054 PAY
TO SLAP THEM
Then, just as suddenly, the readings began to drop.
0.002%... 0.003%...
The numbers stabilized, fluctuating only within a narrow range. The display labeled it as ambient psychic interference—effectively negligible, indistinguishable from background noise.
Dan exhaled in relief. "Perfect. Practically invisible now."
Satisfied, he powered down the scanner and pocketed his phone. The cover worked flawlessly.
He straightened his jacket and headed down the hall. "Ti to et Lieutenant Kalr," he said to himself. "I've got ta skills to upgrade."
----
Dan and Zairgid returned to ta High School No. 2, unaware of the surprise awaiting them.
As they stepped into the main practice ground, they froze. Colorful banners stretched across the walls, and the biggest one read: "Welco Ho, Heroes!"
"Who's visiting today?" Dan asked, scanning the crowd for VIPs.
"Who cares—as long as it's a group of busty nurses," Zairgid muttered cheekily.
But as they walked down the red carpet, the applause swelled and Dan realized all eyes were on them. Even Principal Fayram Misk stood on stage, clapping proudly.
"Welco ho, Zairgid Aukuoma and Dan Dark—the heroes of Fortress Myrone!" the principal announced, signaling for them to co up.
Still puzzled, they complied. A clerk stepped forward, holding a tray with two dals gleaming under the lights.
Principal Misk placed one around Zairgid's neck, then the other around Dan's.
"What's this about?" Dan whispered.
Zairgid shrugged. "Maybe it's for the Mountain of Death mission. Guess surviving the trip makes us heroes now."
Before Dan could reply, a voice shouted from the crowd.
"Those two fools don't deserve it! We all went to the Space Rift expedition—why only them get dals?"
Zairgid looked down, his eyes narrowing. "That's Xylo Aukuoma. One of my bastard cousins."
Principal Misk frowned. "Xylo Aukuoma, the fortress officially recomnded them. We don't hand out dals arbitrarily."
"How can a weak coward like my cousin be called a hero?" Xylo yelled, sneering. "He hides behind others—behind won!"
"Yeah, they don't deserve it!" soone else shouted.
"What about us? We fought too!" another added.
The crowd started murmuring angrily, the atmosphere souring fast.
Zairgid muttered, "This is a setup. That bastard and his cronies are trying to make us look bad."
He was right.
The Aukuoma clan had long been split between factions. Zairgid's father's side had risen in prestige after his son's achievents, but the rival branch wasn't happy—and Xylo was their mouthpiece.
"What do you want, Xylo?" Zairgid demanded.
"I want a fight," Xylo declared. "One-on-one. If you lose, it proves your dals are fake."
"Yeah!" the crowd roared. "Fight! Fight!"
Zairgid hesitated. Backing down now would stain his na—and his family's.
Dan stepped forward, his gaze cold. "Whoever wants to fight, step up. But be ready to end up like Lukas Veyran."
The crowd instantly fell silent.
"Wait—he's the one who crushed Lukas with a single move."
"Yeah… the prodigy with perfect middle school scores!"
As murmurs spread, Xylo snarled, "Then I'll challenge both of you!"
Dan smirked. "You? Want to fight ? You don't deserve it."
"See? He's just as cowardly as my cousin!" Xylo shouted. "His so-called victory over Lukas is just hype!"
Before the crowd could turn again, Dan cut him off. "You don't deserve a fight—unless…" He turned to Zairgid, lowering his voice. "Make him pay for it. Fifty-fifty split."
Zairgid's eyes glead in understanding. He raised his hand, flashing several Aur cards.
"One million Aurs," he declared. "If you can match that wager, we'll fight."
The crowd gasped.
Xylo froze, his face paling. He hadn't brought that kind of money to wager in a fight… he'd only co to humiliate his cousin.
"You're hiding behind the family's wealth, Zairgid!" he spat.
A hand landed on his shoulder suddenly. "Relax. It's just a million Aurs—I'll back you."
It was Freeland Veyran, Lukas's older brother. He tossed several cash cards toward Zairgid, smirking.
Zairgid caught them smoothly, then turned toward the stage.
"Hey! Why are you going up there?!" Xylo shouted.
"Because," Zairgid said, grinning, "your wager isn't with —it's with Dan Dark."
The crowd roared as they cleared a space before the stage, forming a makeshift arena. Xylo stepped forward, his muscles tensed and his rage boiling.
Dan walked down slowly, his eyes locked on him. He pointed… and turned his thumb down. "You are weak."
The word echoed across the field.
"YOU'LL REGRET THAT!" Xylo scread and charged…
…but before anyone could blink, his body was flung across the arena like a ragdoll.
A shocked silence followed.
"Where did he go?"
"Did he vanish?"
"No—look! He's over there!"
All eyes turned. Xylo lay crumpled hundreds of ters away, half-buried in the field's edge.
"The fight's over," Dan said flatly, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve.
Then he turned toward the stage, grinning at Zairgid—and at the Aur cards in his friend's hand.
"No. This isn't over yet," Freeland Veyran bellowed from the crowd.
Dan glanced back. "Why you? You want to challenge
too?"
"I'm going to kill you," Freeland snarled.
Dan shrugged, bored. "Fine. Sa stake—one million Aurs per person. Show
the money and I'll whack you. I can't resist people giving money to smack them."
Freeland's face went red, fury flaring.
Before he could answer, Prescott Aukuoma — a proper Aukuoma heir — stood and warned, "He's strong. You alone may not be enough."
"Don't worry, I have the strongest students in school backing
up
Reviews
All reviews (0)