"Hey, I’m talking to you!"
The burly student roared, about to punch the more petite boy.
A resounding voice echoed from afar: "What are you doing? I’ve already reported this to Teacher C!"
Brute walked forward, raising his voice.
The smaller student’s body trembled slightly, while the bigger student directly flung him aside with a loud crash—bones cracking could even be heard.
"Who the hell do you think you are to meddle in our business?!" the burly student barked, clearly the ringleader.
The moment his words fell, his lackeys immediately jumped in:
"Yeah, do you even know who our boss is?!"
"Young Master, they’re obviously transfer students—just a bunch of idiots daring to stick their noses into your affairs!"
"They must be begging to get bullied!"
One of the Young Master’s lackeys suddenly spoke up.
He had slanted eyes, a body far too scrawny, and a smile that didn’t inspire goodwill.
His words seemed like some omen.
Immediately, a strange magnetic field enveloped the entire area. The sky and ground seemed to form an invisible, massive cylinder. Within a five-meter radius, the heavens dimmed unnaturally, entirely at odds with the colors of Dove High School. The ground turned into a bizarre shade of violet-black.
Brute suddenly bellowed: "Captain, my power has dropped!" ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novel•fire.net
Someone else shouted: "I can’t feel my strength anymore!"
At that moment, Luther staggered and nearly collapsed.
Thomas’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting things to spiral into this.
Perched atop a tree, Nerio sat leisurely. The tree wasn’t tall, yet no one else could see him for some reason.
Only the bullied student, lying on his back, eyes wide open, could see Nerio—terrified, as if questioning why Nerio was even there.
Nerio smiled, waving his hand with great amusement.
[Ha ha ha, these guys are lucky enough to be cursed by their luck.]
[Can’t deny that Luther did lead them right to the spot, but so what? They don’t even understand the situation correctly, ha ha ha.]
[So then, who’s the one that needs saving now? Nobody knows yet.]
[Sure, I enjoy arrogant people, but arrogance mixed with stupidity? That’s not exactly my taste.]
[Alright, Nerio’s everyone’s type, I get it.]
"C-call... call... call the teacher..."
Before completely losing consciousness, Luther used nearly all his strength to force those words out.
Hearing that, Thomas immediately turned to look at Liora. Liora nodded. She had already sent a message to her comrades outside when she sensed the spatial distortion. She hadn’t received any response yet before her ability malfunctioned. Still, she was certain that her comrades had received the signal.
At the same time, the slightly gaunt man stepped forward. The one leading the group, addressed as young master, also known by another name—Alat, the student—looked at him, smirked, and said:
"Teach them a lesson. Let them know who can be touched, and who cannot!"
As soon as he spoke, the man suddenly lunged forward. At the same time, his arms and legs stretched grotesquely, nothing but skin clinging to bone. His skin turned an ashen gray, sprouting uneven, corpse-like blotches, emanating an indescribably foul stench.
In no time, his frame had grown to five meters long, his crooked limbs extending nearly twice the length of his body!
His face elongated into a massive beak, jagged like a shark’s maw. His head shrank absurdly small compared to the beak, yet tufts of coarse feathers still jutted out—not as if they had grown naturally, but as if they’d been violently nailed into his flesh.
His eyes were nothing more than hollow pits. He roared, then charged forward with terrifying force. Wherever his enormous arms swept, the ground was instantly torn apart.
Thomas, carrying Luther, swiftly dodged the monster’s attacks.
A piercing, despair-filled scream rang out. Looking back, they saw one of their comrades lifted high into the air by the monster’s two massive hands. The comrade couldn’t even resist, for all their powers were suppressed now!
The monster let out a thunderous growl, its hands crushing down. Twisting tight, the body instantly crumpled like a soaked rag wrung dry. Fresh blood poured onto the ground, immediately absorbed by the earth.
A sharp, tearing sound split the air—the victim’s body ripped clean in half, flung straight into the creature’s gaping beak, where it was slowly chewed until not a trace remained.
It raised its head and shrieked, the high-pitched resonance so unbearable it made them stagger. On its wicked face, one could clearly see its ecstasy! Roaring again, its massive hands reached out, groping to seize the small, fleeing humans.
Thomas and the others could only scramble desperately, unable to escape the confined zone. The monster’s colossal body alone already filled the designated area.
They were like a swarm of ants, struggling only to flee, yet unable to escape!
Why? Why could this happen? They were the chosen ones—they were supposed to be the chosen ones! How could they be suppressed ? No... no, this wasn’t right at all!
Just as Thomas’s eyes turned pitch-black, a thunderous voice suddenly rang out from outside.
"Teacher, over here! They’re fighting over here!"
"A bunch of insolent students!"
It sounded like something being smashed to pieces. Teacher C, easily recognizable by his bald head, stepped into the area.
The barrier separating them abruptly vanished at the exact moment—scarcely even a second later. The sky was still bright, the grass lush and green. The tall, gaunt student stood quietly at Alat’s side. Everything appeared perfectly ordinary, as if no brutal clash had ever taken place—were it not for Thomas and the others still sprawled, battered, on the ground.
They had come here five in total, but already two had fallen into the maw of that monster!
Thomas clenched his fists tight, bloodshot veins crawling across his eyes.
Teacher C roared furiously: "What are the school rules? What are the school rules, huh?! A pack of unruly students—you all deserve to be punished, severely punished!"
Alat and the others seemed well-versed in situations . He smirked and said:
"We were just playing around a little, sir. You can ask Tom yourself."
Thomas and his group were utterly ignored, as though Alat was specific Teacher C would never press further.
Teacher C hefted his large wooden staff and walked toward Tom—the very student who had been bullied—still sitting on the ground.
"Is that true? Did they really say that? They didn’t bully you?"
How absurd. Fresh blood was still trickling down Tom’s face, and Teacher C was hardly blind. Yet he still asked that question—his expression was even more menacing than usual as he faced Tom.
Tom trembled, his voice quaking with fear:
"Y-Yes... yes, that’s right."