Xander's hands clenched into fists, the pain in his head still throbbing, but now something else was taking over—rage. He was done with being the victim, done with feeling powerless. The anger surged through him like a storm, and without thinking, he threw a punch.
It was a wild, desperate swing, but it connected. His fist landed square on the face of the bully who had shoved him earlier. There was a sickening crack, and the boy stumbled back, hands flying to his nose. Blood immediately began to pour from his nostrils, and for a moment, everything stopped.
The other boys stared at Xander, their faces going from amused to furious in an instant.
"Oh, you're gonna regret that, pretty boy," one of them snarled, his eyes narrowing with dangerous intent.
Xander's heart was racing in his chest, adrenaline flooding his system. The rush of being able to land a hit—any hit—was a fleeting victory. But it was a victory nonetheless. And it was the only one he'd get.
Before he could even prepare himself for what came next, the bullies were on him, their fury unleashed.
The one with the bloody nose lunged first, grabbing Xander by the collar and shoving him back into the wall with a sickening thud. The force of the impact rattled his brain, and for a moment, the world spun.
"You think you're tough now?" the bully growled, his hands tightening around Xander's shirt, lifting him off the ground.
Xander tried to swing again, but his body was already unsteady, his legs weak from the assault. His fists flew, but they were clumsy, slow. His strength was nowhere near enough to stop the onslaught that was coming.
The others moved in quickly, each one taking their turn to deliver punishing blows. A hard slap to the side of his head. A punch to his stomach that left him gasping for air. A kick to his knee that sent him crumpling to the pavement.
The pain was blinding, overwhelming, and Xander's vision began to blur again. But even in the haze, one thought screamed at him: he couldn't let them win.
But his body betrayed him. The world seemed to stretch and contract as the blows continued, each one landing with brutal force.
"Look at him," one of the boys laughed, a voice filled with cruel amusement. "What a joke. Thought you could fight back, huh?"
Xander's hands went up instinctively, trying to shield himself from the next hit, but it was no use. They were relentless now, their anger only growing with each second. His mind screamed at him to do something—anything—but his body was sluggish, too slow to react.
Just as one of the bullies raised his fist for another punch, a hand shot out from behind Xander, catching the bully's arm mid-swing. The force of the impact stopped the blow in its tracks.
"Are you all right, kid?" a voice said, gruff.
Xander's head snapped toward the sound, his blurred vision clearing just enough to see a man standing behind him. He was tall, muscular, with a mop of blonde hair and an unmistakable, confident presence. His intense blue eyes locked on the bully, exuding the kind of calm authority that made Xander's pulse race.
Xander didn't need to ask. There was no mistaking the voice—the look—the way he carried himself. Johnny Lawrence.
Xander's heart skipped a beat, but he forced himself to stay calm, making sure his face remained neutral. He couldn't give away his excitement, not now.
Johnny's gaze shifted to the bullies, who stood frozen for a moment, clearly thrown off by his sudden appearance. The one with the bloody nose scowled.
"Hey, man, this is none of your business," the bully spat, his voice full of defiance.
Johnny's eyes narrowed, and without missing a beat, he shoved the bully back with a swift motion. "It is now," he said coldly.
Miguel, standing slightly behind Johnny, took a step forward, his posture straight but unsure. He had the right idea but still lacked the technique. "Yeah, you wanna keep this up?" he said, but his voice had more uncertainty than confidence. "We can do this all day."
The bullies didn't back down. If anything, their anger grew. The one with the bloody nose wiped his face and looked at his friends.
"Get him!" he yelled.
The three of them rushed at Johnny and Miguel.
Johnny moved like a machine. The first bully went down in seconds, a swift jab to the stomach followed by an uppercut that sent him stumbling backward, gasping for air.
Miguel, on the other hand, tried to duck under a wild swing from the second bully but missed his mark and got clipped on the side of the head. He winced but quickly recovered, throwing a punch back, though it was sloppy and lacked the precision Johnny displayed. Still, it made the bully take a step back.
"Not bad, Miguel," Johnny called out, his voice tinged with approval but also a hint of impatience. "But focus!"
Miguel's face flushed as he nodded, trying to refocus. He wasn't perfect yet, but with Johnny's guidance, he was getting there.
Meanwhile, the last bully lunged at Miguel with a roar, throwing a punch aimed at his face. Miguel dodged it but staggered as he tried to retaliate. Johnny, seeing his disciple's lack of control, immediately stepped in. He shoved Miguel aside and landed a crushing blow to the bully's chest, knocking the air out of him.
The bullies, clearly outmatched, hesitated, fear creeping into their eyes. Johnny and Miguel stood, ready for the next move.
"What's wrong, you little punks?" Johnny smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Thought you were gonna have some fun? Guess you picked the wrong guys to mess with."
"Yeah," Miguel added, his voice a bit more confident now, though still unsure. "Next time, you better think twice."
The three bullies, beaten and humiliated, slowly retreated, nursing their injuries. They shot glares at Johnny and Miguel but didn't dare make another move.
"That's how we do it," Johnny said with a satisfied grin, slapping Miguel on the back. "Not bad, huh?"
Miguel grinned back, though his expression was a little less smug than Johnny's. "Could've done better."
"You will," Johnny said. "I'm gonna make a fighter out of you yet."
Xander, still reeling from the surreal experience, stood there as the pink holographic window suddenly appeared in front of him. The words flashed in bold letters, glowing with an intensity that made his heart race.
[Quest Completed!]
A surge of excitement and confusion flooded through him as the window continued to glow. It displayed the following:
[You've been rewarded with 10 EXP and the Passive Skill, Basic Combat Instincts!]
Xander blinked, staring at the words. A quest? He quickly glanced at Johnny and Miguel, wondering if they could see it too, but they were too busy discussing the fight. It was clear they had no idea what was going on.
Xander felt a strange sensation, as if his body was absorbing something new. His instincts felt sharper, his movements more fluid, and the pain from the earlier beatings seemed to fade just a little.
Johnny slapped him on the back, jarring him out of his thoughts. "Hey, you're all right, kid. But if you're gonna get into this, you've got to put in the work. You'll have to learn Karate! What do you think of joining my dojo, the Cobra Kai?"
Xander nodded, still processing what had just happened. He was in the world of Cobra Kai—and this time, he wasn't going to be a punching bag. He was going to make the most of this opportunity, whatever strange game was playing out in the background.
But then, as the adrenaline began to fade, another thought crept into his mind, pulling him back to reality. But do I have the money to pay for the lessons?
He glanced at Johnny, who was grinning with that familiar cocky smile, and then over to Miguel, who was still catching his breath, clearly trying to suppress the excitement of the fight. Xander could feel the pull to join them, to learn from them, but...
"I would like to," Xander said slowly, breaking the brief silence, "but... I don't have the money to pay for the lessons..."
To be continued...