"Don't blame me if anyone dies here today."
With that cold warning, Reon turned—and drove his fist straight into the chest of the shadowy figure behind him.
CRACK!
The man flew back like a ragdoll, slamming into the wall with a sickening thud before crumpling to the floor.
The classroom fell silent.
The men who had been laughing just moments ago now stood frozen, expressions twisted in shock.
Reon didn't give them time to recover.
"You think I didn't notice you clowns?" he said, his voice low and sharp.
"I have better hearing than all of you combined. I sensed every single one of you the second I entered this classroom."
His eyes locked onto the group like a predator studying prey.
"Why'd you stop laughing now?" Reon tilted his head. "Wasn't it funny when his face was on the floor?"
He raised his chin, eyes now fully open, and paused mid-sentence.
His expression changed. Something didn't add up.
Ten people.
There were ten people standing in front of him now.
Two of them wore red jackets—Rony and Jack. Classmates. Transfer students. They'd only joined the school a month ago.
Three others were students too, though from different classes. Still, they were from this school.
But the real shock came when Reon recognized two familiar faces from his old school.
His breath caught in his throat.
Behind them stood three more boys—ones he didn't recognize. They were built differently. Their posture, their presence, their aura… all screamed strength.
Reon's gaze sharpened. He scanned them carefully—and saw it.
Tattoos.
Each of the unknown boys had strange symbols inked across their hands.
Wait… I've seen that symbol before. But where? The thought itched at his mind, but no answer came.
Then—
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Slow, mocking applause echoed through the room.
A boy stepped forward with a smirk on his face, his voice smooth and sarcastic.
"As expected from the former King of Mankind High School," he said.
Reon's eyes narrowed.
He knew that voice. He knew that smug face.
"…Ming."
The boy chuckled. "Still remember me, huh?"
Reon's fists clenched slightly. Ming had once worked under him. Back when Reon ruled his old school like a tyrant. That was a different life.
Reon kept his voice calm, cold. "Why are you here, Ming?"
Ming grinned wider. "Why not, Leader? A flower should always follow its root, right?"
"I told you—I'm not your leader anymore," Reon said. "And you were never loyal. You followed strength. Nothing else."
"Oh, that hurts. Really, it does," Ming said with mock pain, clutching his chest.
"You know, when I heard that the great Reon had transferred to a no-name school out in the countryside, I didn't believe it."
He pointed at Reon, eyes gleaming.
"But now that I'm here—now that I've seen it for myself—I believe it. Just look at you."
His voice twisted into disgust.
"How can someone fall so far?"
"Cut the nonsense and tell me why you're here," Reon snapped.
Ming tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Oh? Since you're so curious, let me tell you."
He leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a serious tone.
"Our new leader sent us to bring you back to the school."
Reon's expression faltered.
New leader?
He scoffed. "I already told you people—I'm never going back to that place. And you really think I'll follow your orders?"
"If you don't come willingly," Ming said, smiling darkly, "we'll have no choice but to force you."
He pointed toward the unconscious teacher on the floor.
"Just look at your precious teacher. He tried to stop us. That didn't end well."
Reon took a step forward, eyes burning.
"I've committed a lot of sins in my life," he said coldly. "But I've never taken a life. Not yet."
He clenched his fists.
"But maybe today… that's going to change."
Ming clapped slowly again. "So dramatic. Is that all you can do? Talk big?"
He gestured to the three large men standing behind him.
"Do you see these three? They're not ordinary. They're strong. Much stronger than you expect."
Reon laughed. Not a light chuckle—but a dark, deadly laugh that made even a few of the newcomers shift uncomfortably.
"So that's it, huh? You brought backup. Just ten people to kill me?"
He shook his head.
"You of all people should know how dangerous I am. And yet… you brought only ten?"
He stepped forward, eyes glowing with suppressed rage.
"Seems like you've developed a death wish."
Ming's smile finally faltered.
Reon's voice dropped to a growl.
"You want to kill me? Fine. But try surviving the price."
Ming raised his hand. "Boys. Attack him."
The three brutes moved at once.
Reon's eyes darted side to side. His instincts screamed.
He grabbed a broken wooden rod from a nearby table—snapped during the earlier struggle. It wasn't much, but it was enough.
