"Ouch, that's going to leave a mark," Jules mutters as we watch yet another team get torn apart.
The one-hour mark hit, and already, two teams had crumbled under her hands. Jessicah's bouts were nothing short of madness. She didn't just beat you—she toyed with you, making you believe you stood a chance, only to crush you at the last second.
"She's insane," Jules whispers, eyes wide as Jessicah dismantles the third squad with ease.
Our team is next, and we watch in silence as she finishes them off with a smirk.
"Next!" Jessicah's voice echoes across the arena, cold and commanding.
"Guess it's our turn," Jules says, stepping forward with confidence.
"Wait," I call out, grabbing her wrist.
She glances back at me. "What now?"
"I'm going in alone," I announce, stepping past her and climbing into the ring.
"What?" Jules exclaims, her eyes narrowing in disbelief.
Jessicah tilts her head, a smirk playing at her lips. "You do know this is a team competition, right? If you fail—"
"Who said anything about failing?" I meet her gaze and turn to Jules. "Trust me on this. Sit back, and I'll lead us to victory. Besides," I smirk, "I've got a score to settle with her."
Jessicah's eyebrow arches. "Mmm? Do we know each other?"
I raise my fists, readying my stance. "You know what they say—knuckle fighting…"
"Is the best way to communicate between great friends," she finishes, her smile widening. "That's my master's phrase. Who the hell—"
Before she can finish, I rush forward, launching a punch aimed right for her. She barely sidesteps, the air between us buzzing with tension.
"What's with all the talking?" L sneers, closing the distance with lightning speed. Her hand shoots toward mine, trying to trap me, but I deflect with a quick parry.
[Skill activated: SkyLock Grapple]
I dash in, aiming to lock her in place, but she's faster than I anticipated. She deflects and retaliates with a swift back jump kick that forces me to leap back. Her smirk never falters.
[Skill activated: Cool Down]
I feel the energy flood back into my limbs as my stamina replenishes. With renewed vigor, I dash forward again, and this time, we collide in a flurry of blows. Fists and feet clash as we try to overwhelm each other, but she's damn fast. A few of her strikes connect, sending jolts of pain through me, but I'm built stronger, and I take advantage of the difference.
I graze her with a punch, quickly pulling her toward me as I move behind her.
[Skill activated: Iron Vise]
I lock both her arms, holding her head in place as I jump, wrapping my legs around her waist. With a grunt, I increase the pressure, trying to immobilize her completely, but Jessicah twists her body fluidly, slipping out of the hold with an impossible grace. She retaliates with a kick, but I manage to evade just in time.
As I rise, I glance at her. She's smiling, but it's different now—dangerous. The air around her shifts, charged with a new intensity.
"You're something else," she murmurs, eyes gleaming. "Interesting. You're not at the intermediate level, are you? You're in the advanced stage."
I smirk back. "That obvious?"
"You little bastard."
"And you know what?" I taunt her, a wicked grin curling my lips. "You're damn hot when you're like this, all fired up."
Her expression darkens, fury flashing in her eyes. She hates it when someone underestimates her because of her gender.
"You're dead!" she screams, leaping toward me with raw ferocity.
Exactly what I wanted.
[Skill activated: Fractured Time. Time limit: 5 minutes.]
Everything slows to a crawl. Jessicah's leap freezes midair, her body suspended as if caught in time. My blood hums with energy, senses heightened. When time resumes, I easily sidestep her punch, countering with a kick that she blocks, but I'm already on her, launching a series of rapid punches and kicks. This time, she's on the defensive.
[One minute down; four remaining.]
The timer ticks away in my mind, but I can't focus on it. Our fight reaches a fever pitch, each move faster and sharper than the last. She grins through the barrage, acknowledging my strength as we continue to exchange blows. Her strikes are still fast, but I can read her every move now.
[Three minutes left.]
Her next attack, I block effortlessly, retaliating with a crushing blow that makes her stumble. But she recovers quickly, a fire in her eyes that matches my own.
[Two minutes remaining.]
