Paul Kwon, Commissioner Reins and the Cavalier stood in the underground garage under the police department. Paul contacted them after the confrontation at the church soup kitchen and they agreed to meet later that day.

“… The guy said his name was Mano,” Paul said as he finished catching them up.

“From the description, it sounds like it could’ve been the guy I fought at Big Fun’s mansion,” Cavalier explained, “I never got his name.”

“Whoever he is, he’s poaching my students.”

“We’re gonna show him and everyone else your way works,” Reins assured him.

“I’d like to believe you but pointing out that he’s a killer didn’t help, nor the fact that he’s dealing with gangstas.  He twisted everything I said back on me.”

“If we find out where he’s hiding,” Cavalier began, “We can bring him down.  There’s been more than enough evidence against the guy that all it should take is tracking him down and handing him over.”

“These people are good at not getting caught,” Reins explained.

Cavalier turned back to Paul, “Come on, Mr. Kwon, you’ve been dealing with this sort of thing for decades. You have to have some insight.”

“Like the Commissioner said, they’re good at not getting caught,” Paul said defeatedly, “They’re also good at tracking their targets. They knew where we would be. That’s also how DJ got killed since they knew where the Laughing Boys would be. They…,” he trailed off and then a curious smile spread across his face, “… They knew where the Laughing Boys would be.”

“Are you okay, Mr. Kwon?,” Cavalier asked.

“You found an internet forum that the Laughing Boys frequented and that’s how you managed to know about many of their attacks, right?”

“Right.”

“That’s probably how Mano and his men knew where they would be. And I know of a few forums DJ used to go to.  We can create accounts on those forums and pose as Laughing Boys.  We set up a time and place to have one of those `Laugh Riots’ and the Costa Tristans will hopefully show up.”

“Not a bad plan,” Michael admitted, “Laughing Boy activity has been down so there’s less of a chance any of the real ones will show up.”

“And really, Mano and his goons will welcome any activity from the Laughing Boys,” Reins added, “They need them act’n up so they can look good and continue cutting out a piece of the pie. If they hear about a ‘Laugh Riot’, they’ll show up. They can’t afford not to.”

They went to work that night, making fake accounts and discussing a Laugh Riot held at an old movie theater that was getting condemned by the city. The story went that the Laughing Boys had kidnapped a young woman and were going to stream her murder. There was a call for an audience. The sock accounts, of course, agreed and they were relieved to see there weren’t any interested parties from the Laughing Boy community, which implied that, at the very least, they were laying low. Now, all they had to do was wait.

On Monday, Michael arrived at the dojo but didn’t see Terry, so he shot him a text, telling him he had a great time on their date. He didn’t expect to hear back as it was painfully uneventful. Perhaps he was wasting time going on dates. Maybe he needed to try to make friends first. It was around that time that his father called, “Hey Mike, guess what, I’m enjoying retirement finally.”

“That’s good to hear, Dad.”

“I went online to see what kind of hobbies old farts like me can do and I found pickle ball.”

“Pickle ball?”

“Yeah, it’s like a low-cardio version of tennis. I joined a retirement club. It’s great and I’m playing with a great bunch of folks.”

“That’s great, Dad,” Michael wanted to tell his father he was acting as the Cavalier but was having trouble finding the right time to tell him. Arthur was in a good mood and he didn’t want to upset that. After all, Michael fought tooth and nail to get his father to retire to begin with, “I’m glad you’re enjoying the quiet life,” he continued, silently hoping his father wouldn’t ask about his date.

“How was your date?”

“I’m pretty sure I struck out.”

“Eh, his loss.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t talk long, I have to meet a few friends, but how about grabbing lunch next Saturday?”

“Next Saturday, my friend George is having his seventieth birthday. George is in my pickle ball club.”

“Okay, so rain check?”

“Sure. Love ya.”

Michael was happy that he could at least get the opportunity to talk to his father about the Cavalier at a later date, although he hated lying to him. What’s more, he questioned how his elderly father had a more active social life than him.

