Last Night — Ironfall Academy
The night felt unusually lively.
Normally, most classrooms would have been empty by this hour. Students would have already gone home, teachers would have finished their work, and the hallways would have been quiet. Tonight, however, Ironfall Academy looked completely different.
One of the largest classrooms in the entire building remained brightly illuminated.
The room itself was far larger than an ordinary classroom. Ironfall Academy had always been known as one of the wealthiest schools in the city, and the difference was obvious in nearly every corner. The polished tiled floors reflected the lights overhead, expensive projectors hung from the ceiling, and even the desks looked newer than those found in most schools.
Tonight, though, none of those things mattered.
The desks had been pushed against the walls to create space.
The chairs had been arranged in a large circle at the center of the room, and nearly every seat was occupied.
Students from Ironfall Academy sat alongside students from Blackridge Academy. The last tournament had created a strange situation neither school had expected.
For one night, rivals had become companions.
Laughter echoed throughout the room while multiple conversations overlapped with one another. Some students discussed upcoming examinations, others debated rankings, and many simply enjoyed the opportunity to meet people from another academy.
One Ironfall student threw his head back dramatically.
"I haven't even started studying."
Several students burst into laughter.
"You say that every year."
"No seriously," he replied while shaking his head. "This time I'm finished. Mathematics is actually going to kill me."
A Blackridge student leaned comfortably against his chair.
"Forget mathematics."
He pointed toward another group sitting nearby.
"You should be talking about the last tournament between Ironfall Academy & Blackridge."
Immediately, several students turned toward him.
The last tournament, The topic everybody wanted to discuss.
The Tournament That Decided the strongest B rank in the City.
Daniel & Mark.
Those two names dominated conversations in both schools.
An Ironfall student folded his arms.
"Honestly, academics aren't enough in this city anymore."
Several students nodded in agreement.
Everyone understood exactly what he meant.
This city was different from most places.
People became ranked, Fighters gained influence,Strength carried value.
Sometimes even more value than education.
One Blackridge student laughed.
"Tell that to my parents."
"They'd rather see me become a doctor than a fighter."
Another student immediately joined in.
"My father says the opposite."
Everyone looked toward him. He shrugged.
"He keeps saying that if you can't defend yourself, nothing else matters."
The discussion continued naturally as students shared stories about their families and expectations. The atmosphere remained relaxed, and for a while nobody seemed interested in arguing.
Near one side of the circle, Max sat quietly beside Casey.
Unlike most students, Max wasn't participating much in the conversations. He sat calmly with both hands resting on his knees while observing everyone around him.
Casey, meanwhile, looked far more engaged.
She balanced her chair slightly backward while listening to multiple conversations at the same time.
Her twin ponytails swayed whenever she moved her head.
A group of Ironfall students had gradually gathered around them during the evening.
One of the students smiled.
"So you're really from Blackridge?"
Casey nodded.
"Obviously."
The student laughed before turning toward Max.
"You don't talk much, do you?"
Max blinked once,Then he shrugged.
"I talk."
Casey immediately laughed.
"Only when necessary."
The group chuckled.
The atmosphere remained comfortable.
Nobody felt awkward around them.
Eventually, another conversation began shifting toward a different topic.
A topic that immediately attracted attention.
One Ironfall student leaned forward slightly.
"Speaking of weird schools..."
Several nearby students looked toward him.
"What?"
The boy lowered his voice slightly.
"You know Nameless School?"
The reactions were immediate.
Nobody laughed,Nobody interrupted.
The room simply grew quieter.
Everyone had heard that name before.
Most people treated it as a rumor, or a story.
Something mysterious.
One Blackridge student frowned.
"You mean that abandoned school?"
The boy nodded.
"Yeah."
"I heard something terrible happened there six years ago."
Several students exchanged glances.
The details of the story changed depending on who told it.
Some claimed there had been a massacre, A B rank was murdered by a 10 years old student.
Nobody knew the truth.
What everybody agreed on, this was most likely true, but no one knows who did it.
The student continued.
"After that, the place got abandoned."
"And even now people avoid it."
Another student nodded.
"My older brother told me some former students still live there."
The atmosphere shifted slightly.
