"What the hell?!"
John's exclamation exploded into the garden. The sound echoed off, causing the nearby students, his own classmates, and even the distant higher years students at different booths to freeze and turn toward him.
"I said, fck off!" John stood a few metres away from Alfred, his expression unreadable, and his tone was calm. The entire world stopped at this moment, and all looked at these two, waiting to see what was going to happen.
"What did you just say to me, loser?!"
Alfred bellowed back as if he had been slapped. He looked at John while his entire body shook out of rage. Alfred took himself very seriously, and in his world, a zero-scoring student like John didn't get to speak, let alone shout back in his face.
Ignoring the proximity of the scarred examiner and the other teachers stalking the perimeter, Alfred stomped forward. He loomed over John, a massive, thick finger jabbing fiercely into John's chest.
"If you think you've got what it takes to open that pathetic mouth of yours, then come and prove it. Fight me! Right here, right now, and let's see who's really going to fck off!"
John stared at the youth, his expression blank and unreadable. And yet, he was fuming in rage! That youth represented simply everything he hated about the arrogant established powers in the world. That youth had nothing to show off about, except his origins from a family that had ties with a strong force or power, the Paragons.
John didn't stand idle. He wasn't the type to look for trouble, but if trouble came knocking on his doorstep, he would warmly welcome it with open arms.
"What? Silent now? Did the cat eat your tongue, or did you realise you're just a coward?" Alfred pushed John again, totally mistaking John's sudden silence as an act of fear, not boiling rage.
"Alfred, you're breaking the academy rules!" The scarred teacher ran from a distance, hurriedly intervening, though his voice lacked its usual bite. He was watching John closely, his fierce eyes searching for a spark of defiance.
He had hoped John would show some spirit to overcome his disastrous score, even if it meant a quick defeat. In this military-centric department, a courageous loser was respected more than a silent victim. Hearing what John said made him hang high hopes on him, expecting to see something interesting, seeing a spark of a gem covered in mud.
"Let's do it," John plainly said, his voice cold and steady. Before the teacher could finish his warning, John stepped past him, walking away from the surrounding booths, standing in a clear, open space. "Let's fight. Right now."
"Don't come crying to teachers later," Alfred sneered, his face contorting into an evil grin. "Since your mama isn't around to protect her little loser anymore!"
John ignored the taunt, his mind already spinning at overclocked speeds. He hadn't tested his new ability in a true fight yet, but he knew what he saw. The shift in the world's vision was alone enough to make him have hope in crushing this student. And he knew more.
No matter what, those who always bark louder were always the pitiful failures. If not for the abnormal situation he found himself in when he arrived in this world, he would have never scored zero.
He also wanted to test and see what the power in this world looked like, how his system, stats, and abilities would fare against the standard rules of this world.
"I will state the rules," the teacher announced, giving John a nod of respect. He stepped between the two. "This is a friendly spar. No lethal strikes. No weapons are allowed. If I give the order to cease the fight, you stop immediately. Understood?"
Both boys nodded. The atmosphere in the garden shifted instantly. The higher years students, sensing a spectacle, surged forward to form a wide circle around the combatants. Whispers rippled through the crowd; most of them were already placing bets on how many seconds the zero-score kid would last against Alfred.
"Start!"
The examiner's hand dropped. Alfred didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, his right fist cocked back and aimed directly for John's jaw. It was a strike meant to end the fight in a single, humiliating blow.
'Let's see how you are best suited for close quarter combats... Frame Recognition!'
The world changed and broke into a green forest of code lines. John got accustomed to seeing the world this way, so he easily spotted the shape of the incoming enemy.
The bully changed in an instant into a dynamic pile of green codes arranged in a humanoid grid. As Alfred swung his fist, John saw something remarkable, something that drove a calm smile on the corner of his lips.
A bright, pulsing sphere, the size of a tennis ball, appeared in the air ahead of Alfred's incoming fist. A flickering, translucent line extended from Alfred's knuckles, piercing through the sphere and pointing exactly at the centre of John's forehead.
'It highlights the attack trajectory... It's showing me where Alfred's fist is aiming!'
John's brain processed the information in milliseconds.
As Alfred's fist whistled through the air, John didn't panic. He waited until the last possible moment, then simply tilted his head and stepped half an inch to the side. The punch grazed past his ear with no harm inflicted whatsoever.
Alfred's momentum carried him forward, his eyes widening in shock as he hit nothing but empty air. John stood perfectly balanced, watching the bully stumble.
"You missed," John whispered.
"Acting smart, huh? This was a mere fluke!"
Alfred growled, his face reddening as he misinterpreted John's effortless dodge as a desperate stroke of luck. He didn't pause to reconsider his strategy; instead, he followed his failed punch with a brutal, rising knee strike aimed at John's midsection.
As Alfred's leg moved, a flickering trajectory line materialised instantly, connecting Alfred's knee to John's belly.
With a simple motion, John rotated his hips, allowing the knee to whistle past his chest. Using the momentum of his dodge, he pivoted sharply, positioning himself behind Alfred's exposed flank.
