Chapter 1
Samuel David Cho, A.K.A. Speedy
22-year-old Samuel David Cho walked down the infamous red-light district of Soho, London. Intelligence from the other members of the Legends had directed him here to search for the one of the most notorious of gangsters, Craig Johnson. This leader of the crime gang Nihilists was only second to the leader of the Beasts, Calvin Hughes. Sam observed himself as he passed by a reflective door. A dark grey trench coat was buttoned up over a bulletproof ultralight, ultrathin and super-resistant battlesuit made of super-flexible plates of vibrantium embedded into a carbon fibre-laced long-sleeved turtleneck shirt and also into a pair of carbon fibre-laced trackpants.
Black gauntlets that channelled his Sigma Force covered his hands and half of his forearms. Black combat boots covered vibrantium-mesh socks. Strapped to Sam's left side, a few inches under his left arm, was a holster that held a lethal blaster that had a grappling hook function. A black short-brimmed fedora, similar to New York's hero Rorschach's, complimented the trench coat, and on its strap, was a small metal plate with an almost-invisible red button. Sam only needed to press the red button for the hat to transform into his visor.
Brightly-lit neon signs indicated brothels and seedy pubs. Throngs of hookers lined the streets, just outside their establishments. The weather was bitterly cold, and Sam wondered why the young women in micro-mini dresses and sky-high stiletto heels still plied their trade outside their drinking dens and clubs. Sam pulled the high neck of his coat up and continued walking. Somehow, there seemed to be no crime gangs. Sam was just about to give up when he heard a shout. The Legend turned to see a horde of men in expensive black suits clear the streets of people. Suspecting that his target was close at hand, Sam moved to the side of the street, slipped his hand under his coat and set his blaster to kill.
A powerfully-built man in a shiny grey designer suit swaggered down the street. A murmur ran through the crowd. The infamous gangster Craig Johnson. Sam narrowed his eyes and melted into the shadows behind a group of women in suits. Craig looked from side to side, deep-set but intelligent eyes scanning the pubs. Finally, he selected one club with a posse of tempting young women outside, who followed him. Most of Craig's henchmen followed, but three remained outside, and placed down a sign labelled "RESERVED". Shortly after, a crowd of sad-looking drinkers exited the club. No outsiders to spoil the Boss' fun. Most of the onlookers faded away, and the nightlife carried on as usual. Sam, however, found a dark alcove and took up sentry duty there, watching the three henchmen. A few harlots passed by and attempted to lure Sam away, but the devout Anglican ignored them and continued waiting. Finally, after about half an hour, the guard henchmen grew bored and allowed themselves to be led away by some call girls.
Sam grinned. Now or never! Resetting his blaster to stun, Sam entered the club and just inside, invisible within the shadows, released the bug-sized surveillance bug that could be controlled via his gauntlet. The bug detached from his gauntlet and flew up, entering the club. At the same time, Sam switched his hat to his visor. Watching the display, Sam noted that some of the henchmen were drowsing, most were dead drunk and trying to make advances on the bored bar girls in blue dresses, who gently but firmly refused. A few, however, were sober, but they had their backs to the exit. Sam raised his blaster, shot them, rendering them unconscious.
The drunk henchmen had still not noticed. Taking out some wads of dollar bills that he had obtained from his bank account, Sam slid them in front of the posse of dancers and girls for their silence. The group of women quickly grabbed the money and fled from the club. Sam then drew a vial of blue liquid knockout gas and swiftly planted it into the club's ventilation system, before activating the full-head sealed helmet that folded out from his neck armour.
Stepping close to the private soundproof room, Sam listened and heard laughing and the clinking of glasses. Noting that the henchmen had all lapsed into total unconsciousness, Sam drew a smoke grenade from his belt and picked the lock to the door of the Private Room. As Sam eased open the door, he raised the smoke grenade and pulled out his blaster, setting it to kill. As the vigilante stepped into the room, the smoke grenade exploded, releasing a huge cloud of smoke.
Startled, Craig slid himself off an attractive young woman and zipped up his leather pants. All he and his henchmen could see was a blue lens bar floating among the huge smokescreen. Sam looked around the room, using the smoke filter in his visor. Craig and seven of his henchmen shared a semi-circular table made of expensive black glass with a half-dozen young women in short dresses and heels. Sam raised his blaster and held his aim, waiting for the smoke to clear. As the dense grey smoke dissipated, Craig ordered his henchmen to stand guard. They drew long kukri blades and levelled them at the intruder.
