Chapter 12: Imprisonment
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This is a nightclub. In public places, causing a scene with violence might not be easily resolved.
Fighting is one thing, but causing serious harm is another.
"Bring it on!"
Hardy faced off against Big Ivan.
Big Ivan looked at the fallen companions around him—some wailing, others unconscious. He realized that Hardy was not someone to be taken lightly.
But Big Ivan was known for his ferocity, having fought countless battles since childhood. His anger fueled his actions.
"Ah!"
Big Ivan roared and swung his massive fist at Hardy.
Hardy dodged sideways.
*Bang!*
He landed a solid punch on Big Ivan's right rib, causing him to wince in pain.
"Good!"
The onlookers cheered, clearly entertained by the fight.
The two continued to battle.
Big Ivan was powerful, but Hardy was more focused. Hardy's punch to Big Ivan's face left him bruised and bleeding.
The fight resulted in numerous broken tables and spilled drinks.
*Boom!*
Hardy seized an opportunity, landing two punches to Big Ivan's chin, making him dizzy.
Big Ivan roared, arms outstretched, and charged at Hardy, intent on strangling him if he could catch him.
Hardy used a wrestling move to throw Big Ivan across the room.
*Boom!*
Big Ivan's massive frame crashed into the bar.
Hardy thought, "It's time to end this."
Before Big Ivan could recover, Hardy approached him calmly.
He grabbed a knife from a nearby plate and pinned Big Ivan's arm to the wall, saying, "Ever heard that women can't be touched? Consider this a lesson."
The knife plunged down.
*Puff!*
Big Ivan screamed in agony.
"Wow!"
The crowd gasped as they watched Hardy pin Big Ivan's hand to the wall with the knife.
Blood dripped from his hand.
Hardy wasn't done yet.
He grabbed a fork.
*Puff!*
He pinned Big Ivan's other hand to the wall.
"Oh!"
Big Ivan's cries intensified. His appearance now resembled a victim on a cross.
Fear replaced any other emotion in his eyes as he looked at Hardy.
Hardy stood up.
The onlookers had mixed feelings—some admired him, while others were intimidated.
"Sean, get rid of these troublemakers," Hardy instructed, giving a discreet nod to Sean.
Sean understood, and along with Ryder and a few security guards, they bound the troublemakers and carried them to an unused room in the nightclub's backyard.
Hardy addressed the remaining guests, "This was just a minor incident. It doesn't affect your enjoyment. The band will continue to play."
Nightclub fights were commonplace. As long as no one was killed, it was just part of the entertainment.
The band resumed playing lively jazz, and the nightclub's atmosphere returned to normal.
Hardy went to the bathroom, washed his hands, and checked his reflection. He had a few bruises, but he would recover by the next day.
As he left the bathroom, Marissa, a beautiful woman, approached him with a smile. "Hardy, I'm returning your gun."
She handed him two guns.
Hardy took his revolver and holstered it, then took Big Ivan's TT-33 pistol and tucked it into his back.
Marissa looked at Hardy with admiration.
"Hardy, thank you!"
"It was my job," Hardy replied.
Marissa blinked and said softly, "I was really scared. Thanks to you, my heart is still racing."
She covered her chest, which drew Hardy's attention.
"Hardy, could you give me a ride home later? I'm a bit scared," Marissa asked suddenly.
"I have some matters to attend to first," Hardy replied, not directly agreeing. He still needed to deal with the Russians and investigate further.
"That's okay, I'll wait for you," Marissa said with a charming smile before leaving.
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In the room where Big Ivan was detained, the other gang members were bound and lying on the floor. Big Ivan was tied up as well, his hands bloody and in worse shape.
"Move him to the next room," Hardy instructed.
Big Ivan was taken away.
Hardy faced Big Ivan and said coldly, "You should know this is the Jewish gang's territory. Causing trouble here means there's more to it."
Big Ivan glared at Hardy defiantly, "I just came to have some fun. No other reason."
Hardy drew Ivan's TT-33 pistol and aimed it at Big Ivan.
"You know the power of this gun. If you lie, I'll shoot. How many chances do you think you have?"
Big Ivan was aware of the gun's lethality. A shot to the limbs could cripple him, and a shot to the torso could kill him.
"3."
Hardy raised the gun and aimed at Big Ivan's right leg.
Big Ivan shivered.
"2."
He had brought five men with him, normally managing two or three at night. He never expected to face such a formidable opponent like Hardy.
"1."
"Alright, I'll talk. A few days ago, Spanish Sergeant Burstein contacted us. He said that creating trouble here would benefit us."
Hardy's interest was piqued. "What kind of benefit?"
"They said they'd reduce the price of the cocoa powder we buy from them by 20%."
"Did the Spanish involve anyone else?"
"I don't know."
Hardy asked more questions, and Big Ivan detailed his meeting with Burstein.
It seemed the Spaniards might be plotting something more complex. Hardy felt the need to inform the Jewish gang leader.
"Take him back and lock him up with the others. Also, give him some basic medical treatment," Hardy told Ryder.
"Understood." Ryder dragged Big Ivan away.
Hardy went to the manager's office on the second floor, picked up the phone, and dialed. After a few rings, the Jewish leader Fred answered.
"Mr. Fred, this is Jon Hardy," Hardy introduced himself.
Fred paused, recognizing the name.
"What's the matter, Jon? How can I help?"
"I need to report an incident. Tonight, some Russians caused trouble at the Bunny Girl Bar. I detained them. According to their leader, Ivan, they were sent by Spanish gang member Burstein. I think there might be more to this."
"What do you suggest?" Fred asked.
"If it's just a minor issue, it's manageable. But if it's a larger scheme, we need to be cautious about any further actions from the Spaniards," Hardy advised.
Fred thought for a moment.
"Hardy, you did well. I'll look into it."
The call ended.
Hardy returned to the backyard. The Russian gang members had awakened and were nervously awaiting their fate.
Hardy wasn't going to kill them. Killing would bring trouble.
"I recall there's an unused cellar in the backyard. Lock them up there for three days without food, then release them," Hardy ordered.
The Russians' faces turned pale.
"You can't do this. Just put us out of our misery," one of them pleaded.
*Bang!*
Hardy fired a shot into the ground.
The Russians trembled in fear.
No one dared to speak further.
Hardy made sure everything was in order and checked the time. It was early morning.
He expected Marissa to have left, but she was still waiting at the nightclub.
"You're still here?" Hardy asked.
"I was too scared to go back alone," Marissa said, blinking her eyes.