The tension in the room was thick enough to taste. After the whole mess with Tiffany and her outburst, things had settled into a fragile quiet. She was still clearly hurt, her pride wounded more than anything, but she wasn't fighting me anymore. I rested my arm gently on her shoulder, a simple gesture of reassurance. She flinched for a second, then relaxed into it.
"There's no need to worry about anything," I said, my voice low and calm, meant for her but loud enough for everyone to hear. "Tiff is still our vice-leader and a valued member of The Hunter's Guild. Nothing has changed."
She looked up at me, her stormy eyes a little less cloudy now. She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Yes, leader."
It sounded like the response of an obedient child, but I knew it was more than that. It was acceptance. "See? Everything is fine," I said, giving her shoulder a light squeeze before letting go. I scanned the faces in our makeshift guild room—the repurposed, dusty room that was now our sanctuary. The air was still heavy, but the immediate crisis was over.
"Now," I announced, clapping my hands together once, the sound echoing slightly off the concrete walls. "Since everyone is present, we should start our first official planning meeting. Isn't that right?"
Jack, ever my reliable friend, was the first to break the lingering silence. "Yeah! The leader is right."
Ken, his eyes practically gleaming with fervor, shot up from his seat. "Your Majesty! We will now commence the first strategical meeting of the Hunter's Guild!" His formality was a bit much, but his enthusiasm was infectious.
"My hands are aching to beat someone, leader," Padro added, cracking his knuckles for emphasis. A wide, eager grin was plastered on his face.
Qasim, more reserved as always, simply nodded. "Yes, Leader."
With the energy finally shifting from tense to anticipatory, we all moved to our designated seats around the large, rickety table we'd salvaged. I took the head, of course. To my right, Isabel settled in, her presence a warm and steady comfort. To my left, Tiffany sat, still a little withdrawn but engaged, her eyes fixed on the tabletop.
As I looked at Isabel, I saw her own eyes sparkling with a kind of awe as she watched me. It was a look I was getting used to, but it still did something to my insides. Curiosity piqued, I focused my senses, letting the faint outlines of her Soul Ledger flicker into my vision. The first entry was no surprise: [Love for Adam]. I'd guessed as much. But the next one made my eyes go wide. [Brother Complex].
Brother complex? Seriously? I never would have pegged her for that. A faint smile touched my lips. It was unexpected, but… well, I supposed it was okay. It was just another part of her.
My gaze drifted to the others, my curiosity now fully ignited. I glanced at Ken. His Soul Ledger was blazing. [Devotion for Adam] and [Majesty's Servant]. I was genuinely shocked by the intensity of it. It wasn't just loyalty; it was absolute, unwavering fealty. It was a little intimidating, to be honest.
I looked at Padro next. His was more what I expected: [Respect for Adam] and [Follower]. Simple, straightforward, and reliable. That was Padro.
Then, Qasim: [Astonished by Adam] & [Follower]. It seemed my display of power had left a deeper impression on him than I realized. He was still processing it all, but he was on board. That's what mattered.
Bringing my focus back to the room, I cleared my throat. "Alright. First order of business. I want to know if anyone has detailed information on the 'Ruthless Animals'."
Tiffany shifted in her seat. "I'm not that interested in that kind of stuff, but I have a vague idea," she said, tapping a finger on the table. "Their leader is a third-year senior. He's a ghost, doesn't really show his face around school, so almost no one has seen him. His name is… something like Luc… Hmm?"
"Kevin Lucas."
The voice was clear and loud, cutting through Tiffany's musings. We all turned to look at Anna, who was sitting in front of me. She had a file folder clutched in her hands, her knuckles white.
"Yeah! You're right, Anna," Tiffany said, snapping her fingers. "That's him."
"Anna, if you have information, please share it with us," I said, giving her an encouraging nod.
She took a deep breath, stepping forward. "Okay. There are five core members. The leader, as I said, is Kevin Lucas. He's got a bulky physique and a really intimidating personality. The vice-leader is… Hughes Jackson."
