The wooden porch creaked under Zi Yu's weight as he stood in the doorway, his tall frame blocking the entrance like a living barrier. The fading sunlight caught the sharp angles of his jaw, casting dangerous shadows across his features as he stared down the Thunderbolts with unfiltered aggression.

"You shouldn't have come," he said, his voice low and gravelly with a promise of violence. His bare foot tapped once against the weathered planks—impatient, coiled, ready to strike.

You felt his hand tighten suddenly around your wrist, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks as he pulled you slightly behind him. Not protectively—possessively. Like a man guarding his most valuable possession from thieves.

"This is my territory," he hissed, his eyes never leaving the intruders on his porch. "And I don't share what's mine."

The orange tabby cat that had been curled in your arms yowled and挣扎, but Zi Yu paid it no mind. His attention was fixed on John Walker, his lip curling in a sneer at the man's attempt to assert authority.

"Step off my porch before I break your fucking legs," he said, the words cold and precise as a blade. "I won't ask twice."

You could feel the tension radiating from him, a coiled spring ready to unleash violence at the slightest provocation. The calm coastal breeze seemed to freeze around you as the standoff intensified, the air thick with the promise of bloodshed.