Ryden stood tall, like a hero pushing back against tyranny.
The surrounding girls stared at him with open admiration.
Rocca saw it all, and his rage exploded.
He suddenly swung a fist the size of a bowl straight at Ryden's face. The air whistled as it split apart. If it landed, Ryden would be out cold.
He didn't dodge.
Ryden's left hand, hidden inside his backpack, shot up.
His palm, encased in a simple electronic glove, caught Rocca's wrist head-on.
A sharp electric current surged out.
Over a hundred volts tore through Rocca's body, instantly dropping the two-hundred-pound fat kid to the ground, twitching uncontrollably.
From the moment the conflict started, Ryden had already slipped on his self-defense glove.
A weak current stimulated his palm, nearly doubling his punching speed.
Combined with his visual tracking, that burst of speed let him grab the wrist at its weakest point, avoiding a direct clash of brute strength.
In less than a second, the school's reigning close-combat champion was down like a sack of potatoes, his body jerking as if he were having a seizure.
He was one step away from foaming at the mouth.
Gulp.
The entire area fell silent.
When Rocca threw the punch, some of the girls had instinctively covered their eyes, bracing for blood.
But the "strong" side that should have been standing was the one on the ground.
And the "weak" side had ended it in a single move.
No one could process what they'd just seen.
Dead silence.
"Whoa!! So cool! Ryden, you're amazing!"
"No way... how did he do that?!"
"That glove-did you see that glove?!"
Boys and girls alike stared in disbelief.
It was like a boxing champion fighting a toddler-except the toddler was the one doing the beating.
"Holy crap, Ryden, you're insane!" Terrence blurted out. "You actually turned it around! How'd you do that?"
A moment ago, he'd been worrying about how to drag Ryden to the nurse.
Now Rocca was the one twitching on the ground.
Ryden glanced around, then looked down at his opponent with clear disdain.
"Being fat doesn't mean you win," he said calmly. "Brains are scarier than fists. You wouldn't understand."
He turned away.
"Let's go. We're heading home."
Terrence pointed at the guy still convulsing.
"What about him? He's not dead, right?"
"He won't die. Just a temporary knockout. He'll crawl up soon enough."
Ryden wasn't stupid enough to kill someone on the spot.
He was a peace-loving guy.
If he were going to kill someone, it wouldn't be in public.
Just as they started to leave, a dim-witted lackey rushed over and blocked their path.
"You're not going anywhere!" he shouted. "You dared hurt Boss Rocca?! You're gonna pay! I'm calling the cops!"
He screamed like the man on the ground was his own father.
A natural-born servant.
"Heh," Ryden said flatly. "Then go join him."
He placed a hand on the guy's shoulder.
A micro low-voltage current pulsed.
The lackey immediately started twitching and collapsed beside Rocca.
"Enjoy yourselves," Ryden said. "Use whatever tricks you've got. I'll be waiting."
He had zero sympathy for them.
He used to be powerless. Now that he had the means, if he didn't hit back hard, he wouldn't deserve to be called a hero.
The nearby girls looked at him with pure adoration.
Why hadn't they noticed how handsome he was before?
American culture loved personal heroism. That was why superheroes were so popular.
As long as they were human.
Mutants were a different story.
None of the boys dared block Ryden's path.
They'd just watched two people collapse in seconds. Nobody wanted to be the third.
Besides, those two had awful reputations. No one felt like standing up for them in the name of "justice."
Ten minutes later, Rocca finally regained a bit of strength.
He struggled to crawl up, staring in the direction Ryden had left, his eyes burning with hatred.
He had lost everything today.
If he didn't crush Ryden, how could he ever rule Central High again?
I have to break him.
Once they were out of school, Terrence slapped his chest.
"Brother, don't do stuff that intense again. My heart almost stopped. Haha. Though honestly, we should've beaten that guy down ages ago. See if he still acts cocky."
He paused.
"But after today, this won't end cleanly. That guy knows a lot of gang members. Be careful."
"Don't worry," Ryden said casually. "I know what I'm doing. You just focus on training. You might actually get into that military academy."
Outwardly calm.
Internally, fully alert.
It was clear he needed to move faster.
Peaceful development and quiet wealth weren't options anymore.
"Honestly," Terrence muttered, "out of ten people who get into military school, nine are white. Only one's Black."
Racism was severe. Peace was talked about, but discrimination never disappeared.
"Don't overthink it," Ryden said. "It's better than before. Things will work out. And if not, start as a private. Look at Europe right now-who knows when we'll get dragged into that war."
He patted Terrence's shoulder.
He was right.
In a few years, once Pearl Harbor was blown to pieces, the U.S. would be dragged in whether it wanted to or not.
Back home, Ryden took a shower.
Then he pulled out a suit and the AK-47 assembly parts, packing them into his bag.
School ended at three. Dinner was at six.
Three hours.
Enough time to make arrangements.
Gang members?
Your grandpa's here.
Aunt Sarah was wearing a new outfit today.
An elegant purple dress that outlined her full figure.
Her face was flushed, radiant, like a happily married young wife.
Seeing Ryden dressed neatly with a backpack, she asked softly, "Master Ryden, are you going out? Will you be back for dinner?"
There was a faint wistfulness in her voice.
"Something came up tonight, Aunt Sarah," he said. "Don't wait for me. Eat on your own. I'll be busy for a while."
He paused, then remembered something.
"Oh. I've got something important to tell you when I get back. Here-take this."
He handed her a stack of bills.
"One thousand dollars. For future household expenses. I've got things to do. We'll talk tonight."
Aunt Sarah was about to refuse, but when she heard "household expenses," she bit her lip and fell silent.
Her face flushed red again.
Did that mean... he saw her as the lady of the house?
Lost in thought, she took the money.
"Master Ryden... please be careful," she said softly. "Stay safe."
Just as he turned to leave, she hugged him.
Her embrace was warm and comforting, her virtuous aura almost overwhelming.
Ryden's hands trembled slightly as he returned the hug.
Soft.
Gentle.
Pure, like a hug between friends.
If Steve knew about this...
Would he kill him?