As she said the name, a violent shiver ran through her entire body. Her face paled, and the folder in her hands trembled. I immediately understood.
I softened my voice. "It's okay, Anna. You're safe here. No one can hurt you."
She looked at me, her fearful eyes finding mine. She took another shaky breath and nodded. "Yes, leader." She steadied herself and continued, her voice regaining some of its strength. "The right-hand of Kevin is Charles Patrick. Yeah, he's the one you beat and humiliated, leader. Because of that incident, the fear people have of them is starting to evaporate. They won't let that go."
Jack leaned forward, his expression grim. "Yeah, you're right. We really poked the hornet's nest. These are powerful people."
"We're not scared of anyone!" Padro declared, slamming a fist lightly on the table.
"We will fight for you, leader," Qasim added, his voice firm.
Anna glanced at them, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes, before she continued. "Their strategist and financial supporter is Friedrich Colson… and their informer is Lina Richards."
The moment those two names left her lips, my blood turned to ice and then instantly began to boil. Friedrich. Lina. The two people who had orchestrated my downfall, who had ripped my life apart and left me for dead. A searing, white-hot rage flooded my senses, so intense that the room seemed to blur at the edges. My hands clenched into fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms.
A soft, warm hand covered mine. I looked to my right and saw Isabel looking at me, her expression full of concern. "Calm down, Adam," she whispered, her thumb stroking the back of my hand. "I'm here for you." Her touch was an anchor in the storm of my fury. I took a deep, shuddering breath and forced the rage down, locking it away. There would be a time for that. Now was the time for planning.
"Let's start forming a plan," I said, my voice tight.
But before another word could be spoken, the door to our room burst open. A couple of first-year students, guys I recognized as having pledged loyalty to the guild, stumbled in, gasping for breath.
"We're ambushed!" one of them yelled, his face slick with sweat and fear. "The Ruthless Animals… they're charging! They're attacking everyone in the west wing!"
I stood up so fast my chair screeched against the concrete floor. "Looks like they decided not to wait." My mind was already racing, plans forming and discarding themselves in an instant. I turned to the boys. "Hey! Both of you, go gather anyone else who can fight. Try to hold them off, create a defensive line. We'll be there in an instant."
They nodded and scrambled back out the door. I turned to my core group. The time for planning was over. The time for action was now.
"Who is willing to fight?" I asked, my gaze sweeping over each of them. "You can come with me. The rest can wait here." I looked directly at Anna. "You will find a better place to hide."
"But leader… I can help!" she protested.
"Your help was the information you gave us. It was invaluable," I said firmly but not unkindly. "Now, your job is to stay safe. That's an order."
She bit her lip but nodded. I turned to the others. "Ken, are you coming?"
"I am your loyal servant," he said, his voice ringing with conviction. "I will fight by your side until the end."
"What about you, Jack?"
He grinned, a wild look in his eyes. "We're bros, aren't we? Of course, I'm coming."
My eyes fell on Qasim and Padro. Padro was already on his feet. "Leader, I'll make sure those bastards lick the ground."
Qasim, however, looked hesitant. His hands were trembling slightly. He was scared. I couldn't blame him. This wasn't a game.
"Qasim," I said, my voice softening. "If you're not comfortable, that's fine. But I need you to promise me something. Protect Anna. No matter what."
Relief washed over his face, quickly replaced by a look of fierce determination. He stood up straight and met my gaze. "I'm sorry, leader. I promise. I will protect Anna with my life." He was still scared, but he had found his purpose in this fight.
Finally, I looked at Isabel and Tiffany. A part of me, the part that cared for them deeply, wanted to order them to stay behind, to keep them far away from the violence that was about to unfold. Before I could even open my mouth, Isabel spoke, her voice sharp as steel.
"Don't you dare say it, Adam," she warned, her eyes flashing. "I am coming. And for the record, I'm a much better fighter than you."
