The Mafia Prince And His Reincarnated Nemesis -
Chapter 37: Eduardo’s Fight!
Chapter 37: Eduardo’s Fight!
Those men rushed towards Eduardo with their weapons, hoping to kill him. Eduardo wasn’t holding anything in his hands but it won’t stop him from making a move.
Without missing a beat, he used the momentum of the first punch to whirl around and elbow another man in the face. The sounds of grunts and shuffling feet filled the room as the fight quickly escalated. They were all groaning in pain as Eduardo hit them.
"Are you that useless? Hurry up and hit him! We must get this document to the boss immediately" the traitor yelled, gathering the documents in the bag. They got up from the floor and continued.
The fight quickly turned into a whirlwind of motion as the men threw punches and jabs at him from all sides. But Eduardo was well-trained, even though it was for a short while. His body moved with a fluid grace that seemed almost effortless. He dodged, blocked, and retaliated with deadly precision. Despite being outnumbered, he held his own and managed to land several powerful blows of his own. However, it was just Eduardo fighting a group of men. Some of the men managed to hit him, while some were down already. Blood streamed from his lip, but his expression remained stoic and determined.
’How many of them are down already?’
The fight was intense and frenzied, with men flailing and fighting for every advantage. Eduardo’s movements were quick and precise, his fighting style seemed more like a dance. He threw punches, kicks, and blocks in a seemingly effortless flow, taking down each of his opponents one by one. His breath came in short, laboured gasps, but he showed no signs of slowing down.
Finally, only a few men were left standing. They fought with newfound desperation, realization starting to dawn that the situation was growing worse. A few of them attacked him with daggers, but he snatched the daggers from them, thrusting them into their necks and chests instead. Blood spilt across his face and also on the floor as their bodies fell on the floor.
The traitor stood, leaning on the wall, hugging the bag of documents he had stolen. He watched in horror as his men fell to the ground one after the other.
.
Marcello and Viktor managed to get through one of his men. Viktor was a bit furious. He would have ignored the call but he answered it.
"Where are you?"
"Huh? Viktor?"
"It’s me! Where are you? Don’t waste any time!" He yelled, venting his anger on the one who called.
"We are at the town by the east wide. The one by the river. We are still finding the exact location"
"I see" was Viktor’s response. He whispered the address to the driver and he increased his speed.
"Is Eduardo with them?" Marcello was curious.
Viktor asked them and he got a negative answer. He shook his head at Marcello.
"Shit!" Marcello cursed in Italian language.
"Make sure they find Eduardo first"
"Yes... Young master" he replied.
.
The receptionist had a furious look on his face as the banging sound coming from the room was disturbing his video game.
"When will it be over? Those bastards are ruining my game"
The sound of bones snapping and grunts of pain echoed through the hotel room as the fight continued. Blood splattered across the walls and floors, creating a gruesome sight that only fueled the intensity of the fight. Despite his tired state, Eduardo’s skills were unmatched, and he quickly took out the remaining men without mercy.
With the last man falling to the ground, the room fell eerily silent and It was left with the traitor, who was hiding with the bag around his body.
Panting and bleeding, Eduardo stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by the unconscious bodies of his opponents. Well, some of them were dead. The aftermath of the fight was gruesome, the room now painted in crimson.
"Thank goodness it’s over!" The receptionist grumbled with his eyes still stuck on his phone.
Eduardo took a moment to catch his breath, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of further threat. Of course, it was remaining just the traitor. His adrenaline was still pumping, but his body was beginning to feel the effects of the fight.
He lifted his shirt to wipe the blood from his face, wincing as he came in contact with a fresh gash on his forehead. His knuckles stung, scraped and bruised from the battle. Despite the pain, he felt a sense of satisfaction.
"That felt good. Woah!" He bent his back, as his bone made a short cracking sound.
"You! How could you? I thought you were just... A fuckboy" the traitor groaned.
Eduardo turned around and locked eyes with the traitor.
"Fuckboy, huh? Maybe I am. But I managed to catch these men and also stopped you from escaping. Throw that bag, and I’ll let you go"
"Do you think I’ll hand them over to you that easily? These useless men aren’t my last weapon" He laughed loudly and slipped his hand into his bag. One of the guns he stole from Marcello was in his hand. It wasn’t just Marcello’s gun, it was his favourite. Eduardo recognised it well.
It was the silver Glock 17 that Marcello used to end his life, as Carlo.
"I’ll pull the trigger if you move from there" the man threatened.
"Why not kill me instead?"
"I wish I could. But I just remembered, someone else might want to kill you. You’re the fourth person on the boss’ list. Once he gets his hand on you, you’re a dead meat. But, if you allow me to go, I might tell him to make your death faster" he sneered.
’Boss? Who is his boss? Why am I on his list?’
Eduardo was silent, not knowing what to do. He can’t let him escape with the document. He was so deep in thought that he didn’t know when the traitor pulled the trigger.
He snapped out of his thoughts, feeling a sudden pain in his shoulder. He let out a grunt, realizing that he had been shot. He slowly turned his head to look at the injury, noting a deep gash on his shoulder that was leaking blood.
"That wouldn’t be enough to kill you. We’ll meet again, Eduardo" he said and left the room.
Just while Eduardo was on his knees, he heard footsteps from outside. He thought the traitor had arrived to finish him off but it turned out to be Marcello and the other men.
"Why are you always late, you bastard?" He groaned as a weak smile spread across his lips.
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