"They're supposed to be dangerous & No normal person goes there."
A third student suddenly laughed.
The sound was louder than necessary, confident & arrogant.
"Seriously?"
He looked around the room.
"You're all scared of some Nameless School bums?"
Several students laughed alongside him.
The boy leaned back comfortably.
"We've got Blackridge helping us now."
He pointed toward several students sitting nearby.
"We have Max, Wayne & Chris."
His grin widened.
"Well, we used to have Henry, He's gone now."
A few students laughed.
"Besides, Blackridge has Daniel, Alan and those idiots Bob, Andrew, and Coner."
Another student immediately added.
"They had Jack too."
Casey rolled her eyes the moment she heard that name.
"I'm glad Jack's gone."
Several students looked toward her.
One of them laughed.
"He bothered girls too?"
Casey snorted.
"When did he ever spare anybody?"
That answer caused another wave of laughter.
Even some Blackridge students nodded in agreement.
Jack had managed to annoy nearly everyone.
Then someone asked casually,
"What about you?"
Casey raised an eyebrow.
"What about me?"
The student grinned.
"Did Jack ever bother you?"
Casey crossed her arms.
"I was fine."
A small smile appeared on her face.
"Max protected me."
The conversation suddenly stalled.
Several students looked at Casey.
Then at Max.
Then back at Casey again.
The confusion was obvious.
Jack had been A-Rank.
Max was publicly known as E-Rank.
The comparison made absolutely no sense.
One student opened his mouth as if to question it.
Then thought better of it.
Eventually another student waved the topic away.
"Whatever."
His grin returned.
"What I'm saying is this."
"If Nameless School ever came after us, we'd crush them."
Several students immediately agreed.
The confidence spread quickly.
After all, they weren't alone.
They had strong fighters.
What exactly was there to fear?
Unfortunately, not everyone in the room shared that confidence.
In the far corner of the classroom sat someone nobody had paid much attention to all evening.
A young man wearing a black hoodie.
He hadn't participated in any conversation.
Hadn't laughed.
Hadn't introduced himself.
For hours, he had simply sat there quietly and listened.
Watching, Observing.
Then, without warning, he stood up.
The laughter gradually faded.
One conversation stopped, then another.
Soon the entire room had gone silent.
Every eye turned toward him.
Slowly, he reached up and pulled back his hood.
Dark hair fell around his face.
His features looked ordinary enough at first glance, yet there was something unsettling about his eyes.
They felt cold, Detached.
As though he were looking at people he didn't particularly care about.
The student who had mocked Nameless School frowned.
"Who are you?"
The hoodie-wearing boy looked directly at him.
Then he spoke, His voice was calm,Almost emotionless.
"You're full of yourselves."
The classroom fell silent.
Nobody laughed,nobody interrupted.
The stranger continued.
"Do you really think Nameless School is afraid of some students enjoying their lives?"
Several students exchanged confused looks.
The sudden interruption had caught everyone off guard.
Casey quietly placed one hand on Max's arm.
Max's eyes narrowed slightly.
Something about the atmosphere no longer felt right.
One Ironfall student stood up and approached the stranger.
He tried to appear confident.
"Hey."
The boy pointed at him.
"Hoodie guy,You from Blackridge?"
The stranger didn't answer.
The student smirked.
"What do you mean Nameless School isn't afraid of us?"
A brief pause followed.
Then he added,
"Are you scared of them or something?"
A few students laughed.
The stranger remained completely expressionless.
"My name is George."
The laughter faded.
"And for your information..."
His eyes slowly moved across the room.
"I'm not from Blackridge."
The student laughed awkwardly.
"Yeah, no kidding."
"If you were Ironfall, you'd be wearing our uniform."
A few others joined in.
George patiently waited for the laughter to die down.
Then he finished his sentence.
"I'm from Nameless School."
The room froze, Nobody laughed.
The student standing in front of George blinked twice, almost expecting him to smile and admit it had been a joke.
"...Wait."
His confident expression began to fade.
"You're serious?"
George simply nodded once.
The student instinctively took half a step backward before forcing an awkward laugh.
"That's... creepy."
A few others laughed with him, though none of them sounded convinced.
"So you've been sitting here this whole time?"