I couldn't help but let out a short laugh. "As you wish, milady. But please, prioritize your own safety."
Then I looked at Tiffany. She stood up, her back ramrod straight. The earlier annoyance was gone, replaced by the cold, hard focus of a warrior. "I was trained in a military bootcamp," she said, her voice clipped and professional. "I'm more qualified to be in a fight than anyone here."
I nodded, a surge of pride swelling in my chest. This was my guild. My family.
"Then it's decided," I declared, my voice resonating with power. "The Hunter's Guild… it's time to prove ourselves!"
A roar of agreement went up. The air crackled with energy. Jack grabbed a hefty metal baseball bat from a corner. Padro, with a flourish, pulled a thick bicycle chain from his jacket pocket, wrapping it around his fist. This was it. This was the moment I'd get to see how much they had all grown.
We moved as one, a tight, determined unit, bursting out of our hideout and sprinting towards the west wing. The sounds of fighting grew louder with every step—shouts, grunts of pain, the sickening thud of fists hitting flesh.
The moment we rounded the corner into the main hallway, the scene of chaos unfolded before us. Two of our guild members were backed against a row of lockers, fighting desperately. One was a big, muscular guy, probably 6-foot-2, built like a mountain. Even at my 5-foot-11, he towered over me. The other was smaller, with a normal physique, but he was fighting with the heart of a lion. They were outnumbered at least five to one, but they weren't giving an inch.
And then I saw them. The ones leading the attack. My vision tunneled, and the world faded to red.
Friedrich Colson.
He was standing there, a smug, arrogant sneer on his face, watching the beatdown with amusement. Beside him stood Charles Patrick, his massive frame radiating brute force. Just the sight of Friedrich, the architect of my past misery, sent a wave of pure, unadulterated rage through me. I wanted to crush his face, to hear his bones break, to make him suffer a thousand times more than I had.
I moved closer, my steps silent, the fury making me light on my feet. I could hear the desperate cries of my guild members.
"We won't let you go! We will fight for our leader!" the big guy roared, spitting blood.
Friedrich let out a derisive laugh, a sound that grated on my very soul. "Leader? Who, Adam? Puh! Hahaha! Seriously? You think that chicken, that pathetic cuckold, is going to save you? Come on, don't make me laugh."
"You bastard! You just wait and watch!"
I paused, hidden by the corner, and let my ability wash over the two main targets. I needed to know what I was up against. Their stats appeared in my mind's eye, crisp and clear.
Status:
Name: Friedrich Colson Strength: 110 Agility: 133 Endurance: 146 Mentality: 200 Intelligence: 190 Mana: 0 Potential: A Skills: [Brawler], [Expert in Knife using] Passive Skills: [Prodigal] Superpower: [None]
Status:
Name: Charles Patrick Strength: 150 Agility: 145 Endurance: 170 Mentality: 80 Intelligence: 60 Mana: 0 Potential: B+ Skills: [Proficient in Kick-boxing] Passive Skills: [Rage] Superpower: [None]
High stats. Especially Friedrich's Mentality and Intelligence. He's smart and cunning. Charles is just a brute. I didn't have the luxury of time to analyze their skills in depth. I had to act now.
I stepped out from behind the corner, my team fanning out behind me. The hallway fell silent for a heartbeat as all eyes turned to us.
"Everyone, be ready," I commanded, my voice dangerously low. "Isabel, Tiffany. Both of you focus on the mobs. Take out their numbers."
"Yes, leader," they said in perfect sync.
"Padro, Jack. You two focus on Charles. He's strong, so be careful of his punches."
"You got it, leader," Padro said, swinging his chain menacingly.
"Alright, buddy," Jack added, resting the bat on his shoulder.
"Ken, go support Tiffany and Isabel. Don't let them get overwhelmed."
"Okay, Your Majesty! But what about you?" Ken asked, his eyes flicking towards Friedrich.
I gave him a cold, hard smile. "I'll manage."
My gaze locked onto Friedrich. He was the only one who mattered right now. He met my stare, his sneer widening.
