Mike stopped at the gated entrance to Peterson Park, placing his hands on his hips. He bent to the left and right to work any remaining kinks out of his body before wiping away the small sweat that had started gathering on his brow.

The only sweat on his brow after two hours of running.

Peterson Park was a popular place for fitness nuts like him to go to. The sidewalk looped around the entire park was a good two miles long and had enough steep hills to qualify for an entire routine on its own. Mike would always come here and do at least three laps, one power walking, one jogging, and the last one at a full sprint. The satisfying burn that would result from it was worth the pain his muscles put him through the next day. His body had started getting used to it before he got sent to the slammer, so he figured this would be a good way to get back into the groove of things and work up a sweat.

However, the reality of things was far different. He had just finished his fifth lap, power walking the entire time. And he didn't feel winded at all.

His red t-shirt didn't cling to his body from the moisture, his shorts were still as dry as they were this morning, and not a single one of his muscles were crying out in pain from the workload. It felt less like a workout and more like a warm-up. He frowned, turning to the sidewalk path that looped around the park. There were other runners out and they all stared at him with a mixture of awe and jealousy. They were all bent over, hands on their knees and breathing heavily from exhaustion, while he hadn't broken a sweat doing the exact same exercise.

Mike kept his head down while starting to jog in place. He turned towards the entrance gate and ran back into the city. He put just a little more speed to it than usual to outpace anyone who might follow him. The last thing he needed was people asking why he was the only one not even slightly winded from the workout. And if these people were as obsessed with keeping fit as he was, then they certainly would start asking.

Which, at any other time, he wouldn't mind.

Now? He just didn't have the answers.

Once he was far enough away, he lifted his head up with a thankful sigh. His smile turned into a grimace as he observed the neighborhood he had entered. The crumbling apartments, the warped concrete in the roads, cans that rolled along the side of the street, and chain link fences set up around basketball courts revealed the everything you needed to know about the area. The people who roamed the street didn't help either. Torn, saggy clothes, walking with their heads hanging down, and the occasional homeless person or drug addict passed out on the side of the street.

Mike shook his head at the poor living conditions as he rounded the corner of a building. He had to slow down to make sure he didn't step on any of the refuse or piles of garbage. He ignored the putrid smell coming from the whole area, having smelled worse while he was doing time. He runs into quite a few people who try to intimidate him, but a simple confident sneer is enough to scare them off.

Mike's eyes filled with pity at the sight before him. Many of these people probably got here through no fault of their own. Maybe they had a bad week that spiraled into their financial ruin, maybe they got laid off too many times at work, or maybe they did choose this for themselves. Whatever the reason, he can't imagine this was how they wanted to live out the rest of their lives.

Then again, what could he really do to help them?

“Plenty,” he was surprised at the voice that came out of his mouth. However, he didn't say anything to take it back. He just...felt like it was right. Like there was plenty he could do to help these people. But then...what-

The nearby sound of laughter makes him slow his pace. He stops at one of the many alleyways, peering through the gaps in the chain link fence that separates it from the sidewalk.

What he sees makes him frown in anger.

In the middle of the alley, hiding beneath the shadow of a large, green garbage can, were five teens. They were squatting near the ground in a semi-circle, attire almost completely identical to each other. Grey hoodies with matching sweatpants. Except for two of them, who were obviously women. They wore small leather jackets with jean shorts, not even trying to show one hint of modesty in with their bodies.

The alley itself was of the typical variety. The space inbetween two large brick buildings that was big enough for five people to fit in, if they stood side by side. A favored hangout for anyone wanting to keep out of public line of sight. Four green grabage cans sat against the walls, their contents spilling out onto the concrete floor. Hardly any sunlight managed to illuminate the alove, covering it in darkness that would hide most actions to cursory glances. There were only two entrances/exits; the one on Mike's side, blocked by a chainlink fence, and the one on the side opposite to him that led into the streets.

They all had their eyes focused on the inside of their circle, where a mangy, limping cat circled an equally injured dog. The two animals kept hissing and growling at each other, while the teens whooped and prodded them with sticks taken from the ground. He saw coins and crumpled up dollars exchange hands as they bet on what the outcome would be.

He inwardly groaned at the sight. Bunch of kids with nothing better to do than be cruel to some animals just minding their own business. Why is it that boredom mixed with youthful stupidity always led to things like this? Though, he supposes he can't complain too much. He did stupid things when he was young too because he was bored.

But this? He'd never stoop this low just to get a laugh. This was disgusting.

He felt his hands curl into fists as he watched the cat get prodded into taking a swipe at the dog. The dog flinched back, its left eye taking a deep scratch wound. The crowd went wild at the sight of blood, calling for more carnage in various languages. His right hand shot up, grabbing the chains. His gripped tightened on it for a few seconds but he did not move.

Mike felt the overwhelming need to jump over the fence in front of him, walk over to the kids, and give them a little lesson in discipline. He felt like jumping in and rescuing those animals, taking them to a vet, then getting them a proper home.

But...

He sighed, forced his hand to let go, then turned back towards the sidewalk.

He couldn't fight the teens. He was on parole. If the police caught him making trouble, then it's right back in the slammer for him. And he had no doubt at least one of the teens would be quick to call the cops, then lie to them about what happened. Then Mike's ass would be grass.

As much as he wanted to help, he had to ignore it.

He turned his gaze towards his feet, as he started his jog back. He would just keep going until the end of the neighborhood, then he'd start heading back home.