"Just listening to us?"
George didn't answer immediately.
His emotionless eyes slowly swept across the room, studying every face as though memorizing them.
Eventually, he spoke.
"You people are interesting."
His voice remained calm.
"But we're different from you."
The Ironfall student frowned.
"And what exactly can you do?"
He spread his arms dramatically, trying to regain the confidence he had lost.
"There are dozens of us."
His grin returned.
"You're alone."
At that exact moment, the classroom door slid open.
Chris walked inside first.
Wayne followed a moment later.
Several students immediately greeted them.
"There you guys are."
"We thought you weren't coming."
Chris smiled faintly before glancing around the room.
"What happened?"
Wayne noticed the unfamiliar face standing near the center of the classroom.
"I haven't seen him before."
One of the students pointed toward George.
"Oh...He's from Nameless School."
Chris raised an eyebrow.
Another student laughed nervously.
"He got offended because we were making fun of that place."
The moment the words left his mouth, Wayne's expression changed.
His relaxed posture disappeared almost instantly.
His eyes locked onto George.
"...Nameless School?"
He immediately took a step forward.
"Hey."
His voice became sharper.
"Get away from—"
Too late.
A metallic flash cut across the room.
Nobody even realized George had moved, except Wayne.
One moment he was standing still.
The next, a dagger had already buried itself deep into the Ironfall student's side, slipping between his ribs before anyone had time to react.
The student's eyes widened.
His mouth opened.
For a brief second, no sound came out.
Then pain overwhelmed him. "AAAAAGH!!"
His scream echoed throughout the classroom.
George calmly pulled the dagger free.
Blood followed immediately, splattering across the polished floor.
The wounded student collapsed onto his knees, both hands desperately pressing against the wound as blood seeped through his fingers.
The entire classroom froze..Nobody moved.
Nobody understood what had just happened.
George casually wiped the blade against the sleeve of his hoodie.
His expression never changed.
It was as though stabbing someone inside a classroom meant nothing to him.
Then chaos erupted,Several girls screamed.
Students shoved their chairs aside while backing away from George as quickly as possible.
Others rushed toward the injured boy.
Casey was the first to reach him.
"Move!"
She pushed through the crowd before dropping onto one knee beside him.
Blood continued pouring from the wound.
"Damn it..."
She looked around frantically before grabbing a nearby cloth and pressing it firmly against his side.
"Keep pressure on it!"
The injured student trembled violently.
His breathing became uneven.
One girl immediately reached for her phone.
"Call an ambulance!"
Another student shouted from the opposite side of the room.
"And the police!"
Within seconds, the peaceful gathering had turned into complete panic.
Only George remained calm.
Chris stared silently at the blood spreading across the floor.
His gaze shifted toward the trembling student before returning to George.
His fists slowly tightened.
"This bastard..."
George looked toward him with complete indifference.
Chris began walking forward.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
He finally stopped several feet away.
"You think this is funny?"
George tilted his head slightly, "No."
That single answer only made Chris angrier.
Without another word, he exploded forward.
His fist shot directly toward George's face with tremendous speed.
The punch was fast enough to make several nearby students gasp.
George leaned sideways.
Chris's fist missed by mere inches, the wind from the strike brushing across George's cheek.
George immediately retaliated.
His leg whipped toward Chris's stomach.
Chris reacted just in time, raising his forearm to block the kick.
Even so, the impact forced him backward several steps.
His eyes narrowed.
"You've got some power."
George ignored the comment.
Chris rushed forward again.
This time he reached toward George's knife arm, hoping to disarm him before the dagger could be used again.
George understood exactly what he was trying to do.
His wrist remained in constant motion, never allowing Chris a proper grip.
Chris clicked his tongue in frustration.
His right fist shot forward once more.
This time it connected.
George's head snapped slightly to the side.
Several students gasped.
Chris refused to give him time to recover.
Another punch followed immediately.
Then another.
He kept pressing forward, forcing George backward across the classroom.
For the first time, George's expression shifted ever so slightly.
He twisted his body.
The dagger flashed through the air.
Chris suddenly felt a sharp burning sensation across his left arm.
He instinctively jumped backward.