"It's my turn now," John said, his voice dropping to an icy whisper.
He drove a strike into Alfred's side. The impact was solid. It wasn't just the strength of a seventeen-year-old; it was so strong to startle even John himself. The blow sent Alfred stumbling several steps away, the large boy clutching his side and groaning in agony.
The entire garden fell into a stunned, suffocating silence. This was a turn of events that defied every expectation. The gathered students turned their heads toward the teacher, their eyes wide with a singular question: Is this the power of someone who scored a zero in their admission test?
The scarred examiner himself was stupefied. He stood dazed, his mouth slightly agape as he watched the sequence of events. He had expected a slaughter, but not this reversal.
He watched as Alfred launched a desperate flurry of strikes, consecutive punches and kicks that would have levelled any other freshman, only for John to smoothly glide through the gaps in the assault. John wasn't just fighting; he was dancing through Alfred's fury.
These weren't the moves of a freshman, the teacher thought, his eyes narrowing as he analysed John's posture and movement closely. These weren't the moves of a low-ranking student, let alone a zero-scorer. If anything, the veteran examiner sniffed the distinct scent of long, brutal fighting experience in John's movements and never-failing strikes.
John never missed a counter-hit. His timing was always right on the spot, and his strength was more than enough to dominate the larger boy.
John, however, was oblivious to the shockwave he was sending through the watchers. He was totally immersed in the bizarre, glowing beauty of the Frame Recognition ability.
At the start of the bout, he had been tense, his movements rigid as he struggled to trust the green, alien world. But after a few successful evasions and counter-strikes, he realised he had been gifted something akin to godhood in the world.
On the other side of the fight, Alfred's aloof, arrogant air had vanished, replaced by a cold, paralysing emotion: fear. He had been trained for years in close-quarters combat by expensive tutors, yet no matter what feint he tried or what speed he exerted, John was already there, waiting. It was as if John was reading his very thoughts.
Alfred had experienced this feeling before: when sparring with high-ranking masters. A terrifying thought flashed through his mind: 'Don't tell me he is on par with those monsters?'
In combat, losing your confidence was the precursor to losing your fight. Alfred's offence crumbled. He transformed into a human sandbag, his only focus shifting to a desperate, frantic defence instead of his opening offensive barrage of attacks. He retreated backwards, his arms held high to shield his face, failing to land a single hit for several minutes.
But even with Alfred focused entirely on defence, John's vision showed the holes in Alfred's stance.
John exploited them all, landing a succession of hits across Alfred's body. In less than ten minutes, before the ability could even reach its duration limit, Alfred was the one who wore out.
Thud!
Alfred's massive frame slammed heavily onto the ground. His eyes rolled back, losing their focus, and a thin trickle of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth.
The fight had been brutally one-sided, a total shock to everyone present. The teachers standing at the proximity of the two fighters were so paralysed by the impossibility of the scene that they hadn't even moved to intervene until it was already over.
"It's... It's John Mirage's win," the scarred teacher finally managed to announce. He stepped forward, giving John a long, searching look that was heavy with unspoken questions.
'If you have this kind of strength, why the hell did you score a zero on the test? Were you trying to play with my heart, kid?' The teacher wanted to scream at John, yet he exerted his utmost restraint on himself not to.
John felt the weight of everyone's gazes. He felt the pressure from the teachers, the newfound fear and respect from the students, and the curiosity of the elite. He met it all with an uncaring shrug and a look of pure indifference. He turned his back on the unconscious Alfred, his interest in the bully already evaporated.
As the medical team rushed into the garden to carry Alfred away on a hovering stretcher, John's vision flickered once, the green code dissolving as the world returned to its normal state. A series of notifications bloomed across his sight.
-
[Ding! You did so great just now, John Mirage! You deserve a little reward for your daring performance!]
[Ding! Congratulation! You gained: Mental Power Cap increased by 5 points - +1 to all Attributes - Ability Unlocked: Object Lockdown (Active - Basic) - System Synchronisation increased by 1%!]
-
John looked at these rewards with a wide smile on his face. 'So when I do something unexpected, I'll get a reward? That's nice!' he thought, before checking the new ability he gained.
'Hmm… It looks like a freezing ability. Could be handy in a lot of situations,' John mused. He thought back to the fight with Alfred. If he had touched the bully's arm, could he have frozen him in mid-swing?
The description mentioned any target, and John thought deeper about what it really meant. 'Can it freeze living beings, or just inanimate objects? I'll need to find a way to test that out later.'
John shifted his attention around. Right now, he was the star of the day. All of the eyes were fixated on him. And yet, unlike what others expected, he simply retreated to the shadows and silence, didn't even bother checking any booth or inquire about joining any club at all.
Everyone was curious to know more about him; the older students even asked the ones in the freshman year to gather information about John as one of the conditions to join their clubs.
John knew Alfred wanted to use him to set an example, and he repaid the favour double. He used Alfred to set an example, and now no one would take him lightly or try to test him again.