Chereads / Whisper of the Harbinger / Chapter 60 - Crowds of Spectactor

Chapter 60 - Crowds of Spectactor

As he approached the crowd, he could hear the raised voices and the tense atmosphere. Pushing through the throng of students, Marcel finally got a glimpse of the commotion.

Jonathan, the leader of the "cool kids," was engaged in a heated argument with one of the seniors from the group that had confronted me earlier. The senior's face was red with rage, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"You think you're so cool, texting my girlfriend behind my back?" the senior snarled, his voice laced with venom.

Jonathan smirked, his usual cocky demeanor unwavering. "Maybe I am cooler than you," he retorted, crossing his arms defiantly. "And maybe your girlfriend has better taste than you."

The crowd gasped, a ripple of shock and excitement passing through them. A fight was about to break out, right here in the cafeteria.

Marcel could feel his own heart pounding in his chest.

A girl stepped between Jonathan and the senior, her hand gripping the senior's arm tightly. "Babe, please, just let it go!" she pleaded, her voice trembling.

"Get off me!" the senior snarled, trying to shake her off.

Jonathan smirked, his eyes gleaming with malicious glee. "Whoa, you're not very gentle with your girlfriend, are you?" he taunted. "That's probably why she keeps sending me pictures of herself."

Marcel, watching the scene unfold, recognized Jonathan's tactics. He always had a knack for pushing people's buttons, for exploiting their weaknesses and insecurities. Jonathan was the type of person who would break someone down mentally before even considering a physical confrontation.

He's a master manipulator, Marcel thought, a shiver running down his spine.

The tension in the cafeteria escalated as the argument between Jonathan and the senior intensified. Students gathered around, their eyes glued to the scene unfolding before them.

"You're nothing but a spoiled brat!" the senior spat, his voice filled with rage. "You think you can just walk around here, disrespecting people and getting away with it?"

Jonathan laughed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Aw, did I hurt your feelings, big guy? Maybe you should learn to control your temper."

Marcel watched the exchange with a growing sense of unease. He knew that Jonathan was deliberately provoking the senior, pushing him towards violence. But why? What did Jonathan have to gain from starting a fight?

Just as the situation seemed to be reaching a boiling point, a teacher intervened, separating the two boys and sending them to the principal's office. The crowd dispersed, their whispers and murmurs filling the air.

Marcel turned away, a sour taste in his mouth. He knew that this wasn't the end of it. Jonathan wouldn't let this go so easily. He would find a way to get revenge, to exert his dominance over the school once again.

Marcel decided to find Xian. Perhaps he could offer some insight into Jonathan's motives, his strange behavior. After all, Xian had always been the quiet observer, the one who saw things that others missed.

***

I drifted off to sleep, lulled by the quiet hum of the air conditioner and the comforting silence of the empty classroom. Suddenly, a rough shake on my shoulder jolted me awake.

"Xian! Xian!" Marcel's voice cut through the fog of sleep, a frantic edge to his tone.

I blinked, my eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden light. "What...?" I mumbled, groggily.

"Jonathan's in a fight!" Marcel exclaimed, his voice laced with urgency.

I groaned, still half asleep. "Is that my problem?" I grumbled, burying my face in my arms.

"No, but... the senior he's fighting is the same one who tried to mess with you earlier!" Marcel explained, his voice rising in pitch.

My eyes snapped open, sleep instantly forgotten. A flicker of interest replaced the drowsiness. "Ah, him again," I said, sitting up. "I'm kind of bored anyway. Let's go see what's happening."

We rushed out of the classroom, the sound of the commotion growing louder as we approached the cafeteria.

Pushing our way through the crowd, we saw Jonathan and the senior locked in a heated brawl, their faces contorted with rage.

The senior was clearly losing his temper, his voice rising to a furious roar. "I'm going to teach you a lesson, you arrogant little prick!" he bellowed, lunging towards Jonathan.

But Jonathan was ready for him. With a swift, practiced movement, he dodged the senior's wild swing and landed a solid punch to his gut.

The senior doubled over, gasping for air, and Jonathan followed up with a series of blows to his face.

The crowd gasped and cheered, some students recording the fight on their phones. Marcel watched in horror, his heart pounding in his chest. This was no longer a simple scuffle; it was a brutal, one-sided beatdown.

I pushed my way through the crowd, my eyes fixed on the unfolding scene. I don't want to get involved. But I can't just stand here and watch someone get hurt.

Jonathan, I'm not helping you, I'm just bored.

Swuuush! With a sudden burst of speed, I stepped forward and swung my leg, connecting with the senior's face in a swift, powerful kick.

The senior stumbled backward, clutching his face in pain. He glared at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of shock and rage.

"What the hell?!" he roared, his voice booming through the cafeteria. "Did you just kick me?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe," I replied, a smirk playing on my lips.

"Xian..." a voice called out, stopping me from escalating the situation further.

I turned to see Jonathan standing behind me, his arms crossed and a stern expression on his face. "You don't need to do this," he said, his voice low and steady. "It's my business."

"Perhaps," I replied, my eyes fixed on the fallen senior. "But I don't want to see any more bullying in this school."

The senior, still clutching his face, looked up at me with pure hatred in his eyes. "I remember you," he spat out. "You're the one who locked us in that room all night!"

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