A long cut stretched across his sleeve.
Blood slowly seeped through the torn fabric.
Chris glanced down for only a fraction of a second.
That brief distraction was enough.
George stepped inside his guard.
His fist slammed directly into Chris's face.
THUD!
Chris staggered backward.
Before he could regain his balance, a second punch crashed into his jaw.
A third strike landed squarely against his chest, launching him several meters across the room.
His body smashed into a row of chairs.
The chairs scattered in every direction before Chris finally came to a stop at Wayne's feet.
Silence filled the classroom.
Chris slowly pushed himself onto one elbow.
A bruise had already begun forming beneath his left eye.
Wayne looked down at him,Then sighed.
"Seriously?"
Even he looked surprised.
Chris wasn't weak, but like.. he's disappointed in him
George had defeated him far more quickly than anyone expected.
George casually spun the dagger around one finger before catching it again.
"Disappointed?"
Nobody answered.
George looked around the room.
"According to the city's ranking system..."
He slowly raised the dagger.
"I'm B-Rank."
The words spread through the classroom like wildfire.
"B-Rank?"
"A real B-Rank?"
"So that's why..."
Students began whispering among themselves.
George watched their reactions with quiet satisfaction.
Then he smiled faintly.
"The funny part..."
His eyes grew noticeably colder.
"I'm considered one of the lowest-ranked people at Nameless School Currently."
Every whisper stopped.
Fear quietly settled across the room.
Several students unconsciously stepped farther away from him.
Wayne slowly walked towards him.
His expression had become completely serious.
"So you're B-Rank..."
He rolled one shoulder before cracking his knuckles.
"That explains a lot."
George turned toward him.
Wayne lowered his stance into a balanced fighting position.
"I'm technically still C-Rank, Until We Update The Ranks again."
He smiled confidently.
"But rankings don't decide everything."
George chuckled.
"You sound confident."
Wayne's grin widened.
"I am."
Neither of them moved for several seconds.
The tension inside the classroom became almost unbearable.
Then Wayne suddenly exploded forward.
His kick sliced through the air with remarkable speed.
George barely avoided it by leaning backward.
The sole of Wayne's shoe passed only inches from his face.
George immediately retaliated.
The dagger slashed toward Wayne's leg.
Wayne pulled his foot back just before the blade reached him.
He answered with a straight punch toward George's jaw.
George blocked it using the flat side of the dagger.
The impact forced both fighters backward.
Students watched with wide eyes.
This battle looked completely different from George's fight against Chris.
Wayne's movements were cleaner and sharper,
Much more disciplined.
Wayne stepped forward again and threw A punch.
George blocked it.
A kick followed immediately.
George dodged to the side.
Wayne spun into another strike.
George slipped underneath it.
The two exchanged attacks rapidly, each forcing the other to defend.
For a brief moment, they appeared evenly matched.
Then George's experience finally showed.
He caught Wayne's wrist.
Twisted his arm.
And drove the dagger deep into Wayne's thigh.
Wayne's eyes widened in pain.
Before he could react, George planted his foot against Wayne's chest and kicked with all his strength.
CRASH!!
Wayne's body flew backward.
The classroom window shattered instantly.
Glass exploded outward into the night.
Wayne disappeared through the broken window.
A second later, the sound of his body striking the ground echoed from outside the building.
The entire classroom fell silent once again.
The silence inside the classroom felt suffocating.
Nobody moved.
Nobody even dared to breathe too loudly.
The shattered remains of the window allowed the cold night air to pour into the room, carrying the sound of distant students screaming outside after witnessing someone fall from the first floor.
Several students instinctively rushed toward the broken window.
One boy carefully leaned over the frame before immediately pulling his head back.
"H-He's alive!"
His voice trembled.
"He landed on the grass... but he's not moving!"
A collective sigh of relief escaped many students, but the fear never left their faces.
Wayne had survived, barely.
George lowered his leg and calmly brushed a few tiny pieces of glass from his sleeve as though he had simply kicked over a chair instead of throwing someone through a window.
He looked toward the broken window for a brief moment before letting out a quiet breath.
"No doubt," he said calmly. "He was good."
His gaze drifted back toward the classroom.
"But without this dagger..."
