10. CRIMSON BETRAYAL

Michael POV

The circles widen around me, the men getting ready to hunt me like hungry packs of wolves. It’s really unfortunate how someone as dangerous as I am could be misprofiled that easily. Even with my muscular build, height, and fighter’s aura, they think I’m just another fighter to be picked on and bullied.

How wrong they are.

As the men begin to move, I form a stance ready for action. But this time, it doesn’t play out how I expect. It seems Samuel Vale gave me up, because these men tread carefully.

After looking for an opening, they attack in unison, using their numbers to their advantage and trying their best to be sneaky. It’s gruesomely overwhelming and fascinating how they attack.

Five of them throw punches with great precision, going for my vitals. Of course, these men are crude in their fighting approach, but they sure have years of fighting experience. It shows in their approach.

Mateo Cruz’s dogs keep going relentlessly, and within minutes, I am already growing increasingly weary of dodging blow after blow.

Sensing the exhaustion in the eyes of the men attacking, I realise something crucial: either I end these guys or get crushed under the weight of their unceasing attacks.

I steady my muscles for defence and take some blows head-on as I return the attack seconds later, aiming for critical hits. Within thirty seconds, five men are down.

The leader of this little faction of the Kingsmen gang cracks his knuckles and grins. “Well, look who survived the Bishop.”

I exhale slowly, knowing fully well that the Bishop has given me out as bait, like a sheep to the slaughter, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to redeem myself at this point.

“So this is happening,” I murmur, but before I can even regroup, he lunges first, tearing through the air toward my face. I duck and drive my elbow straight into his throat. The crunch that follows sends him collapsing backward, choking violently.

The prison erupts into an uproar, and that’s when I discover something chilling. My enemies aren’t just members of the Kingsmen gang; several random inmates begin attacking from different directions. One man comes from the left. I pivot and slam my knee into his ribs, then seize his skull with both hands and smash it into my rising boot.

Blood sprays, and the yard erupts once more.

“Holy shit!”

“He’s taking them all on!”

The second and third attack together, but adrenaline has already swallowed me whole. I catch one wrist, twist until the bone snaps, yank him forward, and use his body as a shield against the fourth man’s punch. Before the fool can recover, I ram my forehead into his nose and hear cartilage explode.

The fifth is larger, more like Jamal, one of the rare giants in the prison.

He charges like a bull, and I meet him head-on. His arms wrap around my waist, but I hammer both fists into the side of his skull repeatedly until his grip loosens. Then I drive my thumb into his eye socket and hurl him to the dirt.

He screams, and the entire yard stays frozen. Even the guards are staring now. Five men brutally dealt with in less than a minute.

“How terrifying is this guy?” they whisper in awe.

Everywhere becomes unusually quiet, and this time, it’s definitely not because of the fight that just took place. The guards are supposed to intervene with their tasers, but no one comes.

My chest heaves as I stand in the center of them, knuckles dripping, vision blazing. For one glorious second, I think it is over.

Then fire enters my abdomen.

I feel a chill rush down my spine as shockwaves of pain engulf me.

I gasp for air as I stare downward, and then I see it. A shank buried deep inside my abdomen. The bastard had come from behind after the fight. He made a sneak attack and stabbed me.

He leans close to my ear while twisting the blade. “Greetings from Jamal,” he whispers. “O’Riley sent me.”

That’s when it dawns on me, another enemy just did a double on me. Agony detonates through my body.

I roar and spin, punching him so hard he flies sideways, but the damage is already done. Blood gushes hot over my prison shirt like a fountain as my knees buckle and I collapse onto the dusty floor.

The last thing I hear before darkness rushes in is prisoners screaming and guards blowing whistles. The corner of my vision picks up someone who looks like Mateo, or maybe another gang boss, smiling mischievously, and then darkness embraces me like a shield.

When consciousness returns, I am beneath the white lights of the prison infirmary. My stomach is bandaged tightly, pain pulsing like a second heartbeat. A male attendant stands beside me, adjusting the drips and making sure I stay alive.

“You’re awake.” He smiles awkwardly at me, grinning with all his teeth.

Something feels creepy. I genuinely wonder what if he is the one Mateo sent to finish me off, or maybe he has bloody ties with O’Riley and Jamal.

Worst-case scenario, he is tied to Samuel and just ends me in the most brutal, unsettling manner imaginable.

“Ease up, bro, why are you staring at me in such an unsettling manner?” the male attendant whispers.

I try to sit up, but weakness pins me to the bed. He glances toward the door, confirming we are alone, then moves closer. “What a shame,” he says softly. “A body like this getting ruined so early.”

My blood turns cold. His hand slides over my chest, and I jerk away.

“What the hell are you doing?” I ask, somewhat bewildered and disturbed by his advances.

He laughs under his breath. “Orders are orders. I need you to know something, if you manage to survive this, maybe we could work something out. That’s why I’m not going to end you right away.”

Before I can shout, he jams something into my dangling drip and stabs my hand with a syringe. My limbs instantly grow heavier.

Damn, I have been drugged.

“No… no… no…” I struggle to mutter the words as pain and regret creep in. I wish I had just agreed to Samuel’s requests. Even a fighter like me can still be crushed under the weight of this immense pressure.