Return From Prison

Would you like to get married?

Rys's heavy breaths echoed as he pushed himself up and down in a relentless rhythm. His sweat dripped onto the cold concrete floor, but he didn't falter. Each push-up was deliberate, each movement fueled by two years of determination and discipline.

Uncle Kevin leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, watching with a satisfied smile. "You've come a long way, boy," he muttered to himself.

Rys transitioned seamlessly from push-ups to practicing Wing Chun, his movements precise and fluid. His fists struck an imaginary opponent as he visualized every move, every counterattack, every block. Kevin nodded in approval, the corners of his lips lifting as he saw the confidence in Rys's posture and the power in his strikes.

"Focus," Kevin said calmly.

"I am, Uncle Kevin," Rys replied, a rare smile creeping onto his lips as he continued to train.

After a grueling session, Rys shifted to shadow boxing, his fists cutting through the air like blades. He closed his eyes, imagining opponents closing in on him from all sides, dodging their attacks and countering with perfect precision. Sweat rolled down his face, but he didn't stop until his muscles burned and his lungs begged for air.

Finally, Rys wiped his face with a towel, his chest heaving. He glanced at Kevin, who stood silently, observing his every move. "Thank you, Uncle Kevin," Rys said, his voice steady but filled with gratitude. "I wouldn't be the man I am today without you. If it weren't for your guidance, I'd still be that weak, clumsy fool from before."

Kevin chuckled and shook his head. "Don't thank me, boy. You had it in you all along. You just needed a push, and you took off like a bullet. Not everyone learns as fast as you."

Rys smiled but remained silent, his eyes reflecting a newfound confidence.

Kevin gestured toward Rys's pendant. "May I see that for a moment?"

Rys hesitated briefly but then removed the pendant and handed it to Kevin without a word. Kevin examined the intricate design carefully before taking a photo of it with his phone. He sent the image to someone with a quick message before returning the pendant to Rys. "Keep it safe," he said with a knowing look.

Moments later, a commotion erupted outside their cell. Loud shouts and the sound of struggling caught their attention. Rys and Kevin stepped out to investigate, finding a massive newcomer wreaking havoc. The man, easily 6'2" with bulging muscles, had another inmate in a chokehold, lifting him off the ground effortlessly.

Rys stepped forward, his expression calm. "What's going on here?"

The new inmate turned, tossing the choking inmate aside like a rag doll. The aggressor's eyes narrowed at Rys. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?" he sneered, taking a step forward.

Rys tilted his head, wiping an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve. "Just someone trying to get some peace and quiet. You're making it hard."

The man chuckled darkly, cracking his knuckles as he sized up Rys. "You've got guts, pretty boy. Let's see if you've got fists to match."

The crowd erupted into cheers, prisoners shouting encouragement to the newcomer, eager for a fight. "Show him who's boss!" one shouted. "Let's see the new guy take down the quiet one!"

Rys sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if bored. "Are you done talking yet?"

The man's grin faltered for a moment, replaced by irritation. "You've got a big mouth for someone so small. Don't worry—I'll shut it for you."

With that, the man lunged at Rys, his massive fist swinging toward Rys's face. Rys sidestepped effortlessly, the punch missing him by inches. The crowd gasped as the newcomer stumbled slightly but quickly recovered.

"Fight back, coward!" the man bellowed, throwing another punch.

Rys evaded again, his movements smooth and almost lazy. "Are you sure you want me to?" he asked, his voice calm and even.

"You scared, huh?" the man sneered, his face red with anger. "Afraid your punches are as weak as you look?"

Rys's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Alright. Don't say I didn't warn you."

In a blink, Rys vanished from his spot, reappearing behind the man. Before anyone could register what had happened, the massive newcomer was flat on the cold floor, his arm twisted unnaturally behind his back. A sharp cry of pain escaped his lips as Rys applied just enough pressure to make his point.

Gasps filled the air as the inmates watched in stunned silence.

Rys leaned down slightly, his voice calm but firm. "Next time, keep it down. I don't like noisy neighbors."

Letting go, Rys stood up and walked back to Kevin's side. The crowd parted, their faces a mix of awe and fear.

Kevin chuckled as Rys wiped his hands on his towel. "I told you, kid. You're a natural."

Rys glanced back at the groaning newcomer. "Some people just learn the hard way."

Kevin smirked. "I like your style, kid."

....

The days passed swiftly, and the once weak and clumsy man named Rys had become a figure of fear and respect in the prison. His long hair, occasionally trimmed but mostly left to grow, framed a face that carried the scars and intensity of three years of relentless training and countless battles. Prisoners whispered about him in hushed tones, referring to him as "The Demon," a man who turned the already harsh prison into something far worse than hell itself.

One morning, an official arrived at Rys and Kevin's cell, his steps hesitant as he approached the two. Rys, seated cross-legged on the floor and practicing his breathing techniques, glanced up lazily.

"Mr. Vaughn," the official called out, his voice carrying a mix of reverence and unease.

Rys stood, his towering frame and piercing gaze making the official shift nervously. "What is it?"

The man cleared his throat, clutching his clipboard tightly. "You're being released next week."

A flicker of surprise crossed Rys's face. "Released? But I was sentenced to life imprisonment. What's changed?"

The official sighed, avoiding Rys's eyes. "You've been granted parole. That's all I can say. Prepare yourself."

Before Rys could press further, Kevin let out a hearty laugh, slapping Rys on the back. "Well, well, kid. Looks like the universe is giving you another chance. Don't ask too many questions—just take the good news and run with it."

