"Who’s scared?" Ohm said flatly, giving the thugs a cheeky wink. "Hey! You lot!" He pointed his ladle defiantly at the group of a dozen men who were closing in, tightening their circle.

  Phueak didn't hesitate. He scrambled behind Ohm’s broad back instantly. "Go for it, Boss! I’ve got your back as your support!" Phueak whispered with a trembling voice.

  Ohm bared his teeth at his loyal sidekick. "You coward!" he muttered, before turning back to face the tigers with a facade of bravery. "Hey!" Ohm roared, a sound so thunderous it made the thugs flinch.

  Phueak watched with bated breath, wondering which move of Muay Thai his boss would unleash. Even the Chinese thugs in their dragon-patterned leather stayed frozen, waiting to see what secret technique the opponent would reveal.

  "Hey! If you’re brave enough...!" Ohm repeated with dramatic flair. "If you’re brave enough...!" He snarled, though his feet stayed rooted. "You guys...!" He shook the wok forward.

  "Enough of this nonsense! He's just stalling! Get them!" the lead thug roared in Chinese.

  At the command, the thugs charged like a burst dam. Suddenly, Ohm dropped his guard and shouted at the top of his lungs, "In that case... run for your lives!" With that, he bolted toward the back kitchen at light speed.

  Phueak stood stunned for a split second as a club whistled past his face by centimeters. The younger man recoiled instantly and sprinted after his boss without waiting to be stomped on. "You jerk! How could you just bail like that? I thought you weren't scared!"

  Bang! Ohm kicked the back door open and dashed into the narrow alleys of Shanghai. Red and blue neon signs flashed against the iron wok he still clutched in his hand. The sound of frantic footsteps and shouting echoed off the old brick walls.

  "Why are you still holding that wok?! It’s totally in the way!" Phueak yelled from behind, panting heavily.

  "Because I'm hungry, dammit!" Ohm shouted over his shoulder while jumping over a trash can. Coming upon a sharp turn, he tossed the sizzling wok of Stir-fried minced pork with holy basil into the air, over a clothesline, before spinning through a narrow gap like a slippery eel only to catch the falling wok perfectly on the other side.

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  Sizzle! The stir-fry continued to hiss from the momentum of his running. "It’s called... cooking on the go!" Ohm roared with a mocking grin. The pungent aroma of holy basil drifted through the alley

  The superheated holy basil and chilies exploded in the air like tear gas, , forcing the pursuing thugs to sneeze and stumble through their chase.

  "Ugh!! Who eats at a time like this?!" Phueak screamed, clutching his plate of jasmine rice like a priceless treasure while knives and clubs thudded against the walls just behind them.

  The thick rope was tightening ruthlessly around Adisorn’s neck. The immense pressure crushed his windpipe, making his world spin. His face was a dark purple, veins bulging at his temples. Gathering his final ounce of strength, Adisorn drove his heel into the assassin’s stomach, sending the man staggering back.

  Before the attacker could recover, Adisorn lunged, grabbing the masked head and slamming it against the wall Thud! sending the mysterious man reeling.

  Adisorn collapsed, gasping desperately for air. But before he could steady himself, the assassin lunged again, grabbing him by the collar and hurling him into a wooden cabinet Crash!

  A short blade flashed, aimed straight for his torso. Adisorn twisted away just in time, the blade slicing only through his clothes. He tumbled onto the spring mattress as the masked man let out a feral growl, raised the knife high, and drove it down Stab! piercing straight through the ticking.

  Adisorn dodged again, but the Grim Reaper would not let go. The assassin pounced, pinning him down and pressing a thick pillow over his face. The weight was crushing; even his desperate struggles couldn't move it. The world began to dim, his consciousness fading with his final breath.

  However... just before the light went out...

  Snap!

  A shiny black stiletto shoe flew through the air like an arrow. The needle-thin heel buried itself deep into the assassin’s forearm with surgical precision. Crimson blood sprayed across the white pillow. The man recoiled in agony, stumbling away and freeing Adisorn from death’s door.

  Tum and Rosé burst into the room. Seeing the odds change, the assassin tried to use Rosé as a human shield. Tum, seeing the murderous intent aimed at the only woman in the room, threw himself in the way. Lacking any combat training, he was easily overpowered; the masked man twisted Tum's wrist and slammed him into the floor, leaving him breathless and dazed.

  As the intruder lunged to grab her throat, Rosé twisted her wrist revealing a hidden steel guard and landed a heavy hook to the man's chest, sending him flying. The assassin tried a low sweep to take her down, but Rosé sprang into the air with fluid grace, spinning into a powerful roundhouse kick to his ribs!

  Thump!

  The force of the strike sent the assassin reeling back several steps. Rosé landed softly, brushing her long hair back with confidence. She beckoned the enemy with a challenging flick of her finger and a mocking smirk.