Mr. Duran clapped his hands, and suddenly, countless armed men wielding daggers emerged from the shadows, surrounding Marco and Carlo.
“Welcome to your grave,” Mr. Duran sneered, his voice dripping with malice. “This is where you’ll be buried.”
Marco, unfazed, reached for another grape, popping it into his mouth. “You know, Carlo, I was hoping for some entertainment today. I just didn’t expect it to be this kind of show.”
Carlo nodded, taking another bite of his banana. “Exactly. I hope these guys can keep us awake. I’d hate to fall asleep during such an important performance.”
Mr. Duran laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. “Even on the brink of death, you’re still arrogant? Don’t worry, you won’t just be sleepy-you’ll be breathless soon enough!”
With a swift gesture, Mr. Duran signaled his men to attack. Mr. Duran’s men charged forward, the first five attackers closed in on Marco and Carlo with daggers poised to strike. The room buzzed with tension, but Marco and Carlo remained remarkably calm, their movements fluid and unhurried.
Marco casually sidestepped the first attack, reaching for a cluster of grapes on the table. As he plucked a grape and popped it into his mouth, he leaned back just in time to avoid a dagger swipe aimed at his midsection. “You know, Carlo,” he said, chewing thoughtfully, “these grapes are surprisingly good. I might have to take some home.”
Carlo, meanwhile, was dealing with his own set of attackers. He ducked under a wild swing, using the momentum to roll over the back of the sofa. As he landed on his feet, he peeled his banana with one hand, tossing the peel over his shoulder. The peel landed squarely on the face of an approaching attacker, causing the man to stumble backward, momentarily blinded.
“Careful there,” Carlo quipped, taking a bite of his banana. “Wouldn’t want you to slip up.”
Marco, now facing two attackers, casually leaned against the arm of the sofa, using it as leverage to flip over an incoming dagger thrust. As he landed, he grabbed another grape, tossing it into the air and catching it with his mouth. “Mr. Duran,” he called out, his voice light and teasing, “is this really the best you’ve got? I was expecting a bit more of a challenge.”
One of the attackers lunged at Carlo, who deftly sidestepped, using the man’s momentum to guide him into a nearby chair. Carlo took another bite of his banana, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “You might want to consider hiring better help, Mr. Duran. These guys are a bit… underwhelming.”
Marco, now facing a particularly aggressive attacker, ducked under a high slash, using the opportunity to grab a handful of grapes. He tossed them one by one at the attacker, each grape hitting with surprising accuracy and causing the man to flinch and lose focus.
“Fruit fight!” Marco joked, grinning as he continued to dodge and weave through the attacks.
Carlo, having finished his banana, casually tossed the remaining peel onto the floor. Another attacker, charging at him, slipped on the peel and crashed into a side table, sending a vase tumbling to the ground.
“Oops,” Carlo said with a shrug, glancing at Mr. Duran. “Looks like your men are having a bit of a rough day.”
More attackers joined the fray, their numbers swelling as they surrounded Marco and Carlo. Yet, the duo remained unfazed, their movements as casual and fluid as ever.
Marco, with his back turned to an approaching attacker, seemed to sense the danger without looking. He casually leaned to the side, allowing the attacker’s dagger to slice through the air where he had just been standing. With a swift motion, Marco grabbed a nearby apple, tossing it over his shoulder. The apple struck the attacker squarely on the forehead, causing him to stagger back in surprise.
“Nice catch,” Marco quipped, turning to face another opponent with a grin.
Carlo, meanwhile, was engaged with two attackers at once. He ducked under a simultaneous strike, using the momentum to spin around and deliver a playful tap on one attacker’s shoulder. The man, caught off guard, stumbled forward, colliding with his comrade.
“Watch your step,” Carlo advised, his tone light and teasing.
Mr. Duran watched the scene unfold, his initial disbelief giving way to a grudging admiration for their skill. However, he quickly reminded himself of the sheer number of men at his disposal. Regaining his composure, he called out to Marco and Carlo, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“You two are quite the performers,” Mr. Duran remarked, crossing his arms. “But surely you realize that this little show can’t last forever. My men will eventually overwhelm you.”
Marco, now balancing on the arm of the sofa, caught a dagger mid-air that had been thrown his way. He examined it briefly before tossing it aside, his expression nonchalant. “You might be right, Mr. Duran. But for now, we’re just getting warmed up.”
Carlo, sidestepping another attack, picked up a pear from the table and took a bite. “Besides,” he added, gesturing with the fruit, “we’re having too much fun to stop now.”
Another attacker lunged at Carlo with a fierce battle cry, Carlo deftly sidestepped and, with a mischievous grin, held out a shiny red apple. The attacker, caught off guard by the unexpected offering, instinctively opened his mouth wide, as if to shout again. Carlo seized the moment, popping the entire apple into the man’s mouth, effectively silencing him.
“An apple a day keeps the doctor away,” Carlo quipped, patting the bewildered attacker on the back as he stumbled away, trying to dislodge the fruit.
Meanwhile, Marco was engaged with two attackers who seemed determined to corner him. With a quick glance, he spotted a bowl of cherries on the table. As one attacker swung his dagger, Marco ducked and grabbed a handful of cherries, tossing them into the air. The cherries rained down on the attackers, causing them to slip and slide comically across the polished floor.
“Cherry on top,” Marco chuckled, watching as the attackers struggled to regain their footing.
Mr. Duran, who’s seated on the sofa, observed the spectacle with a mix of disbelief and reluctant amusement. He couldn’t help but notice how Marco and Carlo seemed to be making a game out of the situation, using his own fruit supply as their arsenal. Every now and then, he glanced at the diminishing fruit bowl, a bemused expression on his face.
Marco, noticing Mr. Duran’s gaze, picked up a bunch of grapes and tossed one into the air, catching it effortlessly in his mouth. “Hope you don’t mind us sampling your fruit, Mr. Duran. It’s quite the spread you’ve got here.”
Carlo, now juggling a few oranges, added with a grin, “Yeah, we might just have to come back for seconds.”