Ring—
The class dismissal bell rang through the oppressive air, sounding like a death knell for Yoru Tsukigami.
Ryuji Onizuka sneered. With his arm around his girlfriend, Mina Aizawa, and three of his lackeys in tow, he slowly surrounded Ian.
Lifting a foot clad in a limited-edition sneaker, he viciously kicked Ian's desk, sending it crashing to the floor.
Brand-new textbooks scattered across the ground with dull thuds.
One of the lackeys stepped forward, stomping his sole hard onto a page printed with algebraic functions and grinding his heel into it.
"Hey, Yoru Tsukigami."
He spoke with disdain, his tone dripping with mockery.
"Haven't seen you for a day, and you've learned how to dress up?"
"I almost thought you went and got plastic surgery."
Another lackey, his face covered in flab, grabbed Ian by the collar and roughly hauled him up from his seat.
With a mouth reeking of severe halitosis practically pressed against Ian's face, he roared deafeningly,
"Who the hell are you trying to act all deep and brooding for?"
"Are you really Yoru Tsukigami, you bastard?!"
"Then where's the money I told you to bring yesterday?! Did you bring it?"
Their actions were incredibly arrogant and thuggish.
The surrounding students hastily backed away to clear a space, but everyone's faces bore expressions of schadenfreude, ready to watch a good show.
Not a single person stepped forward to stop them.
At that moment, Onizuka's girlfriend, Mina Aizawa, stepped forward. She first carefully checked the school badge pinned to Ian's chest, where the name "Yoru Tsukigami" was clearly visible.
After confirming it, a sickly, twisted smile actually appeared on her face as she whined coquettishly to Ryuji Onizuka,
"Ryuji, he... he really is Yoru Tsukigami."
"I didn't expect him to be so good-looking in person. Please, could you go a little easy on him? Just don't hit his face, okay?"
Those words fanned the already roaring flames of jealousy within Ryuji Onizuka.
"Interesting."
Ryuji Onizuka shoved aside the lackey blocking his way and grabbed Ian's collar himself, scrutinizing his flawless face as if inspecting a piece of merchandise.
"I didn't expect a piece of trash like you to have this kind of use."
"Tell you what, I'll forget about that little bit of pocket change today."
He leaned in and whispered into Ian's ear.
"After school today, come with me to the red-light district. We're going to maximize the value of that face of yours."
"We'll split the money you earn fifty-fifty. How about it?"
His words were filled with undisguised humiliation.
Behind him, the lackeys immediately let out knowing, vulgar guffaws.
In the face of all this, Ian's expression remained completely unchanged from beginning to end.
He simply reached out and gently swatted away Ryuji Onizuka's hand that was tightly gripping his collar.
Then, elegantly and slowly, he straightened his wrinkled collar.
After doing all this, he spoke in an utterly flat tone about something completely unrelated.
"Onizuka."
"I recall that after school yesterday, the person who picked you up at the school gates was a heavily made-up, scantily clad, and very voluptuous woman, right?"
"Judging by her age, she must be your mother."
"Of course, she could also be your sister."
Everyone froze.
Ian continued, "I wonder which brothel in Shinjuku she works at?"
"I'd very much like to 'patronize' her, as a way to... express my gratitude for all your 'care' in the past."
The air suddenly fell dead silent!
In an instant, you could hear a pin drop in the entire classroom.
Within a single second, Ryuji Onizuka's face went from stunned to bright red, eventually turning a dark, livid purple.
The veins on his forehead throbbed madly like hideous earthworms.
"You bastard!"
He let out an inhuman roar.
"You're fucking dead!"
The surrounding students finally recovered from their shock. Many began pointing fingers at Ian, whispering about his lack of upbringing and how he could say such vicious things to humiliate a classmate's family.
However, their murmurs of condemnation seemed utterly insignificant in the face of Ryuji Onizuka's monstrous fury.
The next second, a right hook containing all his rage whipped up a foul gust of wind, smashing viciously toward Ian's enviably perfect face!
Some timid girls nearby even screamed, as if they could already see the bloody scene of that god-like face being pulverized by the punch.
The fist stopped less than a centimeter away from Ian's cheek.
A pale, slender hand had firmly caught Onizuka's wrist.
That hand felt as though it were cast from solid steel. No matter how red Onizuka's face became or how much of his entire body's strength he used, it didn't budge an inch.
Losing face in front of everyone completely incinerated Ryuji Onizuka's rationality.
Flying into a humiliating rage, he launched his other foot at an incredibly insidious angle, kicking viciously toward Ian's crotch!
"The dying struggles of the weak are truly..."
Ian spoke softly, his voice carrying a faint, almost imperceptible sigh.
"Meaningless."
A flash of light gleamed, so fast that no one could see it clearly.
There was only a soft squelch!
The leg Onizuka had kicked out was cleanly severed right from the base of the thigh!
Trailing a spray of scalding blood, it flew high into the air and smashed heavily against the back wall of the classroom, leaving behind a shocking, bloody smear!
"Ahhh!!!"
Clutching his profusely bleeding stump, Ryuji Onizuka let out a heart-wrenching, completely inhuman shriek!
The brains of the students in the classroom short-circuited for a full second before erupting into a tsunami of screams!
Everyone rushed toward the doors like madmen, as if they had just seen a ghost!
Only to despairingly discover that the front and back doors, as well as the windows, had somehow been completely sealed shut by an invisible force! They couldn't be opened at all!
At some point, a long blade condensed from pure, pitch-black resentment had appeared in Ian's hand.
Warm blood was still dripping from the tip of the blade.
The transparent phantom of Yoru Tsukigami's cursed spirit was excitedly coiling around the blade, letting out a satisfied and cruel silent shriek.
Ian ignored Ryuji Onizuka, who was rolling and wailing on the floor.
Carrying the blade, he walked step by step toward the three lackeys who had collapsed to the ground, scared out of their wits.
His icy eyes swept over their faces, which were twisted in extreme terror, and he asked calmly,
"So, who is next?"
The scent of blood, sickly sweet and warm, rapidly filled every corner of the classroom like the thickest fog.
The classroom had completely devolved into a blood-red purgatory, a stage of despair.
Ryuji Onizuka's three lackeys, who were usually so arrogant and domineering, were now kneeling and groveling on the cold floor.
Sticky liquid dripped down their pant legs, mixing with the dust and emitting a foul stench of urine.
"It's not my fault! It's really not my fault!"
"It's Onizuka! That bastard Ryuji Onizuka ordered us to do it all!"
The first lackey kowtowed so hard his head banged against the floor, the impacts sounding dull and futile.
"Lord Tsukigami! Lord Tsukigami, I was wrong! I was really wrong! I'll never do it again!"
The second lackey was crying and snotting all over his face, his voice filled with terror.
"Let me go! Please! Let me go! Please!"
The third had completely lost the ability to speak coherently, merely repeating that single phrase over and over.