Unfortunately, his retaliation seems as effective as making a wet thread erected. Forget about the beast's ferocious fangs, the terrifying sound of its growl while it gnaws on his shoulder is enough to send his brain into a vegetable blender machine.
The beast shakes its head like it's trying to win a game of tug-of-war, yanking his flesh apart. Once it manages to pull a chunk off his shoulder, Irvine's screams of pain abruptly stop. His brain decides it's had enough trauma for one day and checks out.
However, no long he experiences a blackout…
Deg!!!
The beast suddenly looks like it's seen a ghost. Maybe it felt the weird change in the air, or maybe it just realized it was trying to snack on not a human but a terrifying monster. Agitated, it starts barking right in Irvine's face, like a dog that just found out it's been eating vegan kibble.
In a moment of sheer luck, Irvine's pinky finger accidentally touches something on the floor. His eyes snap open, glaring with the intensity of a thousand suns. Without even checking what he just touched, he grabs it and slams it into the beast's neck.
Jleb!!!
Warm blood wets his hand. Turns out it's a broken crowbar. Who knew that would be so effective at stopping the ugly dog's barking.
He pulls the crowbar out of the beast's neck and then…
Zrsh! Zrsh! Zrsh!!!
He goes berserker, stabbing the beast's neck like he's trying to win a competition for most dramatic death scene. Blood splatters everywhere, turning the already filthy floor into a modern art masterpiece.
"There's no free dinner for you tonight!" he declares, sounding surprisingly calm for someone who's just gone full berserker.
The beast is still pinning him down with its claws lodged in his flesh. But the gray-haired young man, now suddenly becomes so mad, bites the beast's injured neck while stabbing the crowbar into its chest like it owes him money.
This is the first time he's gone this crazy, like he's entirely a different person. He keeps stabbing until the beast finally drops dead on him.
"There's no way I'm letting a glorified dog beat me!"
After pulling the crowbar free, he shoves the beast's lifeless body away like it's an old pizza box.
His left shoulder has been torn so badly, red and oozing. The wound is regenerating, but he's not exactly throwing a party over it.
"Sigh! How am I supposed to fight a Nephilim with a shoulder that lost a fight with a small dog?"
With one fallen arm, he slowly rises like a zombie who just heard a pizza delivery guy passing by. His right hand still holds the broken crowbar tightly, aware that he's surrounded by a whole pack of White Fangs.
Fortunately, these beasts have been watching his little meltdown, and it seems his desperate antics are enough to make them hesitate.
"What are you looking at? Come and fight me if you dare!"
A suffocating aura fills the air, and a few of the beasts back off. Their savage growls are still audible, but none dares to approach.
"Oh, God! My vision is getting blurry!"
Fresh blood drips from the tip of his crowbar. Most of it courtesy of his shoulder, but some are actually blood of the ugly dog he just killed.
He shakes his head, takes a deep breath, and prepares for round two. However, the beasts' survival instincts kick in. Despite his ragged appearance, they're clearly scared of something, probably his wild-eyed look or the fact that he just turned one of their comrades into a blood fountain. In the end, they leave him alone.
"Smart move! You better leave now before I kill you too!"
That's what he says. Due to the blood loss, he finally collapses but manages to stay conscious. The pain in his shoulder is still there, throbbing like a bad pop song stuck in his head, preventing him from sleeping.
Later, four hours after enduring the agony…
"At last!"
He sits up and notices his shoulder is about 75% healed. There are still some small open wounds, but he's not exactly a fan of band-aids.
"Let's get back to your dormitory, shall we?"
As he struggles back to the highway, he leaves a trail of blood dripping from the crowbar. Some White Fangs follow the trail, but still keeping their distance due to their fear.
Once he reaches the gate of Frasklock's western border, the beasts finally stop following him. On the other hand, his terrible appearance makes the gatekeepers mistake him for a zombie having a long march for another set of Walking Dead take.
They immediately raise their guns, ready to open fire. But…
"Hold on! Wait! That's… That's the kid from this afternoon."
"Are you sure?"
One of the gatekeepers fires a warning shot into the sky. The White Fangs scatter in shock. Meanwhile, the gray-haired young man keeps walking toward the gate, looking like he's just returned from a very bad day at the office.
"Kid! Are you still alive?"
"Is that blood on your clothes?"
They question him, suspicious that he might have taken a detour after butchering someone. But he keeps walking in silence, like a brooding hero coming home from a losing war.
One gatekeeper grabs his shoulder. "Hey! Whose blood is on your clothes?"
He glances at the gatekeeper's hand and then back at him before giving an answer.
"It's the beast's blood!"
"What?"
He glances back at the gatekeeper's hand on his shoulder and then gives him a deadpan stare.
"It tried to gnaw on that shoulder, so I killed it!"
His icy stare sends a chill down the gatekeeper's spine. Thus, the gatekeeper quickly retracts his hand, offering an awkward smile as he lets our skinny hero pass.
And so, our skinny hero continues walking by himself in the middle of the night. He occasionally stops at intersections to remember the way home.
Fortunately, there's still a city bus taking this gray-haired young man back to Blemlisk Hill, where Ezlenmir Garden is located. Once he boards the bus and takes a seat, the other passengers start whispering, their faces a mix of confusion and horror.
They are actually students from Ezlenmir Academy, eight girls returning from a music concert. And they recognize his face all too well.
"I think I know this smell!"
It's not just the dirty scenery. He also attacks their noses with the delightful aroma of urine mixed with blood.
"Isn't he that useless Seed E student?"
"I heard he was peed on in public by Mathias Burke and his friends!"
"Eeeeew!"
"So he did confront the Governor's son, huh?"
For some reason, he can hear their whispers and glances back. He looks so intimidating, emitting an odd aura that screams "shut the hell up."
Well, as you might expect, this is no longer Irvine Donovan. It's Livne Atniel, who has taken control of Irvine's body.
Everyone falls silent, except for the two girls sitting at the very back.
"Just look at how skinny he is!"
"No matter how you slice it, he's still as useful as a used toilet paper!"