The Phantom Groom System

Chapter 3: A Martial Artist? Not Much of One

Crash!

Something heavy toppled inside the house.

Danny cursed under his breath, no point worrying about noise now.

He plowed straight through the courtyard gate, booted the black dog out of his path, and charged for the inner house.

Bang!

One kick shattered the wooden door into splinters.

Danny stepped through without slowing, scanned left and right, then pushed into the bedroom.

Pitch dark, but he could still see everything clearly.

Just a tangle of sheets on the bed. No one in sight.

Moved that fast?

Danny's brow furrowed. Then his eyes landed on a water barrel tucked in the corner.

He flipped his grip on the knife and crossed the room slowly.

Scratch...

A faint sound came from behind the barrel.

He stepped around it and found a hidden passage cut into the wall.

A pair of bare feet twitched inside it, inching along as quietly as possible.

With Danny's sharpened senses, it might as well have been a marching band.

He grabbed the ankles and hauled the person out bodily.

A curvy woman tumbled free, dressed in nothing but a red slip, her pale skin bright even in the dark.

"Don't kill me! Please, don't kill me!" Her legs buckled and she dropped to her knees, hands flailing.

"I, I belong to Boss Cutter! Cutter of the Razor Society! You lay a finger on me and he'll"

Her voice caught. She'd finally gotten a good look at his face. Panic melted into shock, then a flush of embarrassment.

"...Danny?"

Danny stared at her, expression flat.

Gloria. Vince's woman. And, as it happened, this body's former mistress.

And apparently now she could add "Boss Cutter of the Razor Society" to her growing list of men on the side.

Gloria's mouth twisted into a nervous laugh. "I, I thought Cutter's men had come for me..."

She was already inching backward, her voice dropping lower with every word.

Her eyes caught the blood dripping off the knife in his hand.

"No, Danny, please! It wasn't me, it was that bastard Vince! That bracelet, I don't know anything about it, I swear"

That kind of panic didn't exactly scream *innocent*. But Danny didn't have time to grill this woman.

"Enough." He cut her off sharply. "Where's Vince?"

She flinched, eyes darting down toward the passage.

Danny dropped her and crouched to check it. Barely three feet wide, low enough that a grown man would have to crawl.

He narrowed his eyes and didn't bother climbing in. Instead he asked, "Where's the other end come out?"

"B-behind the house..."

He was already back on his feet and out the door before she finished the sentence.

A tunnel that tight, by the time he crawled through, Vince would be long gone. Worse, if Vince had left a trap waiting inside, Danny wouldn't have room to so much as flinch.

Better to beat him to the exit.

Instead of circling around through the front, Danny leapt, caught the eaves, and hauled himself onto the roof using nothing but shoulder and back strength.

He crossed the rooftops in a few strides and dropped down on the far side of the courtyard.

Thud.

He landed cleanly in the alley behind the house.

Just ahead, a shape was clawing its way out of a pile of straw.

"Vince. Going somewhere?"

The quiet words froze the man mid-crawl. He turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing to size up the threat.

Then recognition hit.

"...You? The hell, it's just you, kid?"

Vince visibly relaxed, brushing dust off himself as he stood.

"Damn it all, I thought the Razor Society came to collect."

He strolled toward Danny, not sparing a second glance at the dripping knife in his hand.

Standing over him, Vince looked down, and paused.

This pretty-boy who used to grovel and avoid eye contact was now staring straight back at him, without a shred of fear.

Even a cornered mouse bites, Vince supposed.

Then he threw a punch.

So what if the kid had killed someone tonight? Scrawny arms like that, Vince used to smack him around for fun.

And now, with even a first taste of the Kessler Outfit's training under his belt, his strength was up a solid thirty percent from before.

He was sure he could put this kid down before the knife even came up.

What happened next wasn't in the script.

Danny sidestepped the punch without any urgency at all.

Then he threw one straight back.

Oh, he wants to fight? Vince raised a hand to catch the fist.

But the punch suddenly picked up speed.

Bam.

It landed square on Vince's face, sending him stumbling back several steps before he caught his footing.

He shook his head, staring at Danny in disbelief.

Since when did this kid have hands like that?

Before he could recover, Danny was already moving, bouncing lightly, shifting weight with a kind of footwork Vince had never seen in his life, closing the distance step by step.

Vince didn't recognize the style, but every instinct from years of street fighting screamed that this was trouble.

"Come on then!" he roared, throwing the first punch.

Danny tilted his head and let it sail past.

Then answered with a clean jab.

Vince's nose exploded in blood, stars bursting behind his eyes.

Danny closed in while he was still reeling and followed up with an uppercut.

Crack.

Vince's whole frame lifted off the ground before slamming back down.

A flicker of disappointment crossed Danny's face.

This was supposedly a martial artist? No technique whatsoever, half the guys who used to fight for money in his old life could've flattened this man in a phone booth.

He shook his head and stepped forward to start the interrogation.

Then his ear twitched, and he hopped back just in time to dodge a slash aimed at his back.

"Little punk..." Vince snarled, hauling himself up. He wiped the blood off his face like it was nothing.

"A little more durable, I'll give you that," Danny muttered.

"A little more durable?" Vince heard it and lost what little composure he had left.

"I'll show you what a real martial artist can do!"

A low growl rolled out of his throat, followed by a series of sharp cracking sounds, bones popping, muscle swelling, and he charged.

Thud, thud, thud! The ground seemed to shake under him like a bull's stampede.

"Die!"

He wound up and brought a fist crashing down toward Danny with everything he had.

He expected the kid to dodge, then counter.

Instead, Danny just stood there, frozen, as if paralyzed with fear.

He raised one hand, almost lazily.

Vince's fist slammed straight into his open palm.

Slap.

Danny's arm barely swayed from the impact.

"That's it? That's supposed to be power?"

He shook his head and drove a kick straight into Vince's gut.

"GAH!!"

Vince's eyes bulged from the force of it. The blade slipped from his fingers as he dropped to his knees, both hands clutching his stomach.

"I'm on a clock, so let's skip the theatrics." Danny crouched, pulling the bone knife free.

"New rule, Vince. I ask. You answer."

He sank the blade into a precise point on Vince's body.

"AAAAAAAAHHHH!!"

The scream tore through the night sky, echoing across every rooftop in Blackwood Alley.