In the cafeteria, the silence was broken only by the heavy footsteps of **Golgo** and **Rahale Afsani** as they entered. Every eye was on them. Golgo looked like a walking bomb, but he was strangely quiet.
Suddenly, a slick, confident guy stepped out from a corner table: **Vager**, No. 2 in the Mosquito Group.
"Well, well, look who decided to crawl back," Vager drawled, circling Golgo slowly. "The great Golgo, one-tapped by a history book. You're a disgrace, mate. Max is already talking about demoting you to No. 7."
Vager was pure ragebait, throwing insult after insult, but Golgo didn't flinch. He didn't even meet Vager's eyes. He just stood there, a statue of humiliation.
Vager sighed dramatically. "At all, you're my teammate and cute buddy. I'll take care of him. You need to rest." He clapped Golgo patronizingly on the shoulder.
Golgo said nothing. Rahale just watched, her expression unreadable. Vager had clearly taken control of the situation.
***
Meanwhile, in the dusty storeroom, **Hawk** was moving fast. He was throwing a sharp Jab and a powerful Cross, trying to hit **Thor Belfrin**.
Thor, still holding the paralyzed **Murg** upright with one hand, dodged every strike with zero effort. It was like fighting a ghost.
Frustrated, Hawk changed tactics. He dropped low, going for the takedown, transitioning into the ground-and-pound sequence Hank had taught him—a move designed to finish a street fight fast. Hawk landed hard, smashing his fist down.
*CRASH!*
Hawk looked up, panting. He hadn't hit Thor. He had smashed a dusty wooden chair. Thor was still standing exactly where he started, Murg still frozen beside him.
Thor slowly clapped once. "Impressive movement, Stroke. Good use of leverage."
He smiled, a cold, knowing expression. "But I know someone who used that move a thousand times better than you. What was his name, hm... hm... Oh, yeah. Hank."
Hawk froze instantly.