Noah's eyes locked onto Mark. His voice was cold and controlled, but there was venom behind his words. "I don't have time to play games with you, Mark. Stop talking shit, or I'll show you exactly what you deserve."
Mark, confident with his goons flanking him, scoffed and laughed mockingly. "You can't touch me, Noah. Hah! You're just all bark, no bite."
But Noah had enough. His patience, already thin, snapped like a taut string. With slow, deliberate steps, he walked toward Mark, the tension in the air growing with each step. Before anyone could react, Noah grabbed Mark by the collar with one hand and effortlessly lifted him off the ground. The sheer display of strength shocked everyone. Mark, who wasn't exactly small—around 200 pounds lean—flailed helplessly in Noah's grip.
Mark's face twisted in fear and disbelief. "Let go of me! Now!" he sputtered, his bravado crumbling.
