Yung Lee: Chapter II

Li Santo takes down John Cuban, the brother of Jack, though it almost costs him his life.

Yung Lee created by: Gio Aranda
Written by: Gio Aranda
Edited by: Gio Aranda

Yung Lee: Chapter II | Freshman Year

Yung Lee's journal. Monday, August seventh, 2023, 7:42 a.m.. Freshman year starts in about an hour. I'm very excited to start high school for the first time. I've got a lot on my mind, and nothing at the same time. I think it's pure excitement and nervousness. My first day of high school. You only get one.


Yung Lee's journal. Friday, November third, 2023, 5:27 a.m.. These past three months of crime fighting have been steady. Hard, scary, tough, and gritty, however, steady. Freshman year is fun. Me and Frankie the pizza guy are tight, I have classes with Connor, and I made a new friend. A best friend. His name is Mark. Mark is very cool. Life's moving slowly but simultaneously faster than ever.


Yung Lee's journal. Saturday, January 27th, 2024. 5: 32 a.m.. Last night was brutal. Not for me. Never for me. I spotted six men beating on one in a secluded alley. Two more were standing outside of a vehicle parked at the scene. Cops. Dirty cops. I immediately intervened and saved the man, beating all eight opponents unconscious. No matter the knives, brass knuckles, batons, tasers, and guns. I am the weapon. The greatest weapon. The victim weeped and told me he and his family were in the gravest danger. I grabbed one attacker and practically tortured him to tell me who his employer was.
         "C-Cuban! It's fucking Cuban! S-stop! Stop!" He cried.
         "Cuban is in prison!" I replied.
         The human cockroach chuckled, "Not Jacky... Not that Cuban."
         "What do you mean?!"
         "I've said too much alrea-"
         I slashed him with a right elbow before he could finish, to his cheekbone, gushing and cutting deeply like a knife.
         "Tell me! I'll eat your fuckin' eyeballs!" I then choked him as I punched out more teeth.
         "*grrgh* Ughhh! It's John! Jack's older brother!"
         I threw him to the floor, puzzled, not believing what I was hearing. How did Jack have an older brother and I never knew it? I immediately made my way home and called Connor.


Yung Lee's journal. Monday, June fourth, 2024, 11:45 p.m.. Months of pain, suffering, and fighting. Double-lives are harder to maintain than I thought. Much harder. Frankie and I are becoming really close, and Mark is still my best friend in the whole world. Connor and I work very well together. He's the only one who I can really talk to about this. I guess you could say he's my "guy in the chair." Without Connor, there's no Yung Lee. We have been investigating John Cuban for about five months, and we finally got an address. He warns me not to go alone. I guess he doesn't know what I'm capable of. The only person who is in danger... is John. From me. I will write more when I return, after I've given another Cuban punishment, after I give John a taste of Hell.


Yung Lee's journal. Sunday, May fifth, 2024, 7:35 a.m.. One year of being Yung Lee. Yung Lee is a household name in San Diego. I am not globally known, like the Roadrunner, The Fighter, the Pen, or The Outstanding One. I started at the exact same time as them but I'm not as famous, and it isn't fair. However, I am fine with it, I don't do this for fame. There is only one more on the same popularity level as me; The Tiger. I have surprisingly yet to cross paths with him. He is dangerous, but not to me. One of these days, I will take down that murdering psychopath. I will take down the vigilante. Anyways, I am 15 years old now.