He slowly raised the blade until the classroom lights reflected across its polished surface.
"...I probably wouldn't have beaten him that easily."
No one answered.
Most of the students were still staring at the broken window while others remained frozen where they stood.
The confidence that had filled the room earlier that evening had completely disappeared.
George slowly turned his attention toward everyone present.
His cold eyes wandered across the frightened faces one after another.
Some students avoided making eye contact.
Others unconsciously stepped backward.
Even those who still wanted to fight found themselves hesitating.
George gave a small nod, almost as though their reactions had met his expectations.
"Do you understand now?"
His voice remained calm, yet every word echoed clearly throughout the classroom.
"Look at yourselves."
He pointed the dagger toward the gathered students.
"Only a little while ago you were laughing."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"You mocked Nameless School."
"You talked about how easily you would crush us."
A faint smile slowly appeared across his face.
"Now none of you can even look me in the eyes."
Nobody spoke,the only sounds inside the room were the uneven breaths of frightened students and the distant cries coming from outside the academy.
George took another slow step forward.
"You people live comfortable lives."
His voice carried neither hatred nor jealousy.
It sounded more like disappointment.
"You wake up every morning, attend classes, complain about homework, worry about examinations, argue over tournament rankings, and then return home to your families."
His grip around the dagger tightened slightly.
"You call that hardship."
He took another step.
"But at Nameless School..."
His expression gradually became colder.
"We don't have that luxury."
"We don't survive because someone protects us."
"We survive because we learn to become stronger than the people trying to kill us."
His eyes slowly swept across the classroom once more.
"And you call us pushovers?"
One of the Blackridge students suddenly shouted in frustration.
"Oh, shut up!"
He grabbed a nearby chair with both hands and hurled it toward George with all his strength.
The chair spun through the air.
George calmly bent his knees.
The chair flew over his head before smashing violently against the wall behind him.
George glanced over his shoulder at the chair before looking back at the student.
"That was disappointing."
His voice remained completely emotionless.
The student instinctively took a step backward.
George started walking toward him.
His footsteps echoed across the classroom floor.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
Students continued retreating until their backs met the walls.
Some looked desperately toward the classroom door.
Others glanced toward the broken window.
Neither escape seemed possible anymore.
Among everyone present—
Only one person stepped forward instead of backward,it was Casey.
She walked past the frightened students until she stood directly between George and the injured classmates behind her.
Her heartbeat pounded violently inside her chest.
Her legs felt weak, Every instinct told her to run.
Yet she remained standing.
George stopped walking, His eyes settled on her.
For several long seconds, neither of them spoke.
Finally, Casey broke the silence.
"That's enough."
Her voice trembled slightly, but she forced herself to continue.
"You've already hurt enough people."
George tilted his head.
"Have I?"
"You stabbed one student...You defeated Chris."
"You threw Wayne out the window."
Casey clenched her fists.
"Stop this."
George stared at her quietly before letting out a soft laugh.
The sound carried no amusement.
"What exactly are you planning to do?"
Casey didn't answer.
She simply continued standing in front of everyone else.
George glanced beyond her toward the frightened students she was protecting.
"You know..."
He looked back at Casey.
"I've seen people like you before, they're always brave."
His faint smile disappeared.
"Until the blade reaches them."
Casey swallowed nervously.
She refused to move.
George watched her for another moment before speaking again.
"Are you scared?"
Casey hesitated.
She could feel her heartbeat inside her throat.
Her palms had become soaked with sweat.
She knew she was terrified.
But after everything that had happened...
After watching Wayne disappear through that window...
She couldn't bring herself to step aside.
Finally she answered.
"Maybe, but that doesn't matter."
George raised an eyebrow.
Casey's voice became firmer.
"I'm not letting you hurt anyone else."
A strange smile appeared on George's face.
It wasn't mocking, he almost looked impressed.
"Interesting."
He slowly adjusted his grip around the dagger.
"I was wondering if someone here still had any courage left."
He lowered his stance slightly.
"Since you've volunteered..."
His eyes became sharp once more.
"I'll start with you."
The moment the final word left his mouth—
George lift his arm.
Several students screamed.
