Carlo caught one of the oranges, he began to peel it with a deft flick of his fingers. An attacker, emboldened by the apparent distraction, charged at him with a determined yell. Carlo, unfazed, squeezed the orange peel just as the attacker got close, sending a fine mist of citrus juice spraying directly into the man’s eyes.
The attacker halted abruptly, his face contorting in surprise and discomfort. He blinked rapidly, his eyes watering as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. “Ahhh!” he finally exclaimed, stumbling backward and rubbing his eyes furiously. His exaggerated reaction, complete with a comical dance of pain, drew laughter from Carlo.
“Looks like he wasn’t ready for a citrus surprise,” Carlo chuckled, tossing the now-empty peel aside.
Meanwhile, Marco was engaged in his own playful skirmish. Spotting an attacker approaching with a dagger, Marco quickly grabbed a pear and an apple from the table. With a swift underhand throw, he sent the fruits sailing through the air toward the attacker.
The attacker, in a reflexive move, swung his dagger to deflect the incoming projectiles. To his surprise, the blade skewered both the pear and the apple, leaving him holding a makeshift fruit kebab. He stared at the impaled fruits in bewilderment, momentarily forgetting his original intent.
“Nice aim!” Marco called out, applauding the attacker’s unintended culinary creation. “You might have a future as a chef.”
“Really?” the attacker asked, his eyes wide with surprise.
Marco nodded confidently. “I’m sure of it,” he replied with a grin.
The attacker’s face lit up with newfound inspiration. “Thank you!” he exclaimed, dropping his dagger. “I’m going to be a chef!” With that, he turned and sprinted out of the villa, leaving everyone momentarily stunned.
Mr. Duran, witnessing the bizarre turn of events, slapped his forehead in disbelief. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, his frustration mounting. Marco, catching Mr. Duran’s reaction, couldn’t help but laugh, adding a teasing remark. “Looks like you’re losing your best talent, Mr. Duran.”
The battle continued, and one attacker, in his eagerness, nearly drove his dagger into the plush fabric of the sofa. “Stop!” Mr. Duran shouted, his voice filled with panic. “Don’t damage my favorite sofa!”
The attacker hesitated, glancing back at Mr. Duran before resuming his assault on Marco. Marco and Carlo exchanged a knowing look, a plan forming between them without a word.
Using the sofa as a makeshift shield, Marco and Carlo maneuvered around it, drawing the attackers’ strikes toward the furniture. Each time a dagger came perilously close to piercing the sofa, Mr. Duran’s voice rang out in alarm.
“Watch it!” he yelled, his eyes wide with fear as a blade narrowly missed the armrest. “Careful with the upholstery!”
Another attacker lunged, and the dagger’s tip grazed the sofa’s edge. “No, not the cushions!” Mr. Duran cried, his expression a mix of horror and desperation.
Marco and Carlo, finding amusement in Mr. Duran’s distress, continued to use the sofa as their shield. They deftly dodged and redirected attacks, ensuring the sofa bore the brunt of the assault. Each near miss elicited a fresh outburst from Mr. Duran.
“That’s antique fabric!” he wailed as another dagger came close to the sofa’s back. “Do you have any idea how much that costs?”
The attackers, confused by the unexpected focus on the sofa, hesitated with each strike, unsure whether to continue. Marco and Carlo, meanwhile, couldn’t suppress their laughter, their amusement growing with each of Mr. Duran’s frantic reactions
Feeling a bit bored with their playful antics around the sofa, Marco and Carlo decided it was time to wrap things up. They exchanged a glance, and with a synchronized stretch, Carlo announced, “Warm-up’s over.”
Marco and Carlo sprang into action, their movements a blur of precision and speed. The attackers, still armed with daggers, found themselves facing a completely different challenge as the duo shifted from playful evasion to calculated offense.
Marco moved first, his body a fluid extension of his intent. He sidestepped an incoming dagger thrust, his hand darting out to tap the attacker’s wrist with pinpoint accuracy. The attacker, caught off guard, felt a sudden numbness spread through his arm, causing him to drop the dagger. Before he could react, Marco delivered a swift, controlled strike to the side of his neck, sending him crumpling to the floor in a deep, peaceful slumber.
Carlo, meanwhile, faced two attackers at once. As one lunged at him, Carlo pivoted gracefully, allowing the attacker’s momentum to carry him forward. With a deft twist, Carlo caught the man’s arm, using it to flip him over his shoulder. The attacker landed with a soft thud, unconscious before he hit the ground.
The second attacker hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. Carlo seized the moment, closing the distance with a series of quick, precise steps. He feinted to the left, drawing the attacker’s guard, then slipped to the right, delivering a gentle but effective chop to the base of the man’s neck. The attacker swayed for a moment before collapsing, joining his comrade in slumber.
Marco, now facing another opponent, ducked under a wild swing, his movements smooth and unhurried. He stepped inside the attacker’s reach, delivering a rapid series of strikes to pressure points along the man’s arm and torso. The attacker blinked in confusion, his body suddenly unresponsive, before slumping to the floor, fast asleep.
Carlo, having dispatched his own opponents, turned to assist Marco. Together, they moved in perfect harmony, their actions a seamless dance of efficiency and skill. Each attacker fell with minimal effort, their daggers clattering harmlessly to the ground as they succumbed to the duo’s precise techniques.
As the last attacker slumped to the floor, Marco and Carlo stood amidst the quiet room, surveying their handiwork. The once chaotic scene had transformed into a tableau of peaceful slumber, with the attackers sprawled out, their daggers scattered around them.
Carlo dusted off his hands and turned to Marco with a satisfied grin. “Well, that was a nice change of pace,” he remarked, his tone light and casual.
Marco nodded, stretching his arms as if he had just finished a light workout. “Yeah, it’s good to get the blood pumping every now and then,” he replied, glancing around at the sleeping attackers. “I think they’ll have a nice nap.”
Mr. Duran, still seated on the sofa, finally found his voice. “What… what just happened?” he stammered, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Carlo chuckled, gesturing to the unconscious men. “Just a little demonstration of what happens when you underestimate us,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Marco added, “We tried to keep it entertaining, but sometimes you just have to get things done.”
Mr. Duran, unable to contain his disbelief, shouted, “What just happened here?” His eyes darted around the room, finally landing on the leader of his guards, who stood beside him, looking pale and shaken.
“Why didn’t you tell me they were this skilled?” Mr. Duran demanded, his voice tinged with frustration.
The guard wiped the sweat from his brow, his voice trembling as he replied, “I thought they could handle these two, so I didn’t think it was necessary to mention it.”
Mr. Duran’s face darkened with frustration, realizing he had underestimated the situation. He hadn’t anticipated such a turn of events, and now he was left grappling with the consequences.
Carlo, observing the exchange, grinned and said, “Looks like you don’t have much choice but to surrender peacefully.”
“What do you mean?” Mr. Duran asked, his voice edged with defiance.
Carlo’s smile widened as Marco stepped forward, delivering a light chop to Mr. Duran’s neck. The move was swift and precise, and Mr. Duran’s eyes fluttered closed as he slumped back onto the sofa, fast asleep.
“There you go, peacefully sleeping like a baby,” Carlo quipped with a chuckle.
Marco turned to the guard, who was now visibly trembling. “Get some rope and tie him up,” Marco instructed calmly.
The guard, too frightened to protest, nodded quickly and hurried to comply with Marco’s order. Within moments, he returned with rope and began securing Mr. Duran, his hands shaking slightly as he worked.
Carlo watched the scene unfold, his demeanor relaxed and confident. “Well, that wraps things up nicely,” he remarked, glancing at Marco with a satisfied nod.