"Well, look who's here," he shouted, his voice dripping with condescension. "A cuckold and his merry band of handicaps. Adam, do you really think you can win with this group of losers?"
I didn't reply. Words were meaningless. I just let the rage I'd been suppressing boil to the surface. System, activate all combat skills.
A surge of power flowed through me. My muscles tensed, my senses sharpened. I charged.
"You can try as much as you want," he yelled as I closed the distance. "You'll never defeat me!"
He met my charge, and our first punches collided with a crack that echoed down the hall. We fell into a brutal rhythm of hand-to-hand combat. He was a skilled brawler, no doubt, but I was something else entirely. I had a library of fighting styles at my disposal. I flowed seamlessly from the hard, direct jabs and hooks of [Boxing Proficiency] to the swift, powerful kicks of [Taekwondo Proficiency], all while using the close-quarters control of [Normal Close Combat] to keep him off-balance.
He was having a hard time, his smug expression melting away into one of frustration as he struggled to block my relentless assault. He was fast and strong, but I was unpredictable. He'd brace for a punch to the face only to receive a snapping kick to the ribs. He'd move to block a kick and I'd be inside his guard, driving an elbow toward his chin.
"Now, I'm serious!" he snarled, finally shoving me back and creating some space. His hand darted inside his jacket and came out holding a wicked-looking combat knife.
The moment the steel was in his hand, his entire demeanor changed. He wasn't just a brawler anymore; he was a predator. His movements became more fluid, more economical, each step and slash designed for maximum lethality. He lunged, the knife a silver blur arcing towards my throat.
I dodged, the wind from the blade whispering past my ear. This was different. This was dangerous. He pressed the attack, a whirlwind of lethal strikes and swings. I was forced onto the defensive, giving ground, my focus entirely on tracking the tip of that blade.
But this time, I had come prepared.
While he was focused on a downward slash, I reached into the back of my waistband and my fingers closed around cool, hard metal. With a flick of my wrist, a foldable metal rod snapped open to its full length.
I parried his next strike with a loud clang of metal on metal, sparks flying between us. His eyes widened in surprise.
I activated [Weapon Expertise].
The feel of the rod in my hand changed. It was no longer just a piece of metal; it was an extension of my will. My swings became faster, more precise, more lethal. I was no longer just defending; I was attacking. The dance reversed. Now he was the one giving ground, his knife struggling to fend off the crushing blows from my rod.
I saw an opening. Faking a swing at his legs, I brought the rod up in a vicious arc and smashed it against the side of his head.
CRACK!
He staggered back, a hand flying to his temple, blood trickling through his fingers. He let out a furious scream. "I'll kill you, you son of a bitch!"
That was his mistake. He let his rage control him. My rage was a tool. That was his chance, and he'd wasted it. That was my chance.
I didn't give him a second to recover. I intensified my assault, a blur of motion and violence. The metal rod became a symphony of destruction. One swing, two, three, back and forth, a relentless barrage of ten consecutive strikes against his arms, his ribs, his head. He crumpled to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut, unconscious before he even finished falling.
But it wasn't enough. The rage, the years of pain and humiliation he and Lina had put me through, was still screaming inside me. I stood over his prone body, my chest heaving. With a savage kick, I drove my foot into his stomach. He gasped, his eyes fluttering open in a daze of pain.
Good. I wanted him awake for this.
I drew my leg back and kicked him squarely in the crotch with all my strength. A choked, agonizing sound escaped his lips. Then, I planted my foot on his face, grinding his cheek into the gritty linoleum floor. A strange, exhilarating feeling of ecstasy washed over me as I felt the bones in his face begin to give way under the pressure. He screamed, a raw, high-pitched shriek of pure agony.
I ignored it. The sound was music to my ears.
Finally, the red haze began to recede. I took my foot off his ruined face and took a deep, shuddering breath. I looked around.
"Someone tie him up!" I shouted to my guild. "The fight's not over yet!"