Sam moved faster than anyone and held his ground, forming a sledgehammer out of Sigma Energy as the henchmen attacked. Using his blaster as a club and the sledgehammer, he smashed one henchmen into the wall, knocked a second to the floor, shattered the ribs of a third, crushed the face of a fourth, cracked the skull of a fifth, fractured the spine of a sixth, and sent the seventh out the door and into the knockout gas field. The six bar girls clung to one another in utter terror and released banshee-level screams. Speedy had to tone down the audio receivers in his helmet to protect his eardrums.
Ignoring the screaming bar girls, Craig said, "So, Speedy of the Legends comes knocking. Come at me, mate!" Sam, whose Legend codename was Speedy, gripped the handle of his energy sledgehammer and swung it at Craig. The large man dived with the speed of a striking snake and dodged, drawing a machete. Sam blinked in surprise and holstered his blaster. Then, he deactivated the hammer and formed a katana. "To the death, then!" Craig snarled and attacked. For his size, the large gangster was fast and agile, and Sam found this man to be a worthy opponent. Craig got a few hits in, but Sam's vibrantium mesh and carbon-fibre laced trench coat guarded the blows, causing Sam to only flinch.
Sam now upped his game, slicing with his sword furiously. Finally, after ten minutes of single combat, the room was nearly destroyed; the walls scored with sword strokes. The couches and bar girls were surprisingly intact. Craig was now beginning to tire, and Sam saw that he himself now had the upper hand. With a feint that caused Craig's slash to go wide, Sam dealt a mighty slash to Craig's leg. Sam felled Craig, who lay on the floor, bleeding and screaming terribly. The bar girls had not stopped screaming, and Sam's personal AI, DJ, who inhabited Sam's visor, informed him that the knockout gas had dissipated. The henchmen, however, were all still out cold. Sam deactivated the sword in a blue flash and opened the door, motioning for the bar girls to exit. The six young women ran out, taking their bags with them. Sam dialled the police and as he heard the sirens in the distance, exited the pub, transforming his visor back into his hat as he went. Sam melted into the crowd and disappeared into the night. As he looked back, three squads of elite police troopers stormed into the pub.
Sam pushed open the door to the five-room flat he shared with his fellow Legends. Three men were seated around the dining table while two women sat on the couch, chatting. Sam pulled off his combat boots and walked into the living/dining room. First, he was greeted by a hug-tackle by the first of the two women, his twin sister Jael Dinah Cho, also an Anglican. The "attack" caused Sam to fall to the floor, with Jael on top of him.
She was a pretty and cute young woman, and her long silky shimmering blonde-dyed hair flowed like water down her back. Her Legend codename was Swift. "Unsporting assault!" Sam managed to gasp out, unprepared for the sudden move. Jael straddled Sam's chest, smiling triumphantly. Then, she bent down and gave Sam a tender kiss on the cheek. "Jael, get off your brother…" A middle-aged man named Phillip Stephen said, looking up from the papers. 35-year-old Phillip, codenamed Justice, got up from his chair and pulled Jael off. Sam shook his head. "It's inevitable, Phillip. Your sibling misses you while you are fighting crime, so its natural that she hug-tackles you when you step in..." Sam explained as he stood up, brushed off his coat and took it off, hanging it up on a hook.
"I can relate. My Esther always causes me to bruise my back when I'm back from the Army Camp." 27-year-old Alexander Howell, Company Sergeant Major (CSM) of the British Army Reserve 4th Company muttered, sipping his coffee. Alex's codename was Bishop. At this, his new wife Esther Martins, 25 years of age, codenamed Phoenix, looked up at him with a "I did not just hear that but I may pummel you for that." look. Alex laughed nervously and went back to his coffee.
The last Legend, a man of 33 years, Adler Kuroōkami, codenamed Black Wolf, rose from the table and sat down on an armchair. "So, Sam, did you kick the ass of Craig Johnson?" "You bet I did." Sam got up from the floor and sank down in another two-seater couch. "It was so easy! All I had to do was knock out the thugs with gas, then I sorted out the boss, who sustained a massive slash to the leg…" Sam paused and smiled as he accepted a warm mug of milk tea from Jael. His sister sat down beside him and cuddled into him, allowing her brother to gently stroke her downy blonde hair. The Legends sat way into the night and morning, discussing plans for the next day.