"Little brat! Look at you about to wet your pants! You're telling me this fuck face's rank is above mine? Pffft! What? Are you gonna cry and look for your mom?"
His hand raised, tapping the teenager's chest a few times with a finger, each one more painful than the other. Seeing him stagger backward, the sneer on the man's face widened, his fingers clasped to a fist, and his hand raised to throw a punch.
The instant his fist moved, a silhouette rushed forward. Just before the boy was hit, someone pushed him aside.
POOFFF
The fist landed perfectly on the young boy's face. The crackling sound of bones breaking echoed in his ears, a hot gush of red running down his nose, oozing down his jaw, drenching his white clothes. His body staggered backward, yet his gaze did not waver at all.
With his left hand still tightly clenching Eliot's shoulder and keeping him away from the bulky man, Ian clenched his right hand into a fist.
"What do you want?"
