In John's vision, he could see the green normal codes making that leg be tainted with a layer of white fog. It felt weird, as if these codes were placed into the fridge for a long time, got frozen, and were now taken out, and the ice started to slowly melt!
'So, the ability had a time limit, is it one minute then?' his eyes were glued to that leg, wanting to study this effect further. As for Cissel, she was having the worst nightmare ever in her life!
When she tried to pivot, her body betrayed her. Her leg didn't follow her commands; it felt heavy, unresponsive, and anchored to a point in space that didn't exist. For the first time in her life, the limb that was her most confident asset, the source of her terrifying speed, had become a dead weight, a burden she had to drag behind her.
She snarled, trying to force an acceleration to return the humiliation twofold, but the moment she pushed off, she ended up tripping over her own solidified burden. She stumbled, nearly falling again, while the entire class sucked in a collective, cold breath. The atmosphere was so brittle that if a single needle had fallen at that moment, the hall would have sounded with a gong.
"It's unfortunate for you," John said, his face slowly distorting into a vicious, predatory smile. He took a slow step forward. "But in this fight, there is no forfeit. I'm going to take my time beating you up until you finally understand your standing, below me!"
"I'm still here…!"
Ricky, fuming and desperate, saw his opening. He lunged from the floor, aiming a strike at John's blind spot. He thought he was being clever, moving his special five codes and their writhing filaments toward his leg to deliver a whip-like kick that would surely leave a deep and ugly wound over John's neck and shoulder.
But Ricky was fighting a losing battle. In John's vision, there was no such thing as a blind spot.
Fwoosh! Thud!
Ricky's leg whistled through empty air. John had vanished from the spot as if he had never been there, rotating around himself in a tight, efficient spin that put him directly behind Ricky's exposed back.
Before Ricky could even grasp what happened, a heavy, bone-deep blow slammed into his flank. It was followed instantly by a snap-kick that sent Ricky flying in the opposite direction from Cissel. All were launched with his three abilities active and running!
"Stay put," John's words were icily cold, cutting through the heavy air like a frost. He didn't even look back at the tumbling youth. "I'll come for you later. Don't worry."
Cough!
Cissel knew she was next. Panic had fully set in now; her strongest asset was weirdly frozen, locked by a force she couldn't comprehend. She tried to retreat, her mind racing to buy enough time to solve the riddle of her paralysis. But John was a relentless tide.
He didn't give her the privilege of a single second, didn't even allow for her frozen leg to break free from his ability. He closed the distance in a blur, landing a barrage of fists that hit her in every vulnerable point. He was using the best of his abilities to their absolute maximum, pouring every bit of his earned strength into the assault.
"Cissel is out!"
In less than twenty seconds, it was over. Cissel's body was launched into the air, falling back to the mat like a broken kite. She lay motionless, the only sign of life being the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Her eyes were vacant, fixed on the ceiling in the telltale stare of someone who had lost consciousness.
Nikolas's voice acted as a physical barrier, making John halt his follow-up spree of fists and kicks. John stood over her for a moment, giving her a short, dismissive gaze. He felt it now, the fruits of his hard, agonising training. The burnout, the headaches, the quests, the long hours of scanning... It had all led to this.
'I grew stronger!' He clenched both fists, feeling the power thrumming in them. He turned slowly, his eyes finding the twisted, terrified face of Ricky, who was struggling to get back to his feet, struggling to get away from him.
"Let's end this exactly how it started," John said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. "Between the two of us."
Nikolas stood on the sidelines, his hand halfway raised to intervene and stop the slaughter. But he froze. He was the same man who had refused John's surrender just minutes ago. For a rare moment in his professional life, the teacher felt a pang of regret for his own greed, curiosity, and haste. But then, he looked at John, and a realisation hit him.
'I'll let him prove himself with his own strength,' Nikolas decided, lowering his hand. 'We are the Military Department! We don't coddle; we respect strength, especially when it's as hard-earned as this!'
Nikolas watched the entire fight with a gaze that flickered between professional curiosity and genuine awe. The growth pattern John was exhibiting wasn't just impressive; it was terrifying.
To move from a zero-score outlier to a force capable of dismantling the class's elite in a completely one-sided slaughter was a trajectory Nikolas had rarely seen in his years of teaching.
Yet, the teacher felt more pride than worry. This raw, explosive evolution was the very foundation upon which the Military Department was built. It was survival of the fittest, and John had just climbed to the top of the food chain in his class.
