Overdrive!

*Sunny's POV*

Another night. Another aching shift. And still not enough money.

I walked with my head low, backpack hanging off one shoulder, hoodie up to block out the world. My body was sore in all the usual places — knees from standing, arms from lifting crates, back from sleeping on the floor. None of that mattered.

What mattered was the number stuck in my head.

*Three thousand dollars left.*

That was all I needed to finally pay the rest of my school fees. The office lady had already warned me twice — one more delay and I'd be out. Just like that.

I tried not to think about it, but the thought clung to me like the humidity in the air.

Just a few more shifts.

Just a few more weeks.

I took the usual shortcut behind the school, past the construction site. I walked this way every night. It was quiet. No people, no traffic. Just the sound of my own footsteps.

But tonight... something felt wrong.

Then I heard them.

Laughter. Heavy boots scuffing concrete.

I looked up.

There they were.

Raphael stood in the center like some kind of twisted movie villain, a metal bat resting casually on his shoulder. Beside him — Jack, Dean, and two other thugs I didn't know.

My gut went cold.

"Didn't think we'd forget, did you?" Raphael grinned. "Let's talk about respect, cashier boy."

Five of them. All armed.

I didn't say a word.

I turned and ran.

"GET HIM!"

They sprinted after me.

I dashed into the narrow alleys, jumping over trash bins, dodging broken fences. My lungs burned. My legs screamed. But I kept going.

One wrong step.

My foot slipped on wet stone, and I hit the ground hard.

Then they were on me.

First came the bat — straight across my back. Pain ripped through me. Then a kick to the ribs. Then another.

I gritted my teeth.

No screaming.

Never scream.

Then I saw boots surrounding me.

And I knew I couldn't outrun it this time.

---

*Daniel's POV*

"What do I even want? Chips? Too salty. Bread? Boring. Maybe those spicy rolls…"

I wandered down the sidewalk near the back alley convenience stall, mumbling to myself, hands stuffed in my pockets. My stomach growled, and I had just enough change for one thing. Not two. Definitely not three.

I stopped at the corner, peering at the dim lights of the food stall.

Then I heard it.

*Thud.*

*Laughter*

Another *crack* — not a joke kind. The kind that makes your spine freeze.

Curious, I turned my head.

There, in the alley just ahead—

Sunny.

On the ground.

Five guys around him.

One of them raised a bat — it came down hard.

Sunny didn't scream.

He just curled tighter.

I couldn't move at first.

*Do something,* my brain whispered.

*Do anything.*

I looked around wildly. No cops. No people. Just empty road.

Then — I saw them.

Two long iron rods leaned against a cracked wall. Rusted. Probably dumped there by some worker a week ago.

I grabbed both.

They were heavy. Awkward in my hands. But I didn't care.

I crept up behind the guy on the far left — Dean, I think — his back was to me.

I swung.

*CLANG*

Dean dropped instantly.

"What the hell?!"

The others turned. I swung again — missed. A hand grabbed my shirt. I was slammed into the wall. My head spun.

A boot hit my chest.

Raphael stepped closer, lifting the bat.

"Wrong night to play hero."

But then — movement.

Sunny, battered and bleeding, had pulled himself to one knee.

He reached toward me.

Without thinking, I tossed him one of the rods.

He caught it. Barely. His grip shaky.

Still, he stood.

Blood trickled from his lip. One eye was nearly swollen shut.

But he looked alive.

I picked myself up beside him, holding the rod like I knew how to use it.

Sunny glanced at me, breath ragged. "You're an idiot."

"Maybe," I muttered. "But I'm not letting you die alone."

The five of them looked at us like we were insects about to be crushed.

But I didn't care anymore.

Because now it wasn't five against one.

It was two against five