Yohan stumbled back a few steps, his body heavy, until he hit a bench for support. His left hand remained clamped firmly over his stomach, his chest heaving as he gasped for air—every breath a sharp reminder of the truck-like impact. But through his blurred vision, he saw the impossible: Yino was already pushing himself up from the floor, rising once more like a shadow that refused to vanish.
Yohan forced himself away from the bench, straightening his back with a grimace of pain. He stared at the Enforcer in disbelief, a chilling thought racing through his mind: "Does this guy even feel anything? After those brutal throws and bone-shattering slams... how is he still getting back up like it's nothing?"
Watching from the doorway, Kairin's eyes never left the two fighters. A cold, analytical thought ran through her mind: "Our Gang is divided into four distinct crews. But the Enforcer of the 1st Crew is on a completely different level than the others. In terms of raw power, his rank is No. 4 in the entire organization."
She looked at Yino, who was standing as if the floor hadn't just tried to swallow him. "Yino's durability isn't luck; he has undergone hellish training. His master is the one man whose physical strength and resilience are considered the absolute peak of the Gang. To Yino, pain is just another breath."
Yino looked straight at Yohan, a cold smirk playing on his lips. "You're burning through all your strength with these flashy throws," he mocked. "But to me? They feel like nothing more than a light breeze."
Kairin stood frozen, her mind a chaotic blur. She saw Yino completely misreading Yohan's intent, and the sheer brutality of this fight—happening right inside a school—was bound to bring disastrous consequences. In her desperation to end it, she made a fatal mistake.
She screamed out, "Yohan! Throws won't work on Yino! He's built to tank everything you toss at him. You have to use strikes or try something else!"
Yino froze, Kairin's words echoing in his ears like a betrayal. Why is she on the enemy's side? He realized then that protecting Kairin was a lost cause—she had clearly chosen her side. Yet, the weight of his Boss's orders still pressed heavily on his mind; he couldn't let his personal fury override the hierarchy of the Gang.
Yino's eyes narrowed as he looked at Yohan, but the person he saw now was a stranger. Yohan's slicked-back hair had fallen forward, cast into shadows that completely masked his gaze. Slowly, he unfurled his clenched fists, letting his hands hang loose and relaxed, while his right foot slid back to anchor himself into a deep, predatory stance.
A flicker of frustration crossed Yino's mind. "Damn it. "He cursed silently, "He's already sniffed out my weakness." But the hesitation lasted only a heartbeat. His eyes flared with a savage light as he steeled himself.
"Fine. But let's see how he handles my strikes. My fists aren't exactly for show either!"
In the next heartbeat, Yohan blurred. He covered six feet in a mere fraction of a second, launching a devastating punch aimed straight for Yino's face.
Yino didn't even have time to blink, let alone react. Frozen in shock, the only thing he saw before the impact was Yohan's eyes through the curtain of his hair. Those pale green eyes were glowing with a haunting, ethereal light.
A deathly silence fell over the classroom as everyone froze in their tracks, paralyzed by the sheer intensity of the moment. Standing at the doorway, Kairin felt a chill run down her spine as her heart hammered against her ribs. "There it is!" she whispered to herself in awe. "That's the same terrifying speed I saw last night!"
"Gotcha, " Yohan whispered, his voice cold and mocking.
In that split second, he launched a devastating Superman Punch that connected flush with Yino's chin. As the shockwave rattled Yino's brain, he began to lose his balance. But Yohan wasn't finished. Landing back on his feet with cat-like grace, he immediately uncoiled a savage Uppercut that slammed into Yino's jaw, nearly unhinging it with the sheer force of the blow.
Yino's lean frame was sent flying back, crashing into the teacher's desk before he slumped onto the floor, his body finally giving out. Yohan staggered back, his legs trembling as he clutched his head, the mental strain of the "Slayer" mode clearly taking its toll. With a shaky hand, he forced his hair back, trying to steady his vision.
Yino lay motionless, his athletic build finally defeated by Yohan's precision. Gasping for breath and clutching his bruised ribs, Yohan leaned heavily against a high bench, his body screaming in pain as the adrenaline began to fade.
Kairin rushed to Yohan's side, her face pale with worry. She reached out to steady him, her voice trembling as she whispered, "Yohan, are you in a lot of pain? Please... look at me. Look into my eyes."
From the other side of the classroom, the remaining crew members erupted in a savage fury. The shock of seeing their leader fall had turned into a murderous rage.
"The time has come!" one of them snarled, stepping forward as the others followed. "It's time to take revenge for Sir Yino. Don't let him leave this room alive!"
"Stay back, all of you!"
The sudden voice cut through the room like thunder. Yino was stirring, his voice raspy but cold. "Stay out of this... my turn isn't over yet."
Every eye in the room turned toward the sound, watching in stunned silence as Yino began to stir. It was a gruesome sight—his body was visibly trembling from the trauma of the impact, every muscle straining as he forced himself up from the floor. Through sheer, agonizing effort, he began to claw his way back to his feet, refusing to stay down.
Yohan and Kairin both turned their gaze toward the struggling Yino. But as the chaos reached its boiling point, something inside Kairin finally snapped. She couldn't take the mindless violence anymore.
"Enough!"
She roared, her voice cutting through the room like a jagged knife. "Don't you dare move—anyone! If a single person steps out of line, there will be hell to pay!"
But Yino didn't stop. He ignored her command entirely, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he continued to force himself upright. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice strained and hollow, "but I didn't quite catch that. I'm not fighting for you... I'm fighting for the Boss."
But the victory was short-lived. Just as Yino managed to pull himself upright, his legs buckled beneath him once more. The strength he had desperately clawed back vanished in an instant, and with a heavy thud, he collapsed back onto his knees, his body finally surrendering to the damage.
Shock rippled through the room, leaving everyone breathless—even Kairin. She had known all along that Yino's iron-clad loyalty to her brother would make him deaf to her pleas. But seeing him now, a man of such legendary endurance, desperately trying to rise and failing—her mind couldn't process it. The realization hit her like a physical blow: Yohan hadn't just fought Yino; he had fundamentally broken the "Unbreakable Tank."
Finally, Yohan let out a long, ragged breath. He slowly lowered his hand from his bruised ribs and turned fully toward Yino, his eyes locking onto his fallen opponent. A single, heavy thought echoed in his mind: "Finally... I actually managed to bring him down."
Straightening his posture, Yohan let out a series of sharp cracks from his joints, stretching his aching body. He looked down at Yino, a grim thought crossing his mind: "No one has ever pushed me this hard before. He was a real problem."
Suddenly, a man of imposing presence stepped into the room. He was dressed in a pristine white suit—white shirt, white blazer, and white trousers—sharply contrasted by a rich brown belt and polished brown leather boots. A deep purple tie hung perfectly at his collar, and on his left wrist, a brown leather-strapped watch gleamed under the classroom lights.
The moment he stepped in, the atmosphere shattered. Every student, including the aggressive crew members, snapped to attention. They scrambled back to their places, heads bowed in a mix of respect and pure terror.
"Good morning, HM Sir!" they chorused in unison, their voices trembling as they tried to hide the chaos of the room.
The Headmaster didn't waste a single breath on questions. He didn't look at the shattered desks or the blood on the floor. His gaze was cold and direct as he spoke, his voice carrying an undeniable weight.
"The two of you," he said, his tone flat but absolute. "My office. Now."