The dagger flashed beneath the classroom lights as it lunged directly toward Casey's chest.
Casey's body refused to move.
Her mind screamed at her to dodge,To run, to do something.
But fear rooted her feet to the floor.
The blade came closer, even Closer.
Only inches remained.
Suddenly—
A figure stepped in front of her.
SCHK!
The sound of metal piercing flesh echoed throughout the silent classroom.
George's eyes widened slightly.
Casey's breathing stopped.
For a brief moment...
Neither of them understood what had happened.
Then Casey saw him.
"Max..."
He stood directly in front of her.
The dagger had pierced deep into the left side of his ribs.
Blood immediately soaked through his uniform.
Dark red spread rapidly across the fabric before dripping onto the classroom floor beneath him.
Casey's face lost all color.
"MAX!!"
George stared at him in disbelief.
"What...?"
Even he hadn't expected someone to willingly step in front of the attack.
Max lowered his eyes toward the blade buried inside his body.
His expression barely changed.
George clicked his tongue before pulling the dagger back out.
Blood followed immediately.
Max staggered slightly.
His knees nearly gave way.
But somehow—
He remained standing.
Casey grabbed him before he could collapse.
"What were you thinking?!"
Tears had already begun gathering in her eyes.
"Why would you do something so stupid?!"
Max slowly turned his head toward her.
His face had become noticeably pale from the blood loss.
Even speaking seemed difficult.
Still—
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Why...?"
His voice came out weak and tired.
"Did you already forget?"
Casey froze.
The words brought back memories she had never truly forgotten.
The countless times bullies cornered her, or at Blackridge, At the Chaos, From Jack.
And the times everyone else stayed silent.
And every single time—
Max stepped in front of her.
Even when he knew he couldn't win.
Even when he knew he would get hurt.
He always stood between her and danger.
Just like he had done now.
Tears rolled freely down Casey's cheeks.
"You idiot..."
She gripped his shirt tightly.
"You never learn..."
Max's body swayed unsteadily.
The blood loss was beginning to catch up to him. His breathing became noticeably heavier, and the hand Casey had wrapped around his shoulder gradually became stained red.
George watched the two of them in silence.
For a brief moment, even he seemed uncertain.
"...One after another," he muttered quietly.
He spun the dagger once before wiping the blood from its blade against the sleeve of his hoodie.
"So annoying."
His eyes slowly drifted back toward Casey.
She was still kneeling beside Max, supporting his weight while trying to keep him standing.
George's patience finally disappeared.
"Move."
Casey didn't even look at him.
Instead, she pressed one hand firmly against Max's wound in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding.
"Casey..." Max whispered weakly.
She shook her head.
"Don't talk."
George's voice became colder.
"I said move."
Still, she refused to acknowledge him.
George let out a slow sigh.
"So that's your answer."
He raised the dagger once more.
"If you want to die beside him..."
His feet exploded forward.
"...then I'll grant your wish."
Several students screamed.
Chris tried to stand despite the pain coursing through his body.
"Casey!!"
His legs gave out before he could even take two steps.
George closed the distance in an instant.
The dagger shot toward Casey.
She instinctively tightened her grip around Max.
If she moved now...
The people behind her would become his next targets.
She shut her eyes.
Then—
BOOM!!
A deafening impact exploded throughout the classroom.
The sound was unlike anything they had heard before.
It wasn't the sound of a punch.
It wasn't the sound of furniture breaking.
It sounded as though something impossibly heavy had collided with solid concrete.
The shockwave swept across the room.
The fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling flickered.
George's body flew sideways.
He crashed into the classroom wall with enough force to crack the concrete behind him
For several seconds...
Nobody understood what had happened.
George groaned as he slowly pushed himself away from the wall.
His entire body ached.
His vision blurred slightly.
"What..."
He coughed.
"...the hell...?"
His eyes slowly lifted.
The classroom had become silent.
Terrifyingly silent.
Every student stood frozen in place.
Nobody was looking at George anymore.
Every pair of eyes was fixed on someone else.
George followed their gaze.
His expression froze.
Max.
He was standing again.
Casey had instinctively stepped backward after the impact, leaving him standing completely on his own.
Blood continued dripping steadily from the wound beneath his ribs.
