Chapter 14 Strong counterattack!

Mark looked like an indomitable rebel hero in the face of power! Roca admired him from the group of girls surrounding him, but the anger in his heart couldn't be suppressed.

Without hesitation, he raised his fist and swung at Mark's face, the sound of wind rushing through the air as he struck. If that punch connected, it would surely knock Mark down!

But Mark didn't dodge. Instead, his left hand, hidden in his backpack, quickly shot up, palm wrapped in a simple electronic glove. He caught Roca's wrist mid-attack. A surge of electricity shot from the glove, spreading through Roca's body, and the over 100 volts instantly knocked the 150-pound man to the ground, causing him to twitch uncontrollably.

It turned out that, during the initial conflict, Mark had put on his self-defense gloves. The weak electric current enhanced his punching speed, making him nearly half as fast as before. His keen eyesight, combined with the electric stimulation, allowed him to grab Roca's wrist effortlessly, avoiding any direct collision of force.

In a heartbeat, the once invincible Roca, known for his fighting prowess at school, found himself on the ground, twitching like a sheep having a seizure, nearly foaming at the mouth.

Gulp! Silence fell over the crowd.

As Roca swung, some girls instinctively covered their eyes, fearing a spray of blood. However, the strong man who should have remained standing was now knocked out by someone he considered weaker. No one could react; the scene was one of utter shock!

"Wow, wow! So handsome! Mark, you're amazing!"

"Impossible! How did he do that?"

"Incredible! That glove!"

Both male and female classmates gaped in disbelief, as if watching a boxing champion being taken down by a kindergarten child. The expected outcome had been completely reversed!

"Wow, Mark, you're incredible! How did you pull that off?" Aoli exclaimed, worried about sending Roca to the school nurse, possibly even the hospital. In the blink of an eye, the one lying on the ground had become the hefty Roca.

Mark glanced at the stunned classmates and disdainfully looked at his twitching opponent on the ground. "You can't win just because you're fat. Wisdom is more terrifying than fists! If you don't understand that, then let's go home."

Aoli scratched his head, glancing at Roca. "What should we do about him? He won't die, will he?"

"He won't die; he's just knocked out temporarily. He'll get up after a while," Mark replied, not stupid enough to think he had killed someone in public. He was a peace-loving person; there was no way he would resort to murder.

As the two turