Ding!
Joan shoved her books into her bag and nearly sprinted out of the classroom, ignoring the Grimm Bros accelerated footsteps trailing behind her.
"Rem!" Navier called. "Wait! Wait for me!"
Joan sped up, ignoring his cries. Instead, she offered a silent apology for leaving him behind. She really did not want to get caught up with the Grimm Bros.
She escaped to the girl's restroom to wash off the ink that flowed through the ridges of her palm. By accident, Joan had squeezed her pen too tight, and it had spilled over her palm. The fragility of the things from the 2060s startled her.
Everything felt around her felt vintage, and she could hardly believe that she once lived through this era.
After clearing, the ink from her hand, Joan tightened her grip around her schoolbag's strap and stepped out of the school, inhaling the scent of chemical pollutants lingering in the air.
As she was about to exit school property, Navier's scrawny figure caught her attention.
He stood at the corner of the school building, his hands interlocked and his head hung. In front of him stood the three boys who Joan had encountered earlier today behind the school building.
The one who touched her had feline eyes and sharp, angled features. His cheekbones were well-defined, and he had a western nose.
Beside him stood a tall, lanky boy and a boy with a chilling grin.
Joan watched as the four boys disappeared behind the school building and out of sight. Should she help him? She had no reason to, after all.
"You should go," PK recommended.
"Why should I listen to you?" Joan scoffed, turning around and walking away.
"If he's getting bullied, I'll get you a new mission."
Joan froze. "Why are you so obsessed with helping him? Our end goal is to kill him." Her brows kissed as she stared at PK.
"And it'll be easier to do that if you gain his trust. It'll be a 50 dollar mission," PK said, enticing her to follow Navier.
At the mention of 50 dollars, Joan straightened and strode to the back of the school building.
When she peeked around the building's corner, she wasn't surprised to see Navier sobbing and lying on the ground. Ah, this guy got into a lot of trouble.
"Hey, Mad Dog, why's he so weak?" Jackal frowned. "You're telling me this wimp beat the shit out of the Grimm Bros?"
Mad Dog squatted in front of Navier, his chin resting disinterestedly on his palm. His eyes were half-lidded in boredom, and his lips parted in a yawn. "Ah, how lame."
Black Dog nudged Navier's face with the bottom of his shoe, coaxing another strangled sob to leave his lips and another wad of snot to leak. The corners of his lips curled back in disgust, and he pulled back his leg, preparing to land a heavy blow to Navier's face.
"Calibrating," PK chirped.
[Mini-Mission 3: Rescue Navier]
[Reward: 50 dollars]
A psychotic glint flashed in Joan's eyes. Before Black Dog could land his nose-shattering kick, she rushed forward, catching his leg mid-swing.
Her grip cuffed Black Dog's ankle, and her dark, emotionless eyes stared up at him. Black Dog, startled by her interference nearly tripped over his own feet. Gritting his teeth, he spat, "You're that bitch from earlier."
"Yeah, I'm that bitch." Joan's vice grip tightened, making Black Dog wince. He pulled back, attempting to free his leg from her grip, but it was to no avail.
"Rem," Navier weakly coughed, his glassed foggy from his tears. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this. You should go."
"Shut up," Joan said, keeping Black Dog firmly caught in her trap.
Annoyed, Black Dog swung his fist toward her face. She immediately pulled his leg, throwing off his balance, and Black Dog fell to the ground. Cursing, he swung his free leg at her, but she quickly jumped backward.
Joan raised her fists to her face in preparation for a fight.
"Sorry, babe, I don't hit girls," Jackal grinned, his smile eerily similar to the Cheshire Cat's, hiding a hint of derangement.
"Okay." Joan made the first move, rushing toward the boy beside Jackal. She pulled back her fist, but just as Mad Dog was about to intercept her blow, she spun on her heels, appearing behind him. Her fist connected with the back of his head and his head snapped forward to his collarbone.
While Joan's attention was fixated on Mad Dog, Jackal struck her at an alarmingly fast rate. She had sensed his blow but hadn't expected a normal human to strike so fast.
His fist connected with her rib cage, knocking the wind out of her lungs.
"Just kidding," Jackal cackled. "Equal rights, equal fights, yeah?"
Jackal, who had expected the girl to, at the very least, stumble back, was shocked when Joan stood firm.
"Rem Oaks, was it?" he grinned, cocking his head to the side. "I like you. I wonder what you look like when you're begging for your life."
Although Mad Dog stood at the top of the M High School hierarchy, Jackal and Black Dog were equally capable in a fight, each with a different strong point.
Jackal struck fast and was quick on his feet, taking pleasure in the frustration of his opponents. Black Dog was significantly slower, but his blows were heavier and his height allowed him to keep a safe distance between him and his opponents. Mad Dog was a very well-rounded fighter: fast and strong.
Navier had once explained the three's strong points to Joan, but she hadn't been paying attention and retained nothing from his lecture.
From Jackal's punch, Joan was able to roughly gauge his abilities. If the other two were around his level, she'd have to step up her game a little.
Joan swung her left fist at Jackal's disgusting grin. He didn't even have the time to process the monstrous speed she moved at. All the felt was a searing pain in his cheek. The Cheshire smile disappeared from his face, and Joan took immense pleasure in seeing his face contort into one of extreme pain.
Immediately after, she caught Black Dog's incoming fist in her palm and kicked his shoulder while maintaining a firm grip on his fist. A resounding crack and a scream of pain echoed after each other as Black Dog's shoulder dislodged.
But even with a dislocated shoulder, Black Dog continued to attack, raising his leg to land a roundhouse kick.
"Do you even know how to fight?" Joan mocked him. His movements were slow, and every move left a wide opening at the center of his body. "Too slow."
Unforgivingly, she connected her foot with Black Dog's sternum, making him fly back into Mad Dog, who caught him with ease.
Mad Dog's once fatigued eyes now held a sharp glint of intrigue. "Who taught you how to fight? Was it King? He never told me you were coming here."
Her speed and strength aroused suspicion in Mad Dog. Her footwork and analysis led him to believe she was professionally trained. But it wasn't just that. Her fighting was rhythmic, almost as if she were dancing instead of fighting. He felt like he was watching King fight instead of a random girl he'd just met.
"King?" Joan's heart became lodged in her throat. Were they thinking of the same King? The King who had trained Joan until she could no longer stand on her feet? Impossible. King would never associate himself with a dingy, overconfident high schooler. "My King would never associate with the likes of you."
The mention of his name erupted a pain that sent shockwaves to her core, swirling, and dancing inside of her like his signature fighting style. His name didn't deserve to be mentioned by the likes of this guy.
"So you know King?" Mad Dog asked.
"We're thinking of different people."
"No, we're not," Mad Dog insisted. "I know King's move when I see them. But your moves are more refined than his. Did you teach him? Or did he teach you?"
Mad Dog's hard eyes seemed to look through Joan, rummaging around the past she'd closed off to strangers.