Ethan Cole - The Unlimited System

The smell of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee drifted through the house, drawing sleepy footsteps from every corner.

Morning sunlight poured gently through the kitchen windows, casting golden streaks across the countertops where Julie and Jessica were already hard at work.

The quiet clatter of pans and the soft murmur of conversation filled the warm space.

Despite the early hour, both women looked surprisingly fresh, hair tied up, sleeves rolled, and laughter slipping easily between them as they worked side by side.

They moved like a well-practiced team, chopping, stirring, and plating with effortless rhythm.

"Did you see that video of Darren Lee falling off the stage during his concert?" Jessica asked with a grin, flipping a pancake with flair.

Julie snorted. "Oh, please. That man's been milking that fall for PR ever since."

Jessica laughed. "It was so dramatic! He rolled twice before stopping. Like he thought he was in an action movie."

Julie waved her spatula. "If that was acting, he deserves an award. Honestly, though, I don't know how he's still famous."

"Charisma," Jessica replied with a smirk. "And maybe that jawline."

Julie raised an eyebrow. "You've got better taste than that, Jess."

Jessica shrugged. "I didn't say my taste. Just the public's."

They both burst into giggles, the kind only shared between a mother and daughter who knew each other too well.

"Anyway," Julie said, plating the eggs, "he's lucky it wasn't caught from another angle. I bet half his fans still think he did a flip on purpose."

Jessica rolled her eyes fondly. "One day, I want that kind of confidence. Fall on your face, stand up like you meant to, and have a crowd cheer for it."

Julie chuckled. "Well, I raised you to be bold, not ridiculous."

"Bold and ridiculous," Jessica corrected, grinning.

Outside the kitchen, footsteps were beginning to stir, but for now, it was just them. Mother and daughter. Laughter and pancakes. Gossip and warmth.

A normal morning, at least for a little while.

Ethan was the first to arrive, offering a quiet "Morning," followed by Mark, who nodded politely and made his way to the coffee pot. Jordan stumbled in last, hair still messy from sleep, but his grin was already fully awake.

"Smells like heaven in here," he declared, stretching his arms wide. "Don't mind me if I grab the biggest piece of bacon—"

"Over my dead body," Jessica cut in, swatting at his reaching hand with a spatula.

Jordan gasped. "You wound me, Jess."

"You'll survive," she replied with a smirk.

Josh and Joshua appeared moments later, still in their matching pajamas and full of mischief. They dove straight into the table with all the enthusiasm of kids promised a feast.

"No way! The biggest piece goes to us!" Josh protested, grabbing a slice before Jordan could blink.

"Yeah! We're still growing, remember?" Joshua added, cheeks already stuffed.

"Growing?" Jordan scoffed, pretending to count their ribs. "You two are already eating like linebackers."

That earned a round of laughter from everyone at the table.

There were other dishes on the table, too. Scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit.

Just as they were about to eat, a loud knock at the front door interrupted them. It was not the friendly knock that you used to get. The sound filled the house and broke the happy atmosphere.

Julie's face instantly paled. Her hand froze mid-motion, and she exchanged a worried glance with Harold.

The twins stopped eating, their expressions turning tense.

Ethan and Mark, ever observant, immediately picked up on the shift. Jordan could sense something was amiss, but he tried his best to remain composed.

Ethan and Mark looked at each other without speaking, both feeling that something was wrong.

Julie stood up quickly and wiped her hands on a dish towel.

"Excuse me for a moment," she said, her voice tense.

Harold leaned back in his chair, looking concerned. Josh and Joshua shared worried looks; their usual playfulness was gone.

Jessica leaned in toward her brothers, her brow furrowed with concern.

"What's going on?" she asked, voice low. "Why do you both look so tense?"

Neither twin answered.

Josh glanced away, jaw clenched, while Joshua shook his head, clearly trying to brush her off without saying a word.

Jordan noticed the tension too and leaned closer, ever the one to poke.

"Hey, what's with you two?" he asked, his tone casual but curious. "You look like someone just walked in and dropped a ghost story on the table."

