Because the spice from the food had gone straight into Tyron's eyes, he let out a strangled, animalistic scream and staggered backward, clawing desperately at his face as though he could physically rip the burning away.
"AAARGH! My eyes! What the hell did you do?!"
His chair overturned behind him with a violent crash. The metal legs screeched across the cafeteria tiles as he stumbled blindly, colliding into a table and sending trays skidding.
The sharp, oily scent of chili rose thick into the air, stinging even the bystanders' noses. Several students recoiled instinctively, hands flying to their mouths as they scrambled out of his path.
A drink cup tipped over. Red sauce splattered across the floor.
In the middle of the chaos, Zevi did not move.
He calmly reached for a serviette, wiped his fingers one by one with unhurried precision, and folded the paper neatly before placing it beside his tray. His expression remained flat; not angry, not amused, not even satisfied. Just cold.
"Why are you asking useless questions?" he said, voice level and unbothered. "You got what you deserved. Do you have a problem with that?"
Tyron blinked furiously, tears streaming uncontrollably down his reddened cheeks. He forced one eye open through the burning and locked onto Zevi with naked hatred.
"You insane bastard! Do you even know who I am?" he roared hoarsely. "Do you know who my father is?!"
Zevi tilted his head slightly, genuinely pretending to consider it. His brows knit together in exaggerated contemplation.
"No idea," he replied. "Enlighten me. Though judging from your behavior, I can make a few guesses."
A ripple of suppressed laughter traveled through the surrounding tables. Some students quickly looked down, pretending to eat. Others weren't subtle at all.
Tyron's humiliation thickened the air.
Rianne stepped forward.
Fury radiated from her like heat from a forge. Her red-streaked hair swung sharply over her shoulder as she pointed a trembling finger at Zevi.
"You arrogant animal. Do you think you can get away with this.."
Ptooey!
The wet sound cut through her sentence like a blade.
The cafeteria fell into stunned silence.
Zevi had spat at her feet.
The saliva landed just beside her shoe, glistening faintly under the overhead lights.
"Back off," he said, his tone turning glacial. "The way you speak reeks worse than garbage."
A collective gasp rippled outward. Someone audibly sucked in a breath. Another dropped their fork. The confrontation had shifted from heated argument to open war.
Rianne slowly lowered her gaze to her shoe.
Her face drained of color for half a second, then flushed violently crimson. The veins near her temples became visible as humiliation and rage twisted together inside her chest.
"You… you spat on me?" she whispered, her voice shaking not from weakness, but from disbelief.
Zevi lazily waved his hand in front of her.
"Yes. Why? You need confirmation?"
Before she could launch herself at him, heavy footsteps approached.
Deliberate. Controlled. Measured.
Rax stepped forward from Tyron's group.
Two swords rested at his waist, their polished hilts gleaming under the cafeteria lights. His posture was steady, grounded, the kind of presence that didn't need to announce itself.
Ashan, who had already risen halfway from his seat, fully stood when he recognized him.
An A-ranker.
Rax.
Tyron pointed blindly in Zevi's direction while still blinking away tears.
"Rax! Did you see what this lunatic did to me?! Make him apologize!"
Rax stopped directly in front of Zevi. They were nearly the same height. The space between them felt charged, like static before a lightning strike.
"Zevi," Rax said evenly, though anger simmered beneath the calm. "We meet again. Still causing scenes, I see."
Zevi's lips curved faintly.
"Funny hearing that from someone who couldn't stand straight the last time we crossed paths."
A murmur passed through the crowd. So there was history.
Rax's jaw tightened subtly. His pride had been touched, but he did not explode.
"Your provocations won't work on me," he said quietly. "That was then. I've grown stronger. Much stronger. Don't mistake the past for the present."
Zevi looked him up and down slowly, openly skeptical.
"I doubt that."
The insult was casual. That made it worse.
Rax's gaze shifted.
Elara was trembling in Nevil's arms, face buried against his chest, shoulders shaking from the earlier distress.
"Why are you meddling in this?" Rax asked coldly. "This isn't your business."
Zevi's eyes hardened.
"The girl your friend was harassing is my friend's girlfriend. That makes it my business."
He jerked his chin toward Tyron and Rianne.
"I stepped in because that idiot and his loudmouth partner were crossing lines."