The injury hadn't disappeared.
His clothes remained soaked.
His left hand still hung limply by his side.
Yet...
He stood perfectly straight.
Completely motionless, almost unnaturally so.
His head tilted slightly to one side, and his face showed no pain.
No anger or fear.
No emotion whatsoever.
George frowned.
"...What?"
The temperature inside the classroom suddenly seemed to fall.
A strange white mist slowly drifted around Max's body.
At first it resembled steam rising from hot pavement after rainfall.
Then it became denser, enough for others to notice.
It curled around his arms before slowly spreading across his body.
Several students instinctively backed away.
One girl dropped her phone onto the floor without even realizing it.
Chris remained sitting where he had fallen.
His eyes had widened more than ever before.
"...No way..."
Casey's breathing became uneven.
She had seen this once....Only once.
Months ago during Jack's attack.
Back then she hadn't understood what she was witnessing.
Now...
The same thing was happening again.
Max slowly lifted his head.
His eyes opened.
Casey's heart nearly stopped.
His pupils were gone.
Both eyes had turned completely white.
Not cloudy or blind but pure white.
As though every trace of humanity had disappeared from them.
George instinctively took a step backward.
His grip around the dagger tightened.
"What kind of..."
His voice sounded uncertain for the first time since entering the classroom.
"...What kind of freak are you?"
Max didn't answer.
He simply stared.
The pressure filled the room, students felt it without understanding it.
Their breathing became heavier.
George gritted his teeth.
"...Fine."
He forced himself to straighten his posture.
"Whatever trick this is..."
He pointed the dagger toward Max.
"It doesn't change anything."
His voice became louder.
"I'll kill you properly this time."
He exploded forward once again.
This time he didn't hesitate.
He aimed directly for Max's heart.
The dagger flashed toward his chest.
Casey instinctively shouted.
"MAX!"
The blade reached him.
George thrust with everything he had.
Then...
It stopped.
George blinked.
His arm refused to move another inch.
He looked downward.
Max had caught the blade.
With his bare hand.
The dagger had pierced completely through his palm.
Its tip protruded from the other side.
Blood slowly trickled down the blade before dripping onto the floor.
Yet Max's expression never changed.
He didn't even blink.
George instinctively tried pulling the dagger back.
It wouldn't move.
"What...?"
He pulled harder, but Nothing happened.
Max's fingers slowly tightened around the blade.
Crunch.
The metallic sound echoed throughout the classroom.
The steel itself groaned beneath the pressure.
George's heartbeat accelerated.
He pulled again.
"Let go!"
But it didn't work.
The blade only sank deeper into Max's palm.
The wound widened.
Blood flowed more heavily.
Still...
There wasn't the slightest reaction.
No flinch or pain, just nothing.
Max slowly took a single step forward.
George's breathing became uneven.
For the first time...
Fear appeared on his face.
George frowned and tried to pull the dagger back.
It didn't move.
Max hadn't pulled his hand away.
Instead, he pushed his own left hand farther forward.
The blade tore deeper through his palm, blood streaming down his wrist, yet not a single change appeared on his face. It was as though the pain meant nothing to him.
George stared in disbelief.
"What...?"
Max's blood-soaked hand continued sliding along the blade until his fingers reached George's wrist.
Then they closed around it.
George's eyes widened.
"W-What are you doing...?"
Max said nothing.
His grip slowly tightened.
CRACK.
George screamed.
"AAAAAAAHHHH!!"
His fingers remained locked around the dagger's handle, but Max's grip was crushing the very wrist that held it.
CRACK. CRACK.
Bones groaned beneath the pressure.
George desperately tried to pull his arm back, but Max's grip didn't loosen even slightly.
"LET GO!!"
No response.
Max tightened his grip again.
CRACK!!
George's entire arm shook violently from the pain as tears welled in his eyes.
"PLEASE STOP!!"
He looked directly into Max's empty white eyes.
There was nothing there.
No hatred,No rage,No satisfaction,Nothing.
That terrified him more than anything else.
It wasn't a person looking back at him.
It was something else entirely.
Something that couldn't hear his pleas.
Something that couldn't understand mercy.
TO BE CONTINUED!