We're evenly matched. Every hit feels like it could be the last, yet neither of us backs down. Our bodies move in perfect rhythm, reading each other's intentions as though we've fought a thousand times before.
[One minute left.]
She pushes forward with renewed vigor, but I'm ready, meeting her head-on. Our fists collide in a bone-jarring impact, the force reverberating through the arena.
[Five seconds remaining.]
I can feel the skill wearing off, my movements slowing as time returns to normal. As the last second ticks away, we both leap back, panting at opposite ends of the ring.
Jessicah chuckles, her chest heaving. "I gotta say, I haven't had this much fun in a long time."
I smirk, ready to respond, but my vision blurs. The effects of Fractured Time hit me hard, and before I can brace myself, darkness swallows me whole. It was worth it, though. I kept my promise.
Entering cellular repair mode… Initiating death state…
Wake up to the beepin sound. Looking around and Jessicah and Jules are sitted around me.
"He has come to it," Jules screams.
I sigh as I realize am back in the dispensary
The exam hall was dead silent, save for the occasional sound of pencils scratching against paper and the soft shuffling of restless students. The weight of four hours of intense focus loomed ahead, and the only thing breaking that silence was the occasional cough or the nervous tapping of feet beneath desks. I sat there, arms resting on the wooden desk, staring down at the test paper in front of me.
This test—it felt so familiar. I'd already taken it before. After all, I had been here before. Not in the usual sense, though. I'd lived this, died, and come back, memories intact. This wasn't cheating—it was just taking advantage of time itself.
Bodyguard Tactical Analysis: Critical Decision Making read the bold text at the top of the page. A four-hour written test meant to assess our mental approach to protecting a client under critical conditions. A necessary test, but tedious. I flicked through the questions, already knowing what was coming.
The first question was straightforward enough.
Question 1:
In a situation where the client is under direct attack in an open space with no cover, explain the immediate actions a bodyguard should take to shield the client and move them to safety.
Easy. I started jotting down the steps, the answer flowing naturally. Shield the client, look for cover, move low and fast, assess the attacker's position, etc. It wasn't rocket science, just strategy.
Next to me, Jules was already scratching her head. She had a knack for practical work but seemed utterly lost in theory.
"This is stupid," she muttered under her breath. I glanced sideways to see her staring at the paper as if it were written in an alien language.
"Trouble already?" I whispered, not bothering to hide my smirk.
"Don't start with me," she muttered, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "I swear, theory just doesn't click for me."
"Just think it through logically," I said. "You know this stuff, even if it's written down."
"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled, returning to her paper. I kept writing, moving on to the second question.
Question 2:
In a high-speed vehicle chase, explain the most effective course of action a bodyguard should take to avoid enemy pursuit while ensuring the client remains safe.
Another straightforward one. Defensive driving, decoy tactics, communication with the client—I'd written the answer before I'd even finished the thought.
A soft sigh from Jules made me glance her way again. She was stuck again. Her pencil was tapping on the desk as her frustration grew.
But it was Question 4 that really got to her.
Question 4:
In the event of an explosive threat, and the client is located in a crowded venue, explain the bodyguard's approach to minimizing casualties while extracting the client without causing panic.
I smirked. This one, I remembered, had stumped most of the class the last time we did it. But not me. I already had the answer forming in my head.
My Answer:
Client first: Guide the client to safety without causing panic.
Avoid crowded exits: Use the least crowded route to prevent drawing attention.
Keep it quiet: Maintain calm, communicate quietly with the team.
Cover and assess: Ensure there's no immediate secondary threat while moving the client.
I finished jotting down my thoughts when I noticed Jules shaking her head.
"What's your problem now?" I whispered.
"This is all wrong," she whispered back. "That's not how I'd handle it."
"Really?" I asked, leaning closer. "So how would you handle it?"
She glanced around quickly to make sure no one was paying attention, then leaned in.
"First of all, you're overthinking this. Screw minimizing panic. You've got an explosive threat in a crowded venue. Panic's going to happen no matter what."
