Marvel Zodiac knight

As the trio approached the entrance of the bar, an elderly man with a shock of white hair suddenly stepped in their way, halting their plans.

"Hey there, what are you kids doing here? Get home and get to bed," he barked, his voice firm and commanding.

"Or I'll have to tell your mother, Hana," he added, casting a pointed look at James before striding into the club behind them.

James pursed his lips, muttering under his breath, "If Grand knew you were out playing DJ at night, she'd be furious."

The appearance of the white-haired man dashed their hopes of a night out before it even began. He was courteous but unyielding, asserting that they were not welcome and instructing the doorman to keep an eye out for them in the other bars along the street. Anyone who dared to let them in, he promised, would face dire consequences.

Thompson's disappointment was palpable as they wandered from bar to bar, only to be turned away at each one.

"Who is that old man? Why is he so intimidating?" Thompson asked, his curiosity piqued as he recalled the man's authority.

James sighed. "That's Willie Rankin. He's an old friend of the orphanage director."

With their plans thwarted, the trio began their walk home, the mood somber.

"I'm leaving in two weeks," Thompson said, kicking a can down the street. "I wanted to have some fun with you guys before I go, but I guess that's not happening."

Parker clapped him on the shoulder. "You're just going to be a soldier; the rest is life and death."

James added with a smirk, "Just don't come back after a few years and try to marry Barbara; you won't be able to handle the consequences."

"Hey!" Thompson stomped his foot, sending the can flying toward a nearby van, where it crashed against the door with a loud clang.

"What the—?" A startled voice came from inside the van.

The trio paused, eyes wide. They could see the vehicle sway slightly, and a muffled scream echoed from within.

Something wasn't right.

As an experienced driver, James sensed that the disturbance was no ordinary shake; the rhythm was erratic. Curiosity piqued, they approached the van cautiously.

Before they could get close, the passenger door swung open, and a stout man stumbled out, his face twisted in anger.

"You punks think you can damage my car and get away with it? Get lost!" he shouted, his voice booming and threatening.

Thompson instinctively took a step back. He caught sight of a figure in the driver's seat and realized they were in over their heads. These guys looked like trouble, and it was best to steer clear.

James and Peter exchanged glances, hearing a woman's muffled sobs mixed with the man's low, threatening voice from inside the vehicle. They nodded at each other, instinctively deciding to back off.

As they turned to leave, Thompson sighed in relief. "I didn't realize there were people in that car. We got lucky; they seemed busy and didn't notice us."

However, all three of them froze when they saw two men roughly pulling an unconscious woman from the back of the van.

"Is that… kidnapping?" Thompson gasped, his heart racing. For an ordinary high school student, witnessing such a thing was surreal.

James pointed toward the rooftop of a nearby building. "Peter, you're quick. Go up there. I'll chase them down. Don't lose sight of that van."

"Right!" Peter nodded, determination etched across his face. He sprang into action, leaping up the wall with remarkable agility and disappearing onto the rooftop.

"Wait! James, you can't just—" Thompson started, but James was already sprinting toward the alley.

"Thompson, you need to head home. Keep your phone on; we'll contact you later," James called back, not looking over his shoulder.

"James, I…," Thompson stammered, but it was too late. A gust of wind rushed past him as James vanished into the night.

Feeling both anxious and helpless, Thompson stood frozen for a moment. "Are you two even human?" he muttered under his breath.

Realizing he couldn't keep up with them, Thompson felt embarrassed about returning home empty-handed. After a moment of indecision, he turned back toward the strip club.

"I won't let you in; go home!" the bouncer shouted as Thompson approached.

"I need to see Willie Rankin," Thompson insisted, determination settling in.

Meanwhile, James was tearing through the alley, his heart pounding with adrenaline. He reached the street corner but lost sight of the van. Catching his breath, he pulled out his phone just as it buzzed. It was Peter.

"They're headed toward 19th Street! I'll keep you updated," Peter's voice crackled through the receiver.

James looked around, spotting Peter's skateboard nearby, a black shadow against the dimly lit alley. Knowing he had to act fast, he took off in the direction Peter had indicated, determined to catch up to the van and uncover the truth behind what he had just witnessed.