alex had saved every cent—fueled by nothing but fire and purpose.
Now the gym was locked to the public.
Everyone had a job now. A mission.
And Alex trained harder than ever before—
Because this wasn't just revenge anymore.
It was war.
MEANWHILE… IN A DARK OFFICE
Sean sat back in a leather chair, legs crossed.
In front of him stood a man in a gray suit, with a carved cane and tattooed knuckles.
His father. Miguel Santos.
The cartel boss.
From Mexico.
Miguel stared at his son. "Why did you do it, Sean? Why kill the boy's mother?"
Sean hesitated. "He… made me look weak."
"That's it?"
"Yeah. He humiliated me."
Miguel nodded slowly. "You know, I'm proud you can scare people. It means you have something in your blood. But for a petty thing like this?"
Sean lowered his head. "I just followed my feelings."
Miguel lit a cigar. "Fine. I'll keep the cops off your back. Just don't let this spiral out of control."
"Thanks, Dad."
Miguel turned and walked out.
But his eyes said something else.
BACK AT THE GYM
Ash burst into the room, holding a laptop.
"Alex!" he shouted. "We found something!"
Alex walked over, slow and calm, like a shadow moving through fire.
"What is it?"
Ash turned the screen.
"This is Sean's background. His father… Miguel Santos. Cartel boss. Ex-hitman. Mexican mafia. The real deal."
The room fell silent.
Joe muttered, "Bro… you're talking about attacking a cartel. You sure you wanna pick that fight?"
Alex's voice cut through the air like steel.
"I'm not just attacking. I'm killing both of them. Father and son."
Everyone froze.
Zairo whispered, "Are you crazy? That's suicide."
Alex's eyes burned with something terrifying.
"You don't have to come. I'll go alone."
He turned and walked out, leaving the room in silence.
LATER THAT NIGHT – AT THE PARK
The sun dipped low, casting an orange glow over the quiet park.
Alex sat on a bench where he once trained with Coach Ray.
His fists were clenched, eyes on the ground, mind filled with ghosts.
Liana approached, quietly.
"Hey, Alex."
He didn't look up. "What do you want?"
She sat beside him, soft and calm.
"Your mom… she wouldn't want this, you know."
"She didn't. But I do."
Liana's eyes filled with tears. "You're not a killer. You're not this person."
"I wasn't. But now I am."
She took a breath. "You want to kill them all?"
"I just want you to help me reach their boss. That's all.
Most of Sean's gang are teens, but some are 18+. His father's bodyguards? All adults.
That makes it legal for pro fighters to fight back."
Liana looked away, defeated.
"…I understand. I'll leave you alone then. Enjoy your peace, Alex."
She stood and walked into the dusk.
Alex didn't move.
Not until the sun was gone.