Rax's expression darkened immediately.
"Watch your mouth."
"Or what?" Zevi replied.
Rax placed an arm protectively around Rianne's shoulders.
"She's my girlfriend. You have a problem with that?"
Zevi froze for half a second.
"Your girlfriend?"
A strange silence followed.
Then,
A snort escaped him.
And then he burst into full laughter.
Not restrained. Not polite.
It rang through the cafeteria with sharp, echoing clarity. He slapped his own forehead and pointed at Rax as if he had just heard the greatest joke of the semester.
"Oh man… that's rich. That's really rich."
The crowd broke.
Some students tried to hold it in, shoulders shaking. Others failed completely.
Rianne's humiliation deepened into something uglier. Rax's patience visibly fractured.
"Why are you laughing?" Rax growled. "Stop it."
Zevi wiped at the corner of his eye.
"I've seen a lot of 'perfect matches' lately," he said between lingering chuckles. "But this? This is art."
He threw an arm around Ashan's shoulder.
"Truly legendary."
Even Ashan allowed himself a small exhale of amusement.
That was the final strike.
Rax's hand shot to the hilt of his sword.
The cafeteria atmosphere snapped tight.
"If you don't shut your mouth," Rax said in a low voice that carried unmistakable threat, "I'll cut it off."
The laughter died instantly.
Zevi spread his arms slightly.
"Come on then."
Rax stepped forward.
Ashan and Nevil moved at the same time, intercepting.
"You're not drawing weapons in the cafeteria," Ashan said calmly.
"Move," Rax ordered.
Ashan did not budge. Instead, he subtly gestured toward the rules board mounted on the wall.
"You're aware of where we are. Weapons are prohibited. Violation means suspension at best."
"You think I care?" Rax snapped.
Ashan met his gaze steadily.
"You should."
Something in Ashan's eyes made Rax hesitate.
Memory surfaced.
The breath-holding record.
The B-rank duel where Ashan had shattered expectations.
Rax stepped closer and pressed his fist against Ashan's chest, applying pressure, testing him.
"I'm A-rank," he said quietly. "You think you can handle that?"
Ashan did not flinch.
Rax increased the force.
It felt like pressing against reinforced steel.
A faint chill crawled up Rax's spine.
'What is this strength?'
Ashan tilted his head slightly.
"That's not the problem we should focus on," he said evenly. "I admit Zevi was rude. But your friend publicly slandered a girl who was already cornered. That's harassment. Possibly defamation. That's worse."
His tone was measured. Logical. Controlled.
Rax scoffed and pointed toward Rianne's shoe.
"And what about this? She's a woman too. Your friend spat on her. Isn't that harassment?"
Ashan nodded without hesitation.
"Yes. It's disrespectful. And unnecessary."
Zevi glanced sideways at him.
"But context matters," Ashan continued. "She escalated the situation. She reinforced false accusations. She chose humiliation over de-escalation."
Rianne's eyes flared.
"So now I'm the villain?"
Ashan looked at her directly.
"I'm saying accountability applies to everyone."
The crowd murmured again; softer now, but heavier.
Then his gaze sharpened further.
"And it feels worse when a woman joins in cornering another woman with false accusations."
"You are seriously disgusting."
Rianne grabbed Rax's arm, fingers digging into the fabric.
"Why are you just standing there?" she demanded, voice trembling. "He's insulting me in front of everyone. Do something!"
For a brief second, something absurd flashed through Ashan's mind, a line from a romance anime he once watched casually. A male lead delivering a reckless comment during an argument.
The memory was out of place.
But the timing was perfect.
Ashan looked at Rianne again. A faint smile curved at the corner of his lips; not warm, not friendly. Provocative.
"Why so angry?" he asked softly, tilting his head.
Then he said it.
"Is it that time of the month?"
The words fell like a detonated spell.
A spoon slipped from someone's hand and shattered against a plate.
A student choked.
Utensils clattered.
Silence swallowed the cafeteria whole.
Even Elara stopped crying mid-breath.
Narasha's eyes widened.
Nevil stood frozen.
Zevi stared at Ashan as if he had just willingly stepped onto a battlefield alone.
Rax's grip loosened slightly; not by choice, but from shock.
Rianne's entire body trembled violently now.
Her face burned red. Her breathing turned uneven.
"W… What did you say?"