Chapter 7:the first clash

The city’s skyline glowed with neon lights as Derek crouched on the rooftop, eyes fixed on Red Rose below. Surrounded by his elite enforcers, Red Rose gave orders with effortless control, every motion precise. Derek’s mind raced, analyzing every step, every slight shift in weight.

“This ends tonight,” Derek whispered, adjusting the leather straps of his katana sheath. With a silent leap, he descended into the alleyway, landing opposite Red Rose’s men.

“You’re far too predictable, Cold Genius,” Red Rose said, turning slightly, eyes glinting with cold amusement.

“I don’t do predictable,” Derek shot back, drawing his katana. “I’m efficient.”

The thugs charged first, but Derek’s katana and martial precision made short work of them. He executed spinning kicks, elbow strikes, and parried knife attacks, all while mocking them: “Really? That’s your combo? My little brother hits harder in his sleep.”

Red Rose’s eyes narrowed. He stepped forward gracefully, a master of movement, light on his feet but carrying lethal force. Derek lunged, katana slashing. Red Rose sidestepped, grabbing the blade mid-swing.

“You’re strong,” Red Rose said, smirking. “But strength alone won’t win.”

Derek pulled back, switching to hand-to-hand combat, delivering punches and flying knees. Red Rose countered with precise spins, backfists, and sweeping kicks. Sparks flew when Derek’s blade struck a thug’s steel pipe.

“You really like running your mouth,” Red Rose said. “Don’t get distracted.”

“And you like being cocky,” Derek retorted, spinning, rolling, ducking—combining katana strikes, punches, and spinning elbows. Red Rose blocked, countered, forced him back, exploiting openings Derek hadn’t realized he left.

“You think you can take me head-on?” Red Rose said, landing a side kick. “You’re clever, but still naive.”

Derek gritted his teeth. He lunged again, mixing martial and blade techniques, catching Red Rose off guard for a moment—but Red Rose recovered instantly, executing a spinning backfist, sending Derek sprawling.

“Enough games,” Red Rose said, towering over him. “You have potential… but potential doesn’t win fights.”

Derek lay on the ground, he muscles aching, blood trickling from his lip. “You got me this time,” he said. “But next time? No gap will exist for you to exploit.”

Red Rose tilted his head, amusement returning. “I’ll be waiting.”

As Red Rose disappeared into the shadows, Derek pulled himself up, katana in hand, already calculating his next steps. Brute skill alone wouldn’t win this war. Planning, patience, and strategy would.