The screams intensified, followed by the distinct sound of bodies hitting the floor. Julian's expression hardened as he recognized the voices of his disciples.
"That's coming from the main dojo," he said grimly, his newly enhanced senses picking up details the others missed. "Someone is attacking my students."
We rushed outside to find chaos in the training hall. Three of Julian's disciples lay crumpled on the wooden floor, clutching their arms and ribs. Blood trickled from their mouths as they struggled to stand.
"Master Cross!" One of them gasped. "They came without warning. Said they were here to settle old scores."
Standing in the center of the dojo was a group of five men wearing matching black uniforms with red trim. Their leader, a stocky man with cold eyes and scarred knuckles, sneered at the injured disciples.
"Kenji Tanaka," Julian growled, his aura flaring with barely contained rage. "I should have known you'd show your face again."
