On my way to school, I ran into the same 7th graders who had beaten up Shin.
The moment they spotted me, one of them sneered. "Hey, isn't that the kid who hangs out with that wannabe hero?"
The rest of them laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. I didn't react. Instead, I just stared at them—silent, cold, and unmoving. My face hardened, my eyes locked onto theirs, and for a moment, the air around us felt heavy.
"If you mess with Shin or any of my friends again," I said, my voice calm but sharp, "you're dead."
They scoffed. "Look at this little 6th grader trying to act tough," one of them said, stepping closer. "You're nothing."
I didn't reply. Instead, I did something that immediately set him off.
I spit in his face.
His expression twisted with rage. He swung at me—fast, but not fast enough. I weaved to the side, letting his fist hit nothing but air. Another guy lunged forward, trying to grab me, but I lashed out with a sharp kick to his gut, sending him stumbling backward.
The first guy, still dazed from missing his punch, was wide open. I stepped in and drove my fist into his nose, feeling the crunch as blood sprayed from his nostrils.
The third guy behind me hesitated for just a second—long enough for me to spin and slam my elbow into his face. His head snapped back, and a swollen red mark instantly formed where I hit him.
The last guy, seeing his friends beaten in seconds, panicked. His tough act crumbled as he turned and bolted down the street.
I smirked, watching him flee.
"What a bunch of pussies."