The first attacker lunged at Reon, throwing a punch straight toward his face.
But at the very last moment, Reon tilted his head and dodged.
With no time wasted, he drove his wooden rod into the man's stomach with full force.
Thwack!
The man staggered back, landing a few feet away.
But Reon's eyes widened. He's still standing?
That hit should've knocked the air out of him.
From the side, Ming laughed. "Now you're surprised? Didn't I tell you—they're not ordinary. Believe me now?"
He took a step forward, tone filled with pride.
"These three… they're members of the Seven Major Clans."
A glint of menace crossed his eyes. "There are even rumors that they can use… special powers."
Reon narrowed his eyes, then scoffed.
"This is what you call strong?"
He slammed the rod into the ground and grinned.
"Just give me five minutes. I'll break all of them."
As he spoke, the second attacker sneaked behind him and launched a powerful kick at Reon's back.
But Reon's reflexes kicked in.
Whoosh!
He spun just in time, the rod deflecting the incoming leg.
The rod flew from his hand, slammed into the wall behind him—and cracked it open.
Dust fell from the ceiling. Reon's eyes locked onto the damage.
That… was not normal. That kind of raw power shouldn't exist in a human body.
I can't beat them in pure strength, he thought. I'll need to rely on my skill instead.
But before he could act again, the third attacker came from the front, swinging a thick metal rod at Reon's head.
At the same time, the second one tried to pin him from behind.
It was a coordinated attack—but they underestimated him.
Reon's body moved on instinct.
He grabbed the second man's arm and pulled hard, shifting him into the path of the third attacker's strike.
CRACK!
The rod meant for Reon's skull struck the second man instead—right across the head.
The man collapsed instantly, unconscious.
Reon exhaled and turned his head toward Ming, his voice calm and cold.
"One down."
Ming's smirk disappeared the moment his man hit the ground.
His expression twisted into rage.
"What are you standing around for?!" he barked at the others. "Go! Beat him down!"
At his command, four more stepped forward—three of them from this school and another tall guy who'd arrived with Ming.
They all moved in.
Reon's two classmates, who had been standing quietly beside Ming, didn't move. They simply watched.
Now, Reon was surrounded. Six enemies. No escape.
Damn, he thought, adjusting his grip on the broken rod. I was already struggling with the first two. This… is going to be hell.
The circle closed in around him.
One of them rushed first, charging straight at Reon with fists raised.
Bad move.
Reon ducked low and threw the rod at the boy's legs.
CRACK!
The rod hit hard. The boy tripped mid-run and flew forward, airborne.
Before he hit the ground, Reon moved like lightning, grabbed the boy by the head, and hurled him toward another attacker.
BOOM!
Both of them slammed into a broken bench.
Snap. Thud. CRASH.
The bench shattered beneath their bodies. Splinters flew. Blood seeped from cuts as they groaned, motionless.
At the same moment—
Reon spun, slamming his elbow into another attacker's skull.
The guy dropped instantly, his head cracking against the ground with a heavy thump.
Three down.
Reon stood in the center, chest heaving, but eyes sharp as blades.
Only three remained.
And these weren't normal.
Two of them were the tattooed monsters—their aura alone made Reon's skin prickle.
The third one… made Reon pause.
Tall. Muscular. Confident stance.
Oliver.
A name Reon hadn't heard in a long time.
"Didn't expect to see you here," Reon said, eyes narrowing.
Oliver didn't smile. He cracked his knuckles.
"Yeah? I did."
He took a step forward.
"I heard the King fell. Thought I'd see it myself."
Reon let out a breath, calming his heartbeat.
Oliver… Former boxing champion. Master rank in the gang before I left.
Reon gave a small, dry laugh.
"Well… this just got harder."
Oliver was the first to step forward.
Without warning, he threw a heavy punch aimed straight at Reon's chest.
Reon sidestepped it just in time and prepared to counterattack—but Oliver grinned.
He'd predicted it.
Without missing a beat, Oliver twisted and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick to Reon's side.
CRACK!
Reon flew backward, crashing onto the ground.
