Calvin Handled Them Like a Pro

Calvin ended the call and continued his morning run, the rhythm of his footsteps syncing with the beat of the music in his ears. Lost in the cadence, he was suddenly jolted from his reverie by the sight of a group of men converging on him. His pulse quickened as he registered the glint of small knives in their hands.

"Hey, rich boy! Hand over your money," one of them demanded, brandishing his blade menacingly.

Calvin slowed his pace, his mind racing as he assessed the situation. "I don't have any money with me," he replied calmly, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The man scoffed. "Don't lie to us. We know you've got cash or black cards on you," he insisted, his tone growing more aggressive.

Before Calvin could react, the men closed in on him, grabbing hold of his arms to restrain him while others attempted to reach for his wallet. In a split second, Calvin's training kicked in, his body moving on instinct as he swiftly broke free from their grasp.

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