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Still, no answer.

The twins' eyes remained fixed nervously on the front door.

And then—
CRASH!

The sharp sound of shattering glass rang through the house like a gunshot. Everyone froze. The echo stretched long and loud.

"Mom!" Jessica's chair scraped back as she shot to her feet, panic slicing through her voice. She bolted toward the front of the house.

Ethan and Mark were already up, following fast, with Jordan close behind. The rest scrambled to their feet in confusion and alarm.

Jessica was the first to reach the entrance.

"Mom?! What happened?!" she called out, breathless.

As the others caught up, they reached the front hallway, and then they saw it.

Four men stood just beyond the broken front window, now stepping onto the porch with slow, deliberate confidence.

Three held baseball bats at their sides like they were made for it. The fourth, clearly their leader, held a gun.

He stood with a smug tilt of the chin, eyes scanning the family inside like he was choosing which one to hurt first.

Julie stood frozen in the doorway, her hands trembling. She took a step back, face pale, lips parted in fear. Her eyes were wide, glassy with unshed tears.

"Damn it. A gun again?" Jordan muttered, arriving beside Ethan, frustration crackling in his voice.

Jessica rushed to her mother's side, shielding her as best she could. "Mom! Who are these people?!"

The man with the gun stepped forward, a thin grin spreading across his face. He looked at Jessica, head tilted like she was some rare find.

"Well, well," he drawled, mocking. "Is this Jessica Moore? I never imagined Joseph Moore had such a beautiful daughter."

Jessica blinked, confused. "My dad? What does he have to do with this?"

But the man wasn't interested in answers.

"If I'd known Joseph had a daughter like you, he could've just handed you over to pay off his debt," the man sneered, eyes crawling. "Of course... with your body."

His voice was sleazy, and the others laughed behind him, their laughter rough and ugly.

But he didn't get another word in.

Because in the next instant, Ethan moved.

No warning. No hesitation.

He was in front of the man like a shadow had leaped from the hallway.

Ethan grabbed the man's wrist with deadly precision, twisting it sharply, forcing the barrel of the gun up, pressing it hard beneath the man's own chin.

His voice dropped into something cold, dangerous.

"Say that again," Ethan said, every syllable like steel. "And I'll kill you right here."

The grip on the man's wrist tightened, and even the laughter behind him died instantly.

Jessica froze.

Mark stood silently at the back, but his eyes narrowed slightly. That movement, and that precision.

'He's fast,' Jordan thought, stunned. 'Faster than me?'

Yesterday, Ethan had shown off sharpshooting skills like a trained marksman.

Today? He moved like a ghost. He was calculated, precise, and terrifying.

Jordan glanced sideways at him. What else is this guy hiding?

Mark, meanwhile, was observing like a silent scribe. Ethan's form, his grip, the way he redirected the weapon, none of it was amateur.

'This wasn't just instinct,' Mark thought. 'Seems like he was trained in this.'

To him, Ethan didn't just move like a fighter.

He moved like a Master.

The man with the gun winced but didn't lose his composure. Behind him, the three with baseball bats tensed, ready to act, but the leader raised his free hand, signaling them to stay back.

The leader sneered, his expression defiant despite the situation. "Who the hell are you? And what makes you think you can get in the way? It's up to me how I want to settle this debt."

He then looked straight at Ethan's eyes and said, "It's none of your business."

Ethan's eyes narrowed. "What debt? How much?"

The man's grin widened, his gaze gleaming with malice. "Why? Do you want to pay the million dollars Joseph owes me?"

Julie gasped audibly, her voice trembling. "What do you mean? You said Joseph only owed you half a million!"

The man laughed cruelly. "Oh, that's what Joseph owes me, all right. But the other half a million? That's what this brat owes me, for trying to attack me."

He threw his head back and laughed like a maniac, the sound grating and filled with malice.

Mark and Jordan exchanged glances, their bodies tensed, ready to leap into action. Both were prepared to take on the three bat-wielding thugs if Ethan gave the word.