"Shit…" Reon muttered, coughing as pain flared across his ribs. "That first hit was just a bait…"
He tried to stand, but before he could rise fully, two of the tattooed clan members grabbed him from behind.
Their grip was ironclad—too strong for him to break free easily.
He struggled, trying to twist out of it, but—
BAM!
A fist smashed into his face.
Blood sprayed from his mouth.
Oliver stood in front of him, knuckles bloodied, wearing a smug grin.
"Remember what you said to me?" Oliver hissed. "Back when you called me useless? Look at you now… bleeding in front of me."
Punch.
Another. And another.
Reon's body jerked with each hit, pain exploding with every impact to his face and chest.
His vision blurred. His breathing grew heavy.
Damn it. If this keeps going, I'll pass out…
He gritted his teeth. No. I'm not going down like this.
He shifted his body weight slightly and pushed upward, using the support of the two holding him. Then—
BAM!
He drove a solid kick straight into Oliver's chest.
Oliver's body reeled back, crashing into a desk behind him.
Before the other two could react, Reon snatched his rod from the floor and spun in a full 360-degree arc.
WHACK! WHACK!
The rod struck both men clean across their temples. They stumbled back, groaning, dazed.
Reon dropped to one knee, panting heavily.
His arms trembled.
His face was bruised, blood running from his nose and mouth. He could feel his stamina draining with every heartbeat.
Across the room stood the three strongest—Oliver and the two tattooed monsters—all still standing.
They weren't just fighters.
They were monsters.
And Reon… was nearly out of strength.
He looked up, sweat dripping from his chin.
Three of them. One of me.
He tightened his grip on the broken rod.
This isn't over yet.
Reon's body screamed in pain.
He could barely feel his left leg anymore—blood gushed freely, staining the broken floorboards beneath him.
But his grip on the rod tightened.
He picked up another rod from the floor, ignoring the pain, ignoring his blurred vision.
He charged at the three remaining opponents.
What followed was a savage, brutal fight.
Reon fought like a wounded beast cornered by predators.
Each swing, each dodge, each counter came from pure instinct and desperation.
Minutes passed like hours.
One of the tattooed men fell after a devastating strike to the head.
The second tried to block, but Reon pivoted and drove the rod straight into his ribs.
CRACK.
He crumpled.
Oliver was the last.
A flurry of fists and metal clashed—but Reon, barely standing, found his opening.
With one final scream, he slammed the rod down on Oliver's shoulder, sending the former boxer collapsing to the ground, unconscious.
The classroom fell silent.
Reon stood alone.
Victorious.
But broken.
His chest heaved. Blood dripped from his forehead, his arms, his leg—his entire body a canvas of bruises and wounds.
But the fire in his eyes never faded.
The fire of vengeance.
"They hurt my teacher…" he muttered. "I'll make them pay…"
He limped forward, dragging his injured leg, approaching Ming slowly.
Ming clapped mockingly.
"Well done," he said with a smirk. "You really surprised me. I thought you'd gone soft. Guess I was wrong."
He stepped forward, still smiling.
"If you hadn't stopped fighting back then… if you had kept training… I wonder what kind of monster you'd have become by now. But look at you—weak, slow, bleeding."
Reon didn't answer.
"I've already beaten your body," Ming said, "but maybe I need to break your soul too."
Reon narrowed his eyes.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Oh," Ming said with a twisted grin, "don't rush. I have a gift for you."
Reon's eyes narrowed further.
Ming signaled to two of his lackeys.
They smirked evilly and walked toward a large overturned desk at the back of the classroom.
Reon's gut twisted.
"What are they doing…?"
But when the two boys pulled out what Ming called a "gift," Reon froze.
His heart stopped.
They dragged two girls from behind the desk—both bound, gagged, clothes torn, bodies trembling.
One had tear-filled eyes.
The other glared in fury, unable to scream.
Reon's soul shattered.
Because he knew them.
One was his younger sister.
The other—
"Nyra…!"
Gun's crush. The one who always looked at Reon kindly. The one who didn't deserve this nightmare.
Reon's vision turned red.
Something inside him snapped.
"I was going to let you live, Ming," Reon said, voice calm yet terrifying.
"But now?"
He raised his head, eyes glowing with something darker.
"Now I'm going to torture you to death."