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Lahat ng Kabanata ng Best Buddy: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

13 Kabanata

Prologue

1. Deal with a stranger

Matthew was running for his life. His lungs burned with every breath, each step tearing pain through his battered body. Blood smeared his vision, sweat stinging the open wounds on his face as his fingers clenched around a gun that had no bullets. After escaping the building, he had lost his bodyguards and now, death was chasing him. Four men thundered behind him, their footsteps echoing like a countdown. They, too, carried guns with no bullets. “If I see that bastard again,” Matthew snarled between breaths, “I’ll fucking kill him myself!” Matthew walk into an alley behind a middle-class restaurant. Darkness swallowed him whole. Flickering lights buzzed in this alley and only lightning the rusted trash bins and damp concrete. There's no one here. He can't ask for help, he can only help himself in this kind of situation “Fuck!! where the hell are my bodyguards?” he gasped. His body screamed in pain. Bruises layered over bruises, wounds reopened with every movement. His legs

2. Shameless guy

"BEHIND YOU!!" Matthew screams as one of Kuznetsoz men tried to sneak attack behind the mans back but his frustrations and anxiousness was changed in shock and disbelieves as Kuznetsoz man flew far away from them in just split second. What the hell? Matthew looked at the man wearing a cap and an apron that now slowly put down his left feet on the ground. The man in the cap kicked one of Kuznetsoz men who sneakly attacked his back and made him fly away from them. Everyone looks at the man in the apron in disbelief, no one reacts or makes any noise. The man in the apron moved before Matthew could even blink. A firm grip seized Matthew’s arm and yanked him backwards. In one smooth motion, the man placed himself between Matthew and Kuznetsoz men, broad shoulders blocking the line of fire like an unbreakable wall. Matthew didn't even manage to react as the situation escalated fast in front of him. Then the man in the apron, smiled. Not a nervous smile. Not a forced one. A calm, infuriati

3. Who's my Savior?

Matthew lay sprawled across the king-size bed, his body battered and bandaged, an IV drip slowly feeding into his right hand. The room around him was enormous, lavishly decorated with massive chandeliers that threw fragmented light across the polished marble floors. Yet the grandeur could not mask the tension in the air. Butlers and maids moved silently around the corners of the mansion, while men dressed in black stood like statues, guns clutched tightly in their hands, eyes scanning for any hint of danger. Every move, every breath, was measured; a single misstep here could mean death. Elsewhere in the mansion, a storm was brewing. In the massive gym, five bodyguards were dropping into push-ups with the ferocity of men fearing death itself. “You will not leave until you realize what your shortcomings are! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” the man in black shouted, his voice sharp enough to crack the air. His outfit—completely black, with a matching hat—marked him as no ordinary captain. “YES, C

4. Can't trace him.

Lord Michael placed a hand under his chin, his expression shifting. “I investigated him,” he said slowly. “But strangely....we couldn’t find any information about him at all.” Matthew frowned “What?” “I had Dan speak to every restaurant owner in the area you mentioned,” his father continued, tapping the iPad. “None of them recognizes him.” He turned the screen toward Matthew. CCTV footage began to play. There... among Kuznetsov’s men, was the figure Matthew remembered. Moving swiftly. Fighting cleanly. His face hidden beneath the brim of a cap. “As you can see.....” Lord Guerrero said, pointing at the screen, “he’s the only one whose face is barely visible.” Matthew stared. No matter how the footage was replayed, the man’s face never appeared clearly. “That’s impossible,” Matthew said sharply. “He was wearing an apron. He had to be working in one of those restaurants.” “The owners believe he might be a delivery man from one of their partner companies,” his father replied calmly

5. His silhouette was haunting me. (R+18)

Matthew froze as he saw the familiar back of the man, his heart hammering like a war drum. What the hell? Don’t tell me he’s that guy.... Before his mind could catch up, a hand yanked at his arm. “Matthew, come on, why are you still spacing out?” His friend’s voice cut through the haze, dragging him back to reality. And just like that, the man in black vanished in his sight, swallowed by the club’s shadows. Matthew’s jaw clenched and teeth grinding. Fuck this stupid bastard. His eyes snapped to the friend who had pulled him. “Okay, okay. Just chill,” he muttered, his every word sharp and coiled with barely contained tension. His friend’s faint smile as he drifted toward the sofa, surrounded by his boy toys that only made Matthew’s blood boil hotter. Instinct drove him to glance back. The other room, dimly lit and humming with muffled music. The man in black re-emerged, his cap pulled low and his face was hidden. A cold, primal thrill surged through Matthew’s chest. A mix of curio