But Ethan didn't move a muscle. Instead, his grip on the leader's wrist tightened ever so slightly. His expression was icy, calm, and calculating.

He couldn't risk escalating things with the Moores standing just behind him.

There was an elderly man with a heart condition, two young boys, and a terrified mother.

Jessica, too, stood frozen, her face pale but resolute.

Ethan was thinking hard about what he should do next. A show of violence here might protect them momentarily but could also make things far worse later.

"You said a million, right?" Ethan's tone was low, steady, and chilling.

The leader grinned. "Yeah. Do you have it?"

"Fine. Give me a location, and I'll bring it to you in two hours. I need to contact my family for the money."

"Are you kidding, kid?" The leader's cruel grin faltered slightly, his brow furrowing in disbelief. "Who are you?"

"You don't deserve to know." Ethan didn't blink. "A million. Cash. But I'll need time to get it together."

Julie gasped behind him. "Ethan, no—"
Ethan raised a hand without looking back, silencing her. His gaze remained locked on the man in front of him.

For a moment, the leader hesitated as if trying to decide whether Ethan was bluffing. He then looked at Mark and Jordan. The two of them were ready to take on his men.

Then his grin returned, broader and greedier than ever.

"Smart choice, rich boy," the leader sneered.

"Here's the deal. Two hours. Don't make me wait. If you do…" His grin turned darker as he gestured toward the house with a jerk of his chin. "I'll come back, and when I do, there won't be a house, or a family, left to save."

Jessica stiffened, and Harold's grip on his chair tightened. Josh and Joshua exchanged worried glances, their youthful bravado slipping away.

"Threats don't work on me," Ethan's voice cut through the tension. "Just tell me where to go."

The leader nodded toward his group, signaling them to back off. "Meet me at the old scrapyard on Millers Lane. You know it?"

Ethan nodded curtly, his expression unreadable.

The group began to walk away, but the leader paused when they reached Ethan's car. His eyes glinted as he ran a hand over the glossy finish.

"This your car?"

Ethan didn't respond, his jaw tightening.

The leader laughed and turned back to his men. "Nice ride. If you're playing games, rich boy, I'll take this car, burn the house, and take the girl. Got it?"

Ethan remained silent, his expression unflinching.

Satisfied with his threat, the leader gestured to one of his lackeys. "Hey, show this kid what happens if he tries to mess with me. Hit the car."

The thug hesitated, glancing nervously at the sleek vehicle. "Boss, this thing looks expensive…"

The leader scowled. "I said hit it!"

Swallowing hard, the thug gripped his bat and swung it at the side of the car.

CLANG!

A loud, metallic reverberation filled the air as the bat ricocheted off the car's surface, sending the thug stumbling backward.

"Ahhh!" the man yelled, dropping the bat and clutching his hands. "My hands! What the hell is this thing made of?!"

Jordan couldn't help himself. "What's the matter, buddy? Did the big bad car hurt you?" he quipped, smirking.

Even Mark let out a rare chuckle. "Guess you need to hit the gym," he muttered under his breath.

The leader frowned, looking between the car and his lackey, whose fingers were already swelling.

"What the hell…" he muttered, stepping closer to inspect the vehicle.

Ethan finally spoke, his tone dripping with mockery. "Oh, did I forget to mention? It's reinforced steel. Custom-built. You'd need a wrecking ball to even scratch it."

The leader's scowl deepened, but he didn't press the issue. Instead, he waved his men forward. "Let's go. Two hours, rich boy. Don't be late."

The group retreated down the driveway, their presence like a storm cloud slowly dissipating.

Once they were out of sight, Jessica turned to Ethan, her voice shaking.

"What are you doing? You can't pay them a million dollars!"

Ethan exhaled slowly, his gaze still fixed on the retreating figures. "Don't worry. I'm not planning to."

Jordan grinned. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

Mark nodded, his expression serious. "What's the plan, Ethan?"

Ethan's lips curved into a faint, confident smile. "We've got two hours to figure it out. And trust me, they're not leaving that scrapyard with a single cent."