Rys looked at Kevin, his brows furrowed, but Kevin's reassuring smile made him nod. The official bowed slightly to Kevin before turning and leaving, leaving Rys with more questions than answers.

....

The day of Rys's release came quickly.

Rys turned to Kevin, his usual stoic expression softening slightly. "Thank you, Uncle Kevin. I wouldn't be who I am today without you."

Kevin smirked, lighting a cigar. "I just gave you the tools, kid. You did the work. Don't forget your mission when you're back in the city."

Rys nodded solemnly. "I won't, Master."

Kevin extended his hand, and Rys clasped it firmly. "Take care of yourself, kid. And remember—don't waste the second chance you've been given."

With one final nod, Rys turned and walked away. Inmates watched the man who had dominated the prison for three years walk toward the gates, the heavy doors slamming shut behind him.

.....

....

...

Before anyone could react, the man pressed the blade of his knife against Rys's neck.

"Nobody move, or this pretty boy gets it!" he declared, his voice dripping with malice.

Gasps echoed through the room. The two women covered their mouths, horrified, whispering frantically.

"They've got him!"

"He was just trying to leave! Someone do something!"

Rys, however, didn't flinch. His expression remained calm, almost bored, as if the blade against his skin was no more than a toy.

The other robber grinned, emboldened by his partner's control of the situation. "Good. Now, everyone else—empty your pockets! Valuables on the table!"

The hostages began complying reluctantly, placing wallets, phones, and jewelry on the nearest surface. Yet all eyes kept darting back to Rys, who remained eerily composed, standing perfectly still with the knife still at his throat.

"Are you deaf?" the man holding Rys hissed. "You don't look scared. What, you think you're tough or something?"

Rys's lips twitched into a slight smile. His voice was low, steady, and cold. "You really don't want to do this."

The man frowned, momentarily thrown off by the sheer confidence in Rys's tone. "Oh yeah? And why's that?"

With lightning speed, Rys twisted his body, breaking free of the man's grip. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the assailant's wrist, forcing the knife out of his hand. Before the robber could react, Rys delivered a sharp elbow to his ribs, sending him sprawling to the floor.

The second robber lunged at Rys with his knife, but Rys sidestepped effortlessly, grabbing the man's wrist and flipping him over onto the ground with a swift movement. The knife clattered away, and Rys pinned him down with one knee.

The entire barbershop was silent, the hostages staring in awe at the scene that had just unfolded in mere seconds.

Rys dusted off his hands and turned to the stunned crowd. "You can call the police now."

The barber, still holding his scissors, stammered, "W-who are you?"

Rys glanced back at the robbers, who were groaning in pain on the floor, then at his reflection in the mirror. With a smirk, he adjusted his collar and replied, "Just a man trying to get a haircut."

As the police sirens drew nearer, Rys walked out of the barbershop, leaving behind the chaotic scene without so much as a backward glance.

His presence on the street immediately drew attention—not because he was intimidating, but because he was undeniably striking. Women stared openly, men nodded in grudging admiration, and even the flamboyant shopkeeper on the corner couldn't resist biting his lip as he watched Rys stroll past.

At one point, a stray dog wagged its tail enthusiastically and followed Rys for several steps, seemingly captivated by his aura. A nearby cat hissed at the dog, as if annoyed by its enthusiasm, before turning its piercing gaze toward Rys and meowing loudly.

"What's your problem?" Rys muttered, raising a brow at the feline. The cat, almost as if understanding, strutted away with a flick of its tail.

Continuing down the street, Rys stumbled upon a busy food stall. The aroma of grilled skewers wafted through the air, making his stomach growl. He approached the vendor, ordered a quick meal, and stood aside to eat.

As he savored his meal, a group of college girls approached the stall. One of them gasped audibly upon seeing him. "Oh my gosh, are you an actor?" she asked breathlessly, her friends giggling and nudging each other.

"Actor? No," Rys replied flatly, but his disinterest only seemed to fan the flames of their fascination.

"Can we take a picture with you? Please?" another girl begged, her phone already in hand.

Rys hesitated for a moment before shrugging. "Fine."

The girls squealed with excitement, snapping selfies with him. Some were too shy to get close, while others stood boldly next to him, their cheeks flushed.

After finishing his food, Rys disposed of the wrapper and walked further into the bustling city square. He spotted a towering Christmas tree in the middle of the plaza, its lights twinkling against the early evening sky. Rys stood still for a moment, gazing at the decorations before muttering under his breath, "It's almost December."

He made his way to the base of the Christmas tree and sat down on a nearby bench, finally allowing himself to relax. The cold air was refreshing, and the cheerful chatter of people around him brought a rare sense of calm.

Out of nowhere, a stunning woman approached him, standing out amidst the bustling crowd. She had striking black eyes that seemed to pierce through the soul, and her black hair cascaded in elegant waves down her back. Dressed in a pristine white dress that highlighted her graceful figure, she exuded an air of sophistication and poise.

She stopped a few steps in front of Rys, her gaze steady and unwavering. For a moment, she simply studied him, her presence commanding attention even in the lively square. Then, with a confident smile, she asked, without hesitation, "Would you like to get married?"

Rys blinked, caught off guard by the boldness of her question. He stared at her, unsure whether she was joking or serious. "Excuse me?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

The woman's smile widened slightly, as if she found his reaction amusing. "You heard me," she said, her tone calm but assured. "Do you want to get married?"