Inside the private gym, the air was thick with the scent of sweat and the rhythmic sounds of a hard workout. Allen watched as his team of four—the men assigned to Yuri's detail—pushed themselves through their paces. Some scaled ropes with blistering speed, while others tore through drills or pounded the treadmills.
Allen took a moment to catch his breath. His phone vibrated against his palm. He glanced at the screen, read the brief message, and raised his voice over the din of the gym.
"Listen up! The new recruit arrives this evening."
The training didn't stop, but a series of sharp nods rippled through the group. One of the men drifted over to Allen, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Allen, are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice skeptical. "Is it wise to let a complete unknown into the inner circle?"
Allen gave a curt nod. "He's strong. That's all you need to know for now."
The bodyguard didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. His expression remained a mask of low expectations.
By the time evening rolled around, Ethan was standing outside the coordinates Allen had sent him. The property belonged to Madison's family—a sprawling estate that housed a state-of-the-art training facility.
Ethan tapped out a quick text: I'm outside.
The reply was instantaneous: Building Three.
Ethan scanned the grounds until he spotted a large, residential-style structure with a prominent '3' embossed near the roofline. He stepped inside, and the heavy door thudded shut behind him, sealing out the evening chill.
The interior was massive—a sprawling hall filled with top-tier equipment that could easily accommodate a hundred men at once. Three large observation windows overlooked the main floor, and a staircase tucked into the corner led to the upper levels. From the signage, Ethan gathered the second floor was for dining and recreation, while the third was reserved for private quarters.
"Ethan."
Allen was standing in the far corner, where a small seating area had been arranged. Ethan's gaze sharpened as he recognized the figures waiting there. Madison's grandfather sat in the left chair, his perennial bodyguard looming like a shadow behind him. In the center sat a young woman—Yuri—and to the right sat another young man.
The three were deep in conversation, though the boy on the right seemed detached. His eyes were closed, his posture eerily calm, and his hand was draped over his face, partially obscuring his features.
He looks familiar, Ethan thought, a flicker of recognition sparking in his mind. Have I seen him before?
Allen walked over to meet him. "Let me introduce you to the team."
"That woman in the center," Allen began, gesturing toward Yuri, "is the one you'll be protecting."
Ethan nodded respectfully. As they approached the group, several of the other bodyguards paused their training to watch the newcomer.
"Everyone, listen up," Allen announced. "This is Ethan. He's joining the unit."
The guards exchanged dubious looks. At the sound of his name, Madison's grandfather looked up and offered a warm smile. Yuri's gaze was more clinical, appraising him from head to toe. Then, the third boy opened his eyes and locked his stare directly onto Ethan.
"I'm Ethan. It's a pleasure to meet you all," Ethan said, his tone polite but steady.
"Kid," one of the guards interrupted, stepping forward with a smirk. "Is this your first time playing bodyguard?"
Ethan didn't blink. "You want to spar?"
The guards shared a laugh. "You've got guts, kid," the man, Noah, said as he stepped into the light. "But guts can get you killed."
"Easy now," Allen cautioned.
"Let them go at it, Allen," another guard, Antonio, interjected. "Let's see if the newbie actually has a spine."
Allen glanced at Yuri. She rose from her seat and walked toward them, stopping just a few paces away. Her eyes were like daggers as she looked at Allen.
"What is this?" she asked.
"They want to spar," Allen replied simply.
Yuri looked at her regular guards, then back at Ethan. He didn't look like a fighter to her—he looked like a liability. She turned her gaze to Allen, hoping he'd put a stop to the nonsense before Ethan got hurt. "What do you think, Allen?"
"I say let them fight," Allen said with total confidence.
Yuri blinked, surprised by his lack of hesitation. Why did I even ask him? she wondered. "Fine. A friendly spar. First one on the ground loses."
The old man chuckled softly. "They're underestimating him. This should be interesting." He turned to the boy sitting next to him. "Jake, who's your money on?"
Jake didn't look up from the floor. "I can't say for sure... but I'll side with Ethan."
The match began.
Noah, a mountain of a man, stood opposite Ethan. He was grinning, clearly expecting to end this in a matter of seconds.
"Begin!" shouted a third guard, Harrison.
Noah lunged instantly. Jake's eyes finally locked onto the action.
Ethan moved like water, slipping past Noah's heavy strikes with effortless grace. When Noah swung a massive right hook, Ethan leaned back, allowing the fist to whistle past his nose. Before Noah could reset, Ethan drove a lightning-fast kick into the man's arm to deflect his guard, then followed up with a rising knee.
Where does a kid get power like that? Noah thought as his balance wavered.
Ethan didn't give him time to recover. Spinning on his heel, he delivered a brutal back-elbow that caught Noah square in the jaw. The big man hit the floor hard, his mouth bloody and his consciousness flickering.
"Ethan wins," Harrison announced, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Ethan looked toward the chairs. The grandfather was beaming. Then, Ethan's eyes drifted to the boy on the right. His heart skipped a beat.
Jake? What is he doing here? Is he a relative?
Jake looked down at him, his expression an unreadable mask.
"I'm next," a guard named Ben growled, stepping forward and snapping Ethan out of his thoughts. "Noah was sloppy. I won't be."
"You should pick him," Jake said quietly, his eyes returning to the floor.
Yuri looked at Jake, startled. "Noah was caught off guard, that's all," she insisted, though her voice lacked conviction. "He underestimated him."
Jake didn't reply. He just watched the floor, waiting for the next round to begin.