Thud!
The conclusion of the fight with Ricky held no suspense. With Cissel neutralised, Ricky was nothing more than a cornered animal. John acted fairly and delivered a brutal share of fists and kicks. He didn't just strike; he maintained contact, keeping his MP Absorption and Object Lockdown active for another full minute.
Unlike his treatment of Cissel, John was far less merciful with the youth who had ridiculed and threatened him. He made sure to leave Ricky with deep, internal injuries, enough to ensure that thin, dark traces of blood drooled from the corners of his mouth as he finally slumped into unconsciousness.
"You shouldn't have treated my friend badly," John calmly said, standing over the fallen Ricky. His voice carried a cold, threatening resonance that made the students around shiver. Internally, however, John's thoughts were much pettier. 'And you shouldn't have left that wound on my arm! It's going to leave a damn, ugly scar!'
As the entire class was ushered under a deadly, suffocating silence, John's eyes drifted away from the wreckage of his opponents. He focused on the interface floating in his vision.
[Mental Point (MP): 105/105]
'Dammit!' A realisation hit him that almost made him laugh. 'Next time, I won't use that terrible burnout-hangover method to replenish my Mental Points. Why go through twenty hours of sleep and many more of intense, excruciating headache when I can just find a punching bag and fully recharge in minutes?'
He looked at Ricky's and Cissel's limp bodies with a newfound appreciation for the two as mobile batteries.
Before he could take a single step toward the exit to find some peace, Nikolas moved with startling speed, stepping into the centre of the hall.
"Anyone else?" Nikolas's voice boomed, projecting to every corner of the hall. "Does anyone else want to compete against John Mirage for the Class President seat? Huh? Anyone?"
Hearing those words felt like a bucket of ice water being poured over John's head immediately after stepping out of a sauna. His brain stalled. In the heat of the quest and the thrill of taking revenge on Cissel and Ricky, he had totally forgotten what this fight was actually about.
He had focused so much on the Dig Deeper Quest, testing his abilities, fighting to the limit for the first time ever, that he had neglected the consequences. He never wanted to be the Class President; he wanted to be a normal student in the system, not a figurehead.
His eyes darted around the room, the desperate look of a drowning man searching for a straw to survive. He prayed for someone, anyone, to raise their hand.
"No one?" Nikolas shouted, his voice celebratory. He didn't give John a single second to find an exit strategy or extricate himself from this looming responsibility.
"Then we have a winner! Ladies and gentlemen, give a big applause to your new Class President! Your strongest! The one who is going to lead you in the upcoming fighting competition against the Year Two class!"
'Damn! I'm fcked!' John screamed internally. He wanted to shout that he was tired, that he was exhausted, that it was all a big misunderstanding. He looked at the sea of pale, terrified faces in the audience.
Not a single student dared to meet his eyes. To them, he was no longer a zero; he was a monster who had just crushed the two most feared students in the class without breaking a sweat.
'Fuck it, Luke! Where are you when I actually need your help?!' At this moment, he truly and deeply missed his impulsive, loud-mouthed friend. Luke's reckless nature would have been the perfect way to lure him into a challenge to take the position away.
He stood there, tied to a position of authority he had never aimed for, realising he had just alienated the two strongest assets he was supposed to lead later against the Year Two class.
He looked at Cissel's motionless form and Ricky's bloody face. He could already imagine how they would react to his orders. 'They won't follow me. They'll probably try to stab me in the back during the competition. I'm totally screwed!'
"Don't worry, I'll make sure to bring your official badge to you later so you can roam the academy freely," Nikolas said, approaching John and speaking in a low tone. He had noticed the conflicted, almost pained look on John's face.
"As for those two... Don't worry. I'll make sure they follow your orders in the upcoming competition. However, how sincere are they in that loyalty? Well, that is your problem to solve, not mine, hehehe!"
John glared at the teacher. He felt like Nikolas was reading his mind, actually enjoying his desperate predicament. Without saying anything else, Nikolas turned away and began barking orders to the class to clean the blood and mess the fight had caused, while two floating stretchers appeared to carry Ricky and Cissel to the infirmary.
John stood still, feeling the weight of the entire class's gaze. But just before he could sink into a pit of self-pity and regret, something new flashed in front of his eyes, something that made a faint, genuine smile finally tug at the corners of his mouth.
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[Ding! You gained a title: Fresh Year Class President!]
[Ding! You gained +30 to your Mental Points cap - +2 Mental Point regeneration!]
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