The young men pulled on masks resembling yellow smiley faces. One was designated the Camera Man and wore a go-pro on the side of his mask, which livestreamed their night on a private forum. They piled into a van and drove through the streets of New York until they came upon two women walking along the sidewalk. Once they found their prey, they leapt out of the van’s side hatch with batons, bike locks and other blunt objects and began chasing them.

Michael Hawkwood perched on a rooftop, wearing the Cavalier armor. He hadn’t quite worked up the courage to take the Dragon or Knight-cycle from his father’s Castle (mostly because he hadn’t told his father what he was doing yet) but he still had his father’s old grappling hook gun. Arthur wanted to get rid of the gun after suffering an injury but Michael knew it worked perfectly fine and since it was built by Rex Robinson, he knew it couldn’t be cast aside so casually. He kept it in his closet for general safekeeping and was now grateful he had done so. Keeping the Medieval knight motif, the grappling hook gun resembled a crossbow with an arrow-shaped hook and a reel mechanism hidden inside the stock.

Michael had been watching the Laughing Boys’ pursuit on his helmet’s HUD and knew they were coming so he stood up and took aim. The hook shot out with a press of the trigger, a nylon chord following its trajectory. It stabbed into the granite wall of the building across the street and Michael had already grounded the other end of the chord into the rooftop. He held onto the “crossbow” limbs and kicked off the ledge, riding the gun like a zip-line. Below, the two girls ran under the chord with the Laughing Boys following close behind. Michael zipped down just in time, landing into the side of one assailant with enough force to throw him against the wall.

The rest of the gang stopped dead in their tracks as Michael pressed a button on the grappling hook gun, reeling both ends of the chord into the stock. He said nothing but instead, slung the gun on his back and prepared for a fight which didn’t come as they turned and ran. He pursued, the hunters now having been turned to prey. He raised his fist and fired a shield-disc that struck one in the back of the head, which sent him to the ground. As he got closer, he shot the back of a knee, dropping another one and ensuring he wouldn’t be running or even stand for sometime. The group turned into an alley but soon found that there was a wall blocking off the other end. With nowhere to run, they turned and faced the Cavalier who was silently standing at the other entrance of the alley.

Michael raised the flared part of his gauntlet which blocked a swinging tire iron. He followed it up with a right hook that he was sure broke the man’s jaw despite the mask he was wearing. Then he ducked under the next attack and tackled the assailant at the waist before igniting his glove’s tasers. He sent several volts into him, which removed another player from the board. A larger Laughing Boy came at Michael from behind but he swung around into a backfist that was wild but effective as it hit its mark. The next opponent got a kick to the chest, followed by a roundhouse that took him to the alley floor.

With that, all the Laughing Boys were unconscious or wracked with pain, save for the Camera Man. “Look who’s out here simp’n,” the Camera Man said to his online audience, “It’s the Cavalier!” The Camera Man pulled a pocket knife out and waved it at Michael who scoffed before pulling his broadsword. Michael let the street light catch the blade before placing the tip on the ground, “Mine’s bigger.” The Camera Man wisely dropped his knife.

Not long after that, Commissioner Reins arrives with several officers who arrested the Laughing Boys.

“These assholes were bold enough when they were just making misogynistic and bigoted creeds online,” Reins said as he lit his cigarette, “Now they’re wearing masks and attacking women on the street. The Laughing Boys have gone from online trolls to a hate group. It’s the sixth case this week.”

“At least they’re dumb enough to livestream their attacks,” Michael explained, “It makes it easy to track them down once you find a site they frequent.”

“We’re lucky to have you on the team, Cav,” Reins gave him a pat on the back, “Glad you decided to take the job permanently.”

“I am too,” he admitted, “No more hemming and hawing.”

The next day, Michael packed his fighting gi into his duffle bag. He had been taking classes at a jeet kune do dojo near his apartment. It was a good way to stay sharp. During his sparring match, he caught the eye of another student by the name of Terry. Terry was a handsome, young man with a pride flag on his bag, indicating they could be compatible.

