THE ART OF BREAKING HEARTS

The Sergeant's Urgent News

 The sergeant rushed across the park, his boots pounding against the grass as he hurried toward the captain. His face was tense, his breathing heavy from the urgency of his message. When he reached the captain, he stood straight and saluted quickly before speaking.

 "Captain, I have urgent news!" the sergeant said, his voice tight with concern. "Reports say a group of thieves has invaded Charlie's Hospital! They're stealing expensive medical equipment right now!"

 The captain took a deep breath, his expression calm but serious. He looked around the park, where over a hundred young men lay injured, some barely conscious, their bodies bruised and broken. The scene was chaotic—medical personnel rushed between the wounded, trying to stabilize them.

 With a low, steady voice, the captain replied, "Sergeant, we'll deal with that later… if there's time."

 The sergeant's eyes widened in shock. "But, sir, it's"

 The captain raised a hand, cutting him off immediately. "Sergeant, look around you," he said firmly. "We have more than a hundred young men here, beaten so badly they're nearly dead. Right now, they are our priority. We don't have time for thieves. Call in our team—and get the special medical unit here immediately. Once these men are stable, then we'll investigate what happened here."

 The sergeant hesitated for only a second before snapping back to attention. "Yes, sir!" He saluted sharply, then turned and hurried off to carry out his orders.

 As soon as the sergeant was gone, the captain pulled out his phone and dialed a number. The line rang twice before it was answered.

 "Broom… broom…"

 A voice on the other end picked up, but no words were spoken. The captain's voice was quiet but urgent. "I need you."

 The call ended abruptly.

 Without wasting another second, the captain turned to the rest of his team. "Listen up, everyone!" he commanded. "I want this entire park sealed off—every piece of evidence preserved. And someone find me something useful—tell me what happened here!"

 Peter's Home – A Mother's Frustration

 Inside Peter's house, tension filled the air.

 In the parents' bedchamber, the door suddenly swung open with a sharp bang! Peter's mother stormed inside, her face tight with anger. She grabbed the door and slammed it shut behind her, the sound echoing through the room.

 Without pause, she marched to the left side of the room where her wardrobe stood. Hanging there was her bathing towel. She snatched it down, then began stripping off her clothes, her movements quick and frustrated.

 As she stepped into her private bathroom and turned on the water, she muttered under her breath, her voice bitter.

 "Every time there's a problem, he takes his son's side—no matter what! Even when the boy is clearly wrong!" She clenched her fists, the hot water pouring over her as her anger simmered. "That idiot husband of mine… One day, that boy's attitude is going to cause a huge disaster!"

Charlie's Hospital.

The heavy rain had just begun to fall, tapping lightly against the broken gate of Charlie's Hospital. The metal gate lay twisted on the ground, kicked down earlier by Peter in his furious rush to get inside.

Peter sat on the wet pavement beside the security guard he had tied up. The guard's head drooped forward, half-asleep, his body shivering from the cold. But Peter wasn't paying attention to him. Instead, his mind was lost in painful memories—echoes of his ex-girlfriend's voice ringing in his ears.

"I hate you, Peter. You think money and fame are all a relationship needs, but they're not. A relationship needs love. Before you enter into one, you first need to love, care, and be ready to face problems—and overcome them together. That's what a real relationship is. I'm sorry, but I can't continue this anymore. I've found someone better. And honestly, I don't know if you'll ever find someone who truly loves you like I did… or someone you'll truly love. Goodbye, Peter. Thanks for acting like a joke in this relationship."

The words cut deep, replaying over and over in his mind.

Just then, a cold drop of water splashed onto Peter's face, snapping him out of his thoughts. He looked up—dark clouds had gathered, and the rain was starting to fall harder. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and flashes of lightning lit up the night sky.

Peter slowly stood up, brushing the dirt off his clothes. His eyes burned with unshed tears as he turned toward the hospital entrance. But before he could take another step, the guard called out to him, his voice shaky from the cold.

"Hey… young man… don't leave me like this. The rain's about to get worse, and my body can't handle the cold…"

Peter stopped. His fists clenched. Without turning around, he spoke in a low, dangerous voice.

"Even if you die right now, it wouldn't affect me. Shut up and stay there until someone comes to rescue you."

The guard opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, hurried footsteps echoed from inside the hospital. Peter turned just as James—one of his men—burst through the doors, his face wet with tears.

"Boss… one… one…" James stammered, struggling to get the words out.

Peter's expression darkened. "Yes, one what? Speak up!"

James wiped his face, his voice breaking. "One of Josiah's men… the young boy who just joined us… he's dead. The doctor confirmed it."

The moment those words left James' mouth, the guard's blood ran cold. He remembered Peter's earlier threat: "If anything happens to any of my friends, I will make you pay." The words repeated in his mind like a death sentence.

Peter's body trembled—first with grief, then with rage. The rain poured down harder now, soaking his clothes as thunder roared above them. He let out a furious scream, a sound filled with pain and anger.

"Go back inside," he ordered James, his voice barely controlled. "Stay with the others."

James nodded quickly and retreated into the hospital.

Peter turned back to the guard, his eyes burning with fury. "You see what you caused? This death wouldn't have happened if you had just let us in. Now that one of them is gone… are you happy?"

The guard shook violently, fear gripping him as Peter stepped closer. "P-please, sir… it's not my fault! I was just following the rules!"

Peter listened, then clicked his tongue in disgust. Without another word, he walked behind the guard and untied the ropes binding him.

The moment the guard was free, his fearful expression twisted into a sneer.

"Fool," he spat, glaring at Peter. "Do I look like I care if your friends die? Now that I'm free, there's no point pretending. I already texted the police—they'll be here soon."

Peter stared at him. Then, slowly, a chilling smile spread across his face—even as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"I was almost willing to let you go… but now? All my anger… I'm going to unleash it on you."

Before the guard could react, Peter lunged forward. He grabbed the man's head with both hands and slammed it hard into his knee.

CRACK!

The guard screamed as blood gushed from his nose and lips, splattering onto the rain-soaked ground. He collapsed, writhing in pain, but Peter wasn't done.

He grabbed the guard by his collar, lifting him up with one hand.

"We're just getting started."

To be continued…