Samuel didn't smile back. He grabbed the water without another word, pouring it carefully over the wound. The moment the liquid touched the torn flesh, Newton's body tensed.
A sharp breath escaped him. But he didn't pull away. Didn't make a sound. Samuel watched him closely. "You might need to go to the clinic."
Newton shook his head immediately. Too quickly. "Not now." His jaw tightened. "It's too risky. The wound is still dripping."
Samuel paused, and looked at him. Then at the wound again. He didn't argue further. Not because he agreed. But because he understood. If Newton stepped into the clinic like this, questions would come. And questions led to attention. The wrong kind.
Samuel pressed the cloth harder against the wound, slowing the flow of blood. His movements were careful but firm, tying the white cloth tightly around Newton's arm.
The fabric soaked slowly. Red spreading through white. When he finished, he stepped back. Newton moved toward the bed, slowly. Like each step had weight behind it.
He sat first. Then lay back. His body sank into the mattress, but there was no comfort in it. His face had lost its earlier color. His breathing had changed.
He looked tired.nToo tired. But he didn't fight it. Didn't try to stay awake. Exhaustion came down on him like something heavy. His eyes closed.
And just like that, sleep took him.
Morning didn't feel like morning. It felt like a continuation. Newton's eyes opened slowly. The first thing he felt was pain.
Sharp, and Deep.
His arm throbbed like something alive had settled into it overnight. He inhaled sharply. His body shifted slightly on the bed.
Bad idea.
The movement sent another wave of pain through him. Stronger this time. His jaw clenched. He pushed himself up anyway.
Slowly, and carefully. Samuel was already awake. Watching him. "You shouldn't go today." Newton didn't answer immediately..He reached for his clothes. Pulled them over the bandaged arm with slow, controlled movements.
Every touch hurt. Every adjustment pulled at the wound. But he didn't stop. Didn't hesitate. By the time he was done, the injury was hidden.
No one would see it. That was the point. They walked to the lecture hall together..The morning air was cool. Too calm.
Inside, something else was happening. Theo and his men were already there. Spread out. Watching. Their eyes moved over every student that walked in.
Careful, and deliberate.
Searching for the one who got injury on his shoulders.
Newton stepped in with Samuel. His posture was straight. His face was calm. His breathing was even. Nothing about him gave anything away. Not the stiffness in his arm. Not the way his shoulder held just slightly tighter than normal. Not the pain that sat beneath his skin, waiting.
Theo's gaze passed over him once. Then again. Lingering just a fraction longer.nThen moved on.
Newton walked to his seat, and sat down slowly, and controlled.
It worked. No one noticed. No one noticed the injury. Not the discomfort. But inside, itwas different. The pain didn't stay quiet, it grew.
Minute by minute. Like something tightening around the bone. He clenched his teeth. Hard.
The lecture went on. Voices filled the room. Words. Concepts. Explanations. None of it reached him. None of it stayed. All he could hear was the pulse in his arm. All he could feel was the steady burn spreading deeper.
His fingers curled slightly under the desk. His nails pressed into his palm. "End this lectur." The thought repeated. Over and over. "Please."
His breathing grew heavier. Not enough to draw attention. But enough that he felt it. The seconds dragged. Each one longer than the last.
Then, the bell rang. The sound cut through everything. Sharp, clear, and final.
Newton exhaled. Slow, careful. Like if he rushed it, something would snap. Students began to move. Chairs shifted. Voices rose again.
Normal, and casual. He stood. Just like everyone else. Rebecca waved from across the room.
Bright, and unaware. Newton forced a smile.
Small, but enough. Then he turned away. While the others moved toward the restaurant, laughing, talking, and planning their next meal, Newton walked in the opposite direction.
Straight, and focused. To the clinic.
The nurse didn't ask questions. Not when he walked in. Not when she saw the blood. Not when she unwrapped the cloth. Her silence was a relief.mA quiet one. She cleaned the wound carefully.
Efficient, and professional. Newton watched her hands. Not her face. Not the room. Just the process. It helped a little.