“You looked good out there,” Michael told him.

“Thanks,” Terry smiled meekly, “I mean, I got thrown on my ass but it’s nice that you’re trying to flatter me.”

“I’d call it boosting confidence.”

He laughed, “You might have to try harder if you want me to feel more confident.”

“Yeah, I admit, I’m not good at flirting.”

Terry got a surprised look, “Oh, is that… I-I mean,…”

Michael began stammering as well, “Oh, I was but… I’m bi and I just saw the pride flag…”

“Right…”

“…If you’re just an ally and not…”

“Uh,… No, I’m in the community. I’m pan.”

“But you’re seeing someone. I get it.”

“I’m not,” he smiled, “… seeing anyone right now.”

“Great, so uh,” Michael brushed his hair back, “We’ve already established I’m not good at flirting so now we can establish that I’m not good at asking someone out.”

“At least you’re good at fighting.”

“Damn, is that where I’m at? Bad at social interactions but good at kicking people?”

Terry laughed, “I didn’t mean it that way. Look, I would like to go on a date.”

“Okay, great. Saturday at 7pm?”

“Sure,” Terry gave him a smile.

They exchanged phone numbers and Michael sighed to himself. A moment later, his phone rang and he noticed it was Arthur.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, Mike. I saw something on the news that caught my eye. The Cavalier has been kicking some ass lately. He took out some goons on the internet from the looks of it.”

Michael braced himself for an uncomfortable conversation. He knew he would have to tell his father he decided to take up the Cavalier mantle full time but wasn’t sure when or how to broach the subject. He mentally kicked himself for not realizing his actions against the Laughing Boys would make the news eventually.

“I was gonna tell ya, Dad.”

“I’m sure but you probably didn’t know how, right?”

“Yeah.”

“When you hung out with Rex Robinson for a few days, I shoulda known that guy would’ve convinced you the Cavalier had to stick around, even if I retired.”

“He did.”

“… And that’s why he had you hand the armor over to some new guy.”

“Uh…”

“I mean, you obviously weren’t gonna start wearing it but the title is important to the city. Rex probably mentored some other guy and let you in on it. And Rex made that version, so it’s his as far as I’m concerned.”

“W-well,… the suit is being used. That’s correct.”

“I’m fine with it, Mike. I really am so you and Rex don’t need to worry about me. You were right and I should’ve retired a long time ago. Let some new kid have some fun, right?”

“Uh…,” Michael walked out of the dojo and into a busy sidewalk, which meant the conversation couldn’t go into too much depth, “It’s a bit more complicated than that, Dad. I’m on the street right now, but we should sit down and discuss it soon.”

“Sure thing. Love ya, Mike.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

They hung up. Michael ran his hand through his hair again, “Damn.”

Across the city, a young Dominican woman picked up a facial tissue as a tear ran down her swollen eye. She wiped it, making sure not to aggravate the cuts and bruises on her face. “The cops said they couldn’t find them,” she said in Spanish, “… because of those stupid masks.” She sniffed and clutched the tissue in her hand angrily, “Those goddamn masks with the smiling faces. The bastards enjoyed what they did to me.”

A man sat down on the couch next to her while a few more remained standing in her apartment. “We will make sure those people are off the streets,” he told her in Spanish, “And by that, I don’t mean we’ll just beat them up a little bit. We’re sure as shit not going to work with the cops. When I say we’ll take them off the streets, we’ll kill every last son of a bitch who has anything to do with the Laughing Boys or anyone else who try to hurt people like you.”

The woman sniffed again, “I honestly didn’t expect this kind of help from your people… I was always told people from your country keep to themselves.”

“My people can be a little too proud, it’s true. But we won’t sit by and let injustice continue,” the man known only as Mano rose to his feet, “That is the way of Costa Triste.”