6. His name (R+18)

“You?” Shock rippled through him the moment he recognized the man standing in front of him. He works here? The questions crashed into his head one after another. Wasn’t this guy working at a restaurant? Why was he in a club and dressed like a waiter of all things? What the hell was going on? “What do you mean, ‘you’?” the man snapped irritably. “Pay for what you broke, asshole.” It was the first time Matthew had ever seen him angry. The man he remembered was always smiling sometimes unreadable, sometimes calm but never like this. Never sharp or hostile. Matthew forced himself upright, even though the side of his cheek was still numb, pain throbbing deep beneath his skin. It hurt like hell. He had been worried about this man and now the first thing he did upon seeing him again was throw a punch? “Hey! Don’t you remember me?” Matthew demanded, steadying himself despite the dizziness threatening to drag him back down. His jaw screamed in pain. You damn bastard. If not for the f

7. Gomez Mansion

—Gomez Mansion— “Dad, why did you even bring that crazy man here?” Matthew snapped, glaring sharply at the man standing behind their father. Who knew what Mac Arthur might do? His mind was already unstable—one wrong trigger a disaster would fall to this place “Bleeh.” Mac Arthur glared back like a child and stuck out his tongue. “See, Dad?” Matthew said irritably, pointing straight at him. It would be humiliating if Mac caused trouble here. No one ever knew when his madness would surface. “Enough,” their father scolded. “Both of you. We’re not at home, so don’t cause trouble.” He took Mac Arthur’s hand firmly. “I’ll watch him myself.” Matthew shot Mac a sharp glare but Mac only grinned and raised his middle finger. Crazy bastard. As always. Matthew followed them deeper into the mansion, where they soon reached the head of the Gomez family. Diego Gomez, his wife, and their young daughter. “We offer our condolences, Uncle Diego, Auntie Hana for Havier’s death,” Matteo said sol

8. Misunderstanding

The entire mansion of Gomez was in Chaos because the second son of the Guerrero suddenly disappeared and no one could find him. “HAVE YOU FOUND MAC ARTHUR?!” Michael Guerrero—the head of the Guerrero family, was almost frantic as he searched for his second son. He was extremely worried and no longer knew where to find and look for his son. “Lord Michael, we’ve already searched the entire Gomez mansion, but we still can’t find him” one of the Guerrero bodyguards’ captains said breathlessly. Michael could only clutch his temple from the overwhelming stress and worry over his missing son. He didn't know what to do anymore as he was starting to feel anxious for his son safety. “Have you checked the CCTV footage?” “Yes Lord, but there was only one footage where we saw Second Young Master Mac Arthur go” the captain reported causing Michael to suddenly feel a spark of hope. “WHERE? WHERE DID YOU SEE HIM GO?! WHERE DID MAC ARTHUR GO??” Michael grabbed the captain by both shoulders and s

9. Same blood

Matthew couldn’t stop the thought from rotting inside his skull. First, the man had been stabbed because of him. Blood, hot and vivid, soaking into the pavement like a curse Matthew couldn’t scrub away and now his own father had pulled the trigger and shot him. If god of misfortune had a favorite victim, it was this man. If fate enjoyed cruelty, it had wrapped its fingers around him and squeezed. Cursed luck. That was the only explanation. When the man’s body had finally gone limp, when his eyes had fluttered shut like a dying star, Matthew hadn’t hesitated. He’d dragged him into the car, hands slick with blood and heart hammering so violently it felt like it might crack his ribs open. Straight to the hospital with no second thoughts and room for hesitation. And still, even then, fate had tried to finish the job. Mac Arthur....That lunatic. His second brother had clung to the man’s leg like a madman, fingers digging in as if the man were the last thing tethering him to sanity. The

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