Yung Lee's journal. Wednesday, June sixth, 2024, 4:28 p.m.. Today is supposed to be the last day of freshman year. It is, just not for me. For me, my last day was Monday. Writing this from my hospital bed on a piece of paper. Pen in hand. On Tuesday, at midnight, I immediately went to John's house to hunt him down. As soon as I walked in, there were a few surprises for me. Multiple guards with weapons. Some with guns. I took out all four armed men in a grueling fashion. However I, myself, was not left in the best condition after the fight. John had a hired skilled assassin alongside the three men. He wore a black and white costume that looked similar to mine. He had a utility belt. My symbol was on the lower left side of his chest, but instead of a "YL" combined symbol, it was an "AL" combined symbol. He called himself the "Anti-Lee". He stabbed me in my left ribs. I had to keep the knife there, take it out, and I would've bled everywhere, leaving me dead. I had some bruises around. I was tired, a bit worn. Three trained, armed men and one even more trained, armed assassin don't go down as easy as I thought. Right after, John's house phone rang. Why? I was curious. I picked it up.
         "Boy, you are good." It was John.
         It was my first time ever hearing him, ever speaking with him.
         "You know your brother said that to me. Then I threw his ass in prison." I replied.
         "Yeah, I know. Jacky was always a bit soft. Listen, Lee, there are six armed men in a car arriving at my house now. You will get in the car without struggling and they will bring you to me. If you struggle or try to fight, you get a bullet in the head."
         "Four men with guns, knives, bats, and batons couldn't take me down, Cuban. What makes you think six will stop me?"
         He hung up. I knew it was a trap. I knew it was a plan to kill me, but they wouldn't be able to. I knew it. They picked me up and took me to John's location. The car ride was silent. I held the knife in my ribs tightly so I wouldn't bleed out. They took me into the warehouse he was in. Four men surrounded me, armed, while two held me down on my knees. Five more came, also armed. Nine armed men in front of me, two holding me down. Another man came with a rope. They were all planning to tie me up. No way. 12 men in total, no sign of John... Then John came. 13 opponents in total. It was my first time ever seeing him, ever meeting with him. He was huge. Bigger than Jack. Jack was a thin, average sized guy. John was a noticeably large, muscular man. I immediately pulled the knife out of my ribs. I was about to start bleeding out, but I needed the weapon.
         "Does anyone want an extra knife?" I said jokingly.
         One of the men holding me down immediately tried to grab it from me. I stabbed it into his leg and maneuvered myself behind the two men previously holding me down. The other nine men began to shoot while John ran away with the man with the rope. I grabbed the men's weapons as the guys in front of us accidentally shot and killed them while trying to shoot me. I was armed with three knives and two guns. I ran for my life. I ran into an office and grabbed a lighter from a drawer, and stuck it in my zipper pocket. I ran out, crashing through the window and falling two stories down, outside. I limped to the corner of the backyard of the warehouse. A gallon of gasoline was there. I grabbed it. I could hear them yelling and shouting, trying to find me and chasing after me with anger. I ran back inside as most were already outside, convinced I was still out. I poured the gasoline everywhere I could with my little time, trying not to get spotted. Then I was spotted. I used my gun to shoot my opponents in the arms and lower legs. Once I was out of bullets, I would throw my knives and stab in the same places, arms and legs. I would fight, steal weapons, fight more, lose weapons, and steal more. It was a cycle, as long as my nine opponents were armed, I could retrieve and use their weapons. But then, a time came where I was completely without weapons, and on the verge of death. My suit was in shreds and my body was even worse. I took off my shredded suit and threw it on the floor, leaving me only in my underwear, socks, and shoes. I wasn't wearing my mask but it didn't matter to me, because today, they all get put away, forever. I took out my burner phone from my zipper pocket and dialed 911. I had defeated and knocked unconscious 11 of my opponents. Only two were left. The man with the rope, and John Cuban. The man with the rope was nowhere to be found. I was on my knees, A bullet wound in my left shoulder, right trap, right shoulder, right calve, left thigh, multiple bullet grazes in my right ribs, left ribs, both thighs and calves, and both arms. A stab wound in my left ribs, two more on my back; one on the upper right, and one on the lower left, one more in my right hip, knife slashes everywhere, bruises everywhere, scrapes on all limbs. I was bleeding out, vision foggy, getting dizzy, about to die. I fought 15 armed men in total that night. One, the Anti-Lee, some with guns, some with knives, some with bats, and some with batons. And I won. I defeated each and every one of them, with my bare hands. I was on my knees preparing for my death, John was walking towards me, in front of me. I could hear sirens approaching. The man with the rope was walking toward me from behind - this time, without a rope, this time, with a gun. He placed the barrel on the back of my head.
         "Finish him." John said.
         This was when I realized it was not my time to die. Not at all. I grabbed the gun from him immediately as I heard his grip tighten. I turned it around and shot at his kneecap. He screamed as he fell. I grabbed the gun, pointed it at Cuban's legs, and as he stared at me, I threw it to the floor.
         "I don't need a gun to beat you." I said. "How does it feel, John? That your brother knocked me out and almost beat me in the end... All with his bare hands. No assassins, no henchmen, no weapons. How does it feel being the worst brother, the disappointment. You're so fucking pathetic." I coughed up cups of blood while speaking. He looked incredibly angry.
         "This is the end, kid." He said quietly.
         I chuckled. "Yeah, it is."
         I pulled out the lighter from my pants. His face was confused. I threw the lighter on the floor where I had begun soaking the building with gasoline. I smiled as I did it. Burning both Cuban legacies and wealth, to the ground. Forever. Burning the Yung Lee suit to ashes. The ground immediately lit up and started spreading across the building quickly.
         "No!" He screamed. He pulled out his gun, and shot me through the stomach. Before I died, I saw his brains get blown out from the front. Police.


         I woke up in the hospital bed this morning. I was out for a full day. I died and the ambulance had to resuscitate me. What did dying feel like? Like taking a nap. It was said that I was kidnapped. That's good, no one will find out that I'm Yung Lee. Grandma was beyond sad at the sight of me, at what she heard. She cried like crazy. All of John's henchmen were apprehended, John is dead, and Jack stays in prison. The Cubans are officially defeated. Mark, Connor, and Frankie visited me at the hospital and brought pizza. Always a good time with Frankie. After grandma stopped sobbing, we all ate pizza together in my hospital room. I am alive, and freshman year is over.






















































































Yung Lee will return in Yung Lee: Chapter Three | The Prom