When she finished, the bandage was tighter. Cleaner, and safer. Newton pulled his clothes back over it.bHiding it again. Like it had never been there. Like nothing had happened. He stepped out of the clinic the same way he had walked in.
Composed, steady, and unbothered. To anyone watching, there was nothing to see. And so, for Theo and his men, the mystery remained unknown. The face remained hidden.
The next evening, the room was quiet again. Samuel and Newton sat inside. No words. No need.
Then a flicker. The blue screen popped up in front of his eyes.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION.
Newton's eyes lifted instantly.
TASK ALERT.
His breathing steadied.
Focused.
ROPE CLIMBING.
REWARD: ONE CPD POINT.
TIME ALLOWED: ONE HOUR, TWENTY MINUTES.
YOUR TIME STARTS NOW.
Newton turned his head. It net Samuel's eyes. No words.nNone needed. They moved at the same time. Off the bed. Out the door. Running fast. Towards the arena. It came into view quickly.
Students were already gathering. Ropes hung from the ground to the high roof. Long, and endless.
Waiting.
Newton looked up. The height stretched far above him. Farther than it should have. Then, at his his wrist.
TIME REMAINING: ONE HOUR, SIXTEEN MINUTES, FIFTEEN SECONDS.
His chest tightened. No time to waste. He grabbed a rope.bHis grip was firm.nThen he started climbing.nOthers followed. Hands reached for ropes. Feet pushed. Bodies lifted.
The arena filled with movement, and screams. Newton climbed fast, and controlled. Ignoring the pain burning in his shoulder.
But the pain didn't ignore him. It came back. Sharp, and immediate. His shoulder screamed with every pull. The wound still fresh. Still fragile. But he didn't stop. It didn't slow.
Time. That was all that mattered. He kept climbing. Higher, and higher. His breath grew heavier. His muscles strained. At some point, the wound gave. A small tear. Then, warmth. His blood spread all over his body, soaking into his shirt.
He felt it. He didn't look.nHe didn't need to. His eyes stayed forward.
Then, the screen shifted.
TIME REMAINING: 40 MINUTES, 10 SECONDS.
His chest tightened. "Time is slipping away." The thought hit hard. He climbed faster. Ignoring the burn.nIgnoring the pain.
When he reached the top, he didn't rest. He didn't pause. His eyes dropped immediately to his wrist.
TIME REMAINING: 27 MINUTES, TWO SECONDS.
His heart pounded harder. "I do not have enough time." The words slipped under his breath. "I must hurry."
He grabbed the rope again. And began descending. Fast.
The rope burned slightly against his palms. His body dropped. Controlled, but urgent.
Then, a drop of blood from his shoulder fell, and landed on someone below.
Franklin.
He stopped. His head tilted slightly. His hand lifted. Touched the drop. His fingers came away stained.
He looked up. His eyes narrowed. Focused. Locked.
And there, another drop of blood fell. He saw it. The arm. The movement. The angle. His mind flashed.
Two nights ago. The fight. The strike from Theo om the assassin's shoulders.
The same place. The same side. T
His breath slowed. "He is the assassin." The words came out low. Almost lost in the noise.bBut real, and certain.
Above, Newton kept descending faster. His shirt now soaked. Heavy with blood. His grip tightened. His breathing rough.
Then, his feet hit the ground. Hard.
His body swayed slightly. But he stayed upright. For a second. Then, his eyes dropped to his wrist.
TIME REMAINING: 10 SECONDS.
He exhaled. Relief hit him all at once. "I made it." His voice barely held. His body gave way, and he collapsed to the ground in relief.
The ground met him fast. His chest rose, and fell.
Then, q voice cut through the arena. Loud, and clear.
"Guys, I know who the mysterious assassin is." Newton's head snapped up instinctively.
His body moved before the pain could stop him. He pushed himself up, and stood. His eyes locked onto Theo.
Theo was breathing hard. But there was something else in his expression now.
"Who?" Theo roared.
The word tore out of him. Louder than it should have been. Franklin stepped forward. His hand lifted, and pointed.
Everyone followed the direction. And saw, It was Newton. His heart slammed against his ribs.