The King and the Savage

—Well then, gorilla, why don't you go back to the jungle you came from? You've already made enough of a scene for today. —Ryuuen continued his provocation, his mocking smile making it clear he was doing it on purpose. Maybe he wanted to test Housen's tolerance level… although, for someone with such a short fuse, patience wasn't exactly his strong suit.

Housen let out a deep, menacing chuckle before responding:

—You sure talk big, Ryuuen… but you're too much of a coward to face me. You even hide behind a weak little woman.

His words were direct, but what made the air grow tense wasn't his tone—it was the way his eyes locked onto Ibuki Mio.

—What the hell did you just call me, bastard? —Ibuki spat furiously, stepping forward.

Housen raised an eyebrow, making no effort to hide his amusement.

—Seems like even your lackeys are just as mouthy as you —he muttered before fixing his gaze on Ibuki—. I called you "weak," tomboy.

That was the last straw.

Ibuki's muscles tensed immediately, and without thinking twice, she launched a direct kick at Housen's face. The speed and decisiveness of her attack would have caught most people off guard… but not Housen. For someone who had grown up fighting, attacks like these were almost instinctual to predict.

With a quick motion, he raised his left arm and blocked the kick, feeling the impact vibrate through his forearm.

—You've got good legs, woman —he said with a smirk—. But you're still too weak.

Before Ibuki could react, Housen extended his free hand and grabbed her by the neck, lifting her effortlessly. His fingers tightened, cutting off her air.

Ibuki's eyes widened in fury and surprise, while Ryuuen watched with a sly smile, not moving an inch.

—Well, leader? —Housen glanced at Ryuuen, increasing the pressure on Ibuki's throat—. Are you going to do something, or will you keep hiding behind your bitch?

The atmosphere grew suffocating. The fight had only just begun.

—Well, Ryuuen, looks like you're having fun with the first-years —a calm yet firm voice suddenly interrupted.

The voice came from behind Housen. Before he could react, a hand gently rested on his shoulder.

—Little kohai, could you let go of my dear friend Ibuki? —the voice continued, carrying a deceptively friendly tone—. She doesn't seem to be having a good time.

Kayden Osawa, the leader of Class A's second years, had entered the scene.

Housen turned his head with a frown, his eyes filled with disdain as he looked at the newcomer.

—Hah? And who the hell are you to tell me what to do?

Of course, someone like Housen wouldn't obey anyone's orders. He only recognized the authority of those who proved to be stronger than him. To him, the world followed a single rule: the strong devour the weak. And if you were weak, you didn't even deserve his attention.

But Kayden simply sighed with a slight smile, as if he already knew what was going to happen.

—It's not a choice.

Before Housen could react, Kayden squeezed his shoulder with sudden, calculated force. A sharp pain shot through his arm, forcing him to loosen his grip. Ibuki fell to the ground, gasping for air.

—Agh, you bastard...! —Housen growled, but his complaint turned into a choked gasp when Kayden increased the pressure.

His body reacted instinctively. His legs trembled, and against his will, he dropped to one knee, gritting his teeth.

The Class A leader looked down at him, his expression serene yet commanding.

—See? This is what it feels like when someone stronger imposes their will on you —Kayden whispered, still applying pressure—. Isn't that the law of the jungle you like so much?

Housen clenched his fists in rage, but at that moment, for the first time, he felt something new: a presence crushing him like a predator hunting its prey.

The fight… might have ended before it even began.

Kayden had been watching the situation from the start. He had stayed on the sidelines, carefully evaluating Housen Kazuomi. It didn't take long to understand what kind of person he was: a brute who only followed the rule of raw strength. Like any other of his kind, if he found someone stronger, he had only two options—shut up or protest uselessly.

But Housen wasn't willing to leave things like that. He had been humiliated in front of too many people. He, of all people, had never lost a fight. It didn't matter if his opponent was older or more experienced—he always came out on top. And, of course, he had never—ever—knelt before anyone.

But this time was different.

His body was on high alert, as if a warning signal had gone off deep within his instincts. Something about Kayden told him this guy was dangerous. He had never felt such overwhelming pressure before. Yet, rather than snuffing out his fighting spirit, that sensation only fueled his rage even more.

Just as he was about to make a move, a voice rang out among the students.

—What's going on here?

The murmurs immediately died down. It was a familiar voice, one that the second-year Class D students recognized instantly.

Ryuuen clicked his tongue in annoyance.

—Tsk. Did you have to show up just when things were getting interesting, Sakagami?

The man who had arrived was Sakagami Kazuma, the homeroom teacher of Class D.

Kayden slightly turned his head toward him, maintaining his usual smile.

—Nothing's happening, sensei. Our first-year friend here was just… tying his shoes. Isn't that right?

His gaze landed on Housen, his smile laced with mockery.

Housen gritted his teeth. His pride demanded that he attack, that he tear that guy apart in front of everyone. But at the same time, his body still remembered the pressure of that grip.

Finally, he let out an irritated click of his tongue and turned around with a grunt.

—Tch. Let's go, Nanase.

Without another word, Housen walked away through the hallways, but not before throwing one last glare at Kayden.

No, for Housen, this wasn't over.

The humiliation he had just suffered wouldn't be forgotten. His pride demanded an answer, a rematch. No matter how long it took, he would find a way to strike back.

As his silhouette disappeared into the crowd, the students resumed their activities as if nothing had happened. However, in Housen's mind, resentment had already taken root.