"This, this..." The middle-aged female teacher rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't seeing things.
The ten-meter target was set up as a joke. During the first round, no one even touched the ten-meter target. Everyone had also tacitly regarded that target as a decoration. But now, five darts were absurdly embedded in the center of the bullseye.
The female teacher walked over to check and returned with a resigned look. She then said in an unsteady voice, "Five ten rings..."
The student helping out noted this down in a daze, 'Five ten-rings and double points for the ten-meter position… Is this considered a perfect score?'
At this time, the onlookers began to buzz with excitement, with expressions of shock and disbelief on their faces. Some of them subconsciously wanted to say that Logan got lucky, but this is clearly beyond what luck could explain.
"Did this guy train for this?"
"Whoa, that's some scary arm strength..."
"Why does the way he threw the dart look so familiar?"
People's comments varied, and some of Logan's classmates joined in the celebration, enjoying this happy moment.
Logan kept a calm yet slightly embarrassed expression, 'Sure enough, not holding back would seem exaggerated to others.'
He coughed lightly, walked up to the middle-aged female teacher, and said, "Teacher, since I got a perfect score, I don't need to participate in the following rounds, right?"
As soon as these words came out, they were immediately heard by a few people with sharp ears. The girls' eyes were filled with excitement, while the boys felt a jolt, considering him a formidable rival.
The middle-aged female teacher moved her lips. As everyone's teacher, she felt obligated to stop Logan's pretentious behavior that disrupted the balance. However, she couldn't find the right words to argue.
"Teacher?" Logan looked sincerely puzzled.
The female teacher sighed, "Technically, this is possible..."
"Thank you, teacher."
Before she could finish her words, With the championship already in hand, he left behind the astonished crowd, walking away nonchalantly like an expert.
"Whew." Logan breathed out a sigh of relief as he blended into the throng of students. The rules for throwing darts are similar to javelin or shot put, which is allowing the contestants to keep their best score. Now that he gets the highest score, there is no need to sit around there and waste time.
"Now then." Logan stealthily moved to the edge of the field, "Finally..." Just as he was about to tear off his participant number tag, a girl's voice stopped him.
"Logan, there you are!"
"..."
Logan looked at Diane who is happily running over with a dumb look on his face.
"I was just looking for you. I remembered you were doing the dart throw. It's okay if you got eliminated in the individual event; the tug-of-war team event is next..." Noticing Logan's despondent expression, Diane asked with concern, "What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"
"Yeah, my stomach hurts a bit little." Logan said, managing to look genuinely distressed.
Diane gave Logan a once-over. In the sunlight, she noticed how much he had grown tall.
"Don't joke around. I can tell you're just faking it. Come here quickly." Diane turned around directly, her scolding tone was stern yet gentle, like the warm midday sun.
Logan looked around, took a deep breath, and made a cross with his index fingers. He couldn't afford to damage his credibility now.
"Shadow..."
"Logan!" A gentle voice approached him as the same hand that grabbed him earlier in the afternoon caught him again, "The competition is about to start. Stop making those weird postures."
'Weird posture?'
Logan couldn't help but be led towards the center of the field by the soft hand. A bad premonition came into his mind, 'Could it be that I had been posing in strange postures like a Chunibyo until now?' (T/N: Chunibyo or Eight-Grade Syndrome means children who suddenly show delusional behavior and occurs during middle school.)
'No, now is not the time to think about such things...'
"Diane, I have something urgent..."
"I know what you're going to say. Just like before, you don't participate in group activities because you find it troublesome and would rather watch anime." Diane's words carried a distant reminiscence, as if recounting past events, "But you can't live in isolation all the time. Chatting online isn't enough…"
Her gentle words strung together memories from childhood to the present. Logan looked at the beautiful figure walking in front of him strangely, and the distant memory made him stop talking.
"And don't be afraid to interact with strangers. We are already in our second year of high school..." As if feeling the silence between them, Diane paused and stopped talking, as if it was something was taboo for young men and women.
Fortunately, the awkward atmosphere didn't last long. A female classmate ran over to Diane, and as they started chatting, the hand holding Logan's let go.
The center of the field had been cleared for a sufficiently large area, with several thick and long ropes laid out on the ground. Other activities were being stopped one after another as the school preferred to foster team spirit, giving plenty of time and space for the tug-of-war.
"Class 2-A, gather here!" Diane and the class monitor began calling people over. Diane's dedication and gentle beauty naturally drew everyone's attention.
Logan joined the group as called, listening to the class monitor's pep talk.
"When we start, everyone needs to pull in unison and lean back..."
Diane smiled at Logan and gave him an encouraging gesture.
Logan casually nodded. The class leader was already methodically assigning positions when the female team leader pulled him aside and said, "Logan, you..."
"Oh."
The female team leader glanced at the arranged lineup with some concern. She originally expected David's strong figure, "Well, you should stand at the end, and remember to pull hard when the time comes."
'Being relegated to simply pulling hard during a tug-of-war... Logan stood at the end of the line with a blank expression. Well, he didn't have much of a choice either.
Tug-of Tug-of-war was a class competition, ten against ten. In addition to the physical fitness of the members, skills are also crucial, requiring a coordinated effort and proper force application.
'If we get eliminated in the first round, there won't be as many issues later.' Logan thought maliciously, stroking his chin as he considered some devious plans, 'Sorry, everyone, but we'll have to postpone our united spirit for now.'
His phone vibrated again, and Logan cautiously checked it while hiding behind a sturdy female classmate.
"Little brother, are you done yet?? It's almost the scheduled time."
The Blue Gang's boss used two question marks here, indicating his urgency.
Logan felt quite embarrassed He had delayed too long and it couldn't be justified. He quickly typed out a reply, "Almost done. Just a tug-of-war left."
…
In the stuffy restaurant, the electric fan whirred at full power, and the warm wind brought a hint of restlessness in response to the violence that was about to happen.
The crowded dining hall was filled with fierce-looking men. Despite the oppressive atmosphere, several burly figures were sweating, whether from the heat or the tension.
Damian flipped his phone over again, resting it on his leg. He was also sweating a little because of his suit. He glanced around at the dozens of brothers, ensuring he hadn't misjudged the situation.
'Throwing darts, tug of war...'
'Are you kidding me?'
The corners of his mouth couldn't help but twitch. After over a decade in the shady underworld, this was the first time he had felt such pain in his balls.