He hadn't even gone one step, before the heard a high pitched voice come from the alleyway, “Hey! You guys! Leave those poor things alone!”

Mike stopped in place, mentally groaned, and walked backward until he was standing in front of the fence again. The teens' heads were all focused on the other end of the alleyway, forcing Mike to squint to see what they were looking at. Through the darkness, he could just make out the thin outline of a girl standing among the refuse on the ground. She couldn't have been more than sixteen years old, yet here she was trying to stand up to five thugs in a dark alleyway.

'Girl after my own heart,' Mike chuckled while shaking his head. He couldn't deny her guts, and it wasn't like he hadn't picked plenty of fights he stood no chance of winning. It didn't matter if he got beat up, as long as he stood his ground and gave as good as he got.

Unfortunately, judging by the glints in the eyes of some of the teens, they were planning to do more than a simple beat down. The cat and dog saw their opportunity, both dashing towards the end of the alley where the girl was. Mike watches them scamper past her into the wider city beyond, hoping to god they don't end up getting run over by a car.

The punks start whistling as they form a half circle around the girl. Three of them are already behind her to cut off any attempt at escape, while the toughest looking one is trying to intimidate her. To her credit, she doesn't give them a single inch, staring their leader in the eyes with as much indignation as she could muster.

Under normal circumstances, Mike would be cheering her on, yelling tips on how to fight multiple opponents at once. She wouldn't win, but she'd give them enough trouble that they'd probably back off rather than do anything worse to her.

Right now though...

“Come on kid,” Mike mumbled, not noticing his hands gripping the fence, “get outta there.”

It's when the leader raises his hand towards her face that he finally acts.

Mike is on the other side of the fence faster than the eye can track, landing on the other side with his knees bent to absorb the shock. He sighs, places his hands in his pockets, then starts leisurely walking towards the punks. Just as the girl slaps the leader's hand away, Mike belts out a loud whistle. It's high pitch echoes off the walls of the alleyway, gaining the attention of the six people at the other end.

“What do we have here?” he smiled as the five teens began to turn towards him, “Didn't your mothers teach that nobody likes a bunch of bullies?”

Mike's mind is already racing as the leader points towards the two guys to come with him, while the girls move to block the exit. The three of them start to walk towards Mike, fanning out to his sides to limit his movement and block any escape. Meanwhile, Mike is thinking about how he's going to handle this. He knew he could take them all down without breaking a sweat. The problem was if his actions got out to the police. If anyone of these assholes called the cops afterward, Mike would be up shit's creek.

Of course, that's only if Mike swung first.

But if they swung first, then he could plead Self-Defense in court. It wouldn't absolve him of all wrongdoing, but it would mean he wouldn't be violating parole.

Now all he had to do was push the right buttons.

“You look lost, ese,” the leader, his skin tanned from standing out in the sun so much, said with a heavy Spanish accent, “Must've made a wrong turn somewhere.”

Mike chuckled, “Really? 'Ese'? Someone's been watching too many movies. Who the hell says that to people they're trying to mug?”

The leader's eye twitched, as he started to laugh out loud. He turned to his two men, “This man thinks he's funny? Doesn't he?”

A clicking sound, followed by a clash of light revealed the concealed, serrated knife in the leader's palm. He held it up to Mike's neck while audibly licking his teeth, “Do you think this is a funny man? Do you?”

“Yeah, I do,” Mike lifted up a finger and pushed the knife away from his neck, “It's funny how you think you can scare me. I've seen foxes scarier than you. So why don't you drop the act and kick rocks before I get angry.”

To seal the deal, Mike spat in the man's eye.

That did it.

The man yelled a curse, as he brought his fist up towards Mike's chest. But his movements were slow. So slow that Mike knew he could easily sidestep the blow. His main focus was on the two douchebags closing in on his left and right. He could drop to the ground, sweep their feet out from under them, then kick the one with the knife in the groin. But that would-

They heard a girlish shriek, followed by two bodies hitting the ground.

They all turned to look at the exit and saw a newcomer straddling one of the female thugs on the ground. She tried to claw his eyes out, but he simply slammed his fist into her temple until the stopped struggling.

By the time the other female thug had gotten over her shock, the newcomer had turned his attention towards her. She sneered, pulled a knife, and tried to charge at him. Before she could take a step, the girl Mike had come to save jumped her. The younger girl started clawing at the thug's eyes, making the older woman scream in pain as the newcomer advanced upon her.

Not wanting to waste the opportunity, Mike dashed towards the opponent on his left. He stomped on the guy's foot then delivered a palm strike to his open jaw when he tried to scream in pain. He followed it up with three rapid punches to the kidneys. As the man bent over in pain, mike grabbed him by his face. With a grunt, he slammed the punk's head into the brick wall of the building.

As he felt the body go limp in his hand, he immediately ducked while kicking out with his leg. The other minion tripped and fall forward, cracking his skull on the pavement. Mike watched the teen's eyes roll into the back of his head. Only then did he stand up and turn to face the-

He felt something prick against his side. He looked down to see the leader, his mouth agape in terror. His knife's blade had bent from being pushed towards Mike's flesh.

Mike watched the thug begin to back away in terror, mumbling nonsense as he slowly advanced upon him. Mike smiled while cracking the knuckles on his right hand. As he advanced, his eyes shifted from the thug to the man stepping up behind him. His smiled turned sinister as the newcomer grabbed the thug by his shoulder. Before his foe could realize what was happening, Mike brought his fist back and slammed it into the man's face.

He went out like a light.