I frowned. "You can't just—"
"Let me finish," she interrupted. "You're thinking like a *bodyguard*. This isn't just about the client. The moment there's an explosive threat, your job is also to make sure the space is cleared. If you focus too much on keeping things quiet, people will get caught in the blast."
"But if you cause panic, people will trample each other," I countered.
Jules rolled her eyes. "Trampling or explosion—pick your poison. If I were handling this, I'd alert the authorities immediately, get them to clear the crowd fast, and use the chaos as a cover to extract the client."
I blinked at her. "You'd cause chaos on purpose?"
She nodded, completely serious. "Think about it. If you try to keep everything quiet and orderly, you risk getting everyone caught in the blast. Sometimes, a little chaos is exactly what you need to save lives. You've got to think bigger than just one client."
I stared at her, the military mind of hers taking over. "You're thinking like a soldier, not a bodyguard. We're supposed to protect one person, Jules."
She shook her head. "Not when you're in a crowded venue with a bomb. You're dealing with everyone's lives at that point."
I leaned back in my chair, her words making sense in a way I hadn't considered. "You've got a point," I admitted. "But still, I don't think they're going to like that answer on the test."
She smirked. "Probably not, but it's the truth."
The next question caught my eye as I turned the page.
Question 5:
During a high-profile political event, the client receives a credible threat of assassination. The venue is surrounded, exits are limited, and the client insists on continuing the event. Explain the immediate steps to safeguard the client without causing disruption.
I paused for a moment, memories of how I handled this the last time surfacing. Back then, I'd panicked, not sure how to navigate the client's stubbornness, and it had almost cost everything. This time, I knew better.
My Answer:
Evaluate the threat: Gather information on the threat, determine the level of risk.
Keep the client calm but firm: Explain the seriousness of the situation without inciting fear.
Adjust security protocol: Double security, change positions, and ensure the exits are covered by trusted personnel.
Backup plan: Have a secondary extraction route, even if the client insists on staying.
Just as I finished, I noticed Jules rubbing her temples again, visibly frustrated.
"Don't tell me you have a problem with this one too," I whispered.
"Oh, I do," she said through clenched teeth. "This question is *so* unrealistic."
I raised an eyebrow. "It's a common scenario. Assassination threats happen all the time at political events."
She shot me a look. "I'm not talking about the threat. I'm talking about the *client*. No one in their right mind would insist on continuing an event if their life was at risk."
"You'd be surprised," I muttered. "Some clients are too proud or stubborn to back down."
Jules shook her head. "If it were me, I wouldn't even bother talking to the client. I'd pull them out by force if necessary."
"You'd drag the client out kicking and screaming?" I asked, half-amused.
"If it's between them being alive and their pride, hell yeah," she said, her tone firm. "The moment there's a credible threat, I wouldn't take chances. Protocol be damned. You're there to protect them, not coddle them."
"You're forgetting one thing," I countered. "We're not just protecting their life. We're protecting their reputation too. If you cause a scene, you might save them from the assassin, but you'll kill their career."
Jules crossed her arms. "Better an alive politician with a ruined career than a dead one with a good image."
I chuckled. "You're too practical for this test."
"Call it what you want," she muttered, "but these scenarios aren't as clean-cut as they make them out to be."
Question 6:
During a high-risk hostage situation, the client is held at gunpoint, and negotiations are underway. The attacker is volatile but not yet violent. Describe how the bodyguard should handle the situation to ensure the client's safety without aggravating the attacker.
This was more of a textbook case. I could almost hear our instructor's voice in my head as I wrote out the answer.
My Answer:
Maintain distance: Keep the attacker calm by not making any sudden movements or threats.
Communicate with the negotiators: Ensure that you're aligned with the negotiation team's approach.
Watch for weaknesses: Monitor the attacker's body language for any signs of instability or hesitation.
No heroics: Do not attempt to disarm or confront unless there's no other choice.
Jules sighed next to me. "Finally, something that makes sense."
"You're not going to argue with this one?" I teased.
"Nope," she said, leaning back in her chair. "Even I can't argue with hostage situations. You don't mess around with that."
"Glad we're on the same page for once."