A harsh, chilling sound echoed in the corridor, sharp enough to pierce through the laughter of Charles's group.
The boy who had thrown the punch—taller, broader, with dark hair cut short against his scalp—let out a bloodcurdling scream.
His knees buckled as his entire body jolted violently backward, pain flooding through him in waves.
"AAAAAGHHHHHHHHH!"
The sound tore through the hall, startling even those who had been watching from afar.
He clutched desperately at his hand, but Riley's grip remained iron, unmoving, relentless.
Almost all the bones in the boy's hand had been crushed in that single instant, broken like fragile twigs beneath the sheer pressure of Riley's hold.
His face twisted with agony, his veins bulging as his scream echoed again.
Riley's breath hitched, his own eyes wide with shock. His body froze, unable to comprehend what he had just done.