That night, Mano and his crew marched through a dark street toward the old movie theater, sneaking their way through the chain link fence. Once inside the building, they made their way through the empty and dirty lobby with their flashlights on. “Where the hell are they?,” one of his men asked. “Keep your eyes open,” Mano told him as he led them through the double door into the auditorium. They made their way down an aisle, past rows of seats, occasionally shining their flashlights at the balcony above them. They approached the stage which was covered by an old, ratty red curtain. As they cleared the front row of seats, the lights suddenly came on and the curtain was pulled back, revealing Paul, Emily and David along with other adult members of the Metro Knights.

“You wanted a fight, now you got one,” Paul told Mano and before he could respond, Reins and other police officers rushed in from the lobby doors, “Police! Freeze!”. Mano pulled the gun from the holster under his jacket, forcing the Metro Knights to duck down as he let off a few warning shots, then he raced toward a door leading up the stairs. Meanwhile, his crew was rounded up by the officers and Knights. Mano emerged on the second floor hallway, near the entrance to the balcony. Once there, he found the Cavalier waiting.

“Nice to see you again, Mano,” Michael told him mockingly, “Yeah, I know your name now. The way things are going, I might even get to meet your boss someday.”

“I hope you learned how to fight since the last time we met,” Mano said with a smirk as he took twin brass knuckles from his jacket and began putting them on, “Because I’m certainly ready for you.”

Michael rushed forward, throwing two punches which Mano blocked, then he delivered a one-two combination into his helmet, the brass knuckles protecting his hands as he struck the armor. Michael deflected the next kick, then delivered a left hook. Mano distanced himself and poked his bloody lip with the tip of his tongue, “Ah, first blood. You have gotten better.” Mano leapt forward with a flying kick that rolled Michael onto his back. He sat up and gave Mano a kick to the stomach and stood up, making another attempt at a punch but Mano caught his arm and flipped him over his shoulder, then gave him a kick to the face. “… But you still need more practice,” he said and stepped back as Michael popped back onto his feet. Mano took a stance, not noticing the figure emerging from the stairs until he felt a hard kick to his ribs. Mano was pushed through the doors leading to the balcony and tumbled down a few carpeted stairs. When he stood up, he saw Paul Kwon alongside Cavalier.

“That’s what an old man can do,” Paul told him.

“Didn’t account for that, did ya?,” Michael asked.

“At least one of you isn’t bulletproof,” Mano brought his gun out again but Michael shot a shield-disc into his shoulder, forcing him to drop his weapon. This allowed Paul to race down the stairs to confront him. Mano blocked the initial kick and ducked under the next punch, then came back up with a shot to Paul’s jugular. Paul coughed and clutched his throat as Mano smirked, “A long time ago, this could have been a competitive fight.” Paul responded with a kick to Mano’s chest, pushing him against the balcony ledge. Michael finally removed the grappling hook gun from the back of his belt and fired the line. The “arrow” stabbed into the balcony ledge, inches from Mano who looked at it curiously, then back at Michael who reeled himself in. With a press of the trigger, he flew down the line, over the steps and collided into Mano; they both went over the balcony and dropped several feet. Soon, Mano hit the carpeted floor below and Michael flattened a seat as he hit the ground.

“You alright, Cav?,” Reins asked as he rushed to his side.

“The armor held up,” Michael said as he rose to his feet, then he looked down at the unconscious Mano, “We finally got ‘im.”

Days later, students returned to the YMCA to be taught by the Metro Knights. And while Yolanda showed up and gave David an apologetic hug, there were still a few students who were disenfranchised by the Knights’ way of protecting the streets. Even if the Costa Tristens were arrested, they didn’t change their minds as to whether or not they were right. Paul was sure they would come around eventually, however.

Michael, meanwhile, perched on a rooftop, listening to a police scanner through his helmet, which was soon interrupted by a call from Commissioner Reins. “Are you sitting down, Cav?,” he asked.

“What now?,” Michael asked.

“Mano and all his goons? Turns out, they’re wanted back in Costa Triste by the authorities there and asked the US government to expedite them back to their home country. We’re gonna have to send them on a plane back home.”

“So Nadie is pulling strings?”

“More than likely.”

“I’m… okay with it.”

“Really?”

“Nadie has made two attempts to move into this city. He’ll make another and that means we’ll get another chance to end this once and for all. I’m willing to keep this up until I see that old bastard face-to-face.”

In Costa Triste, Mano pushed Nadie’s wheelchair through the halls of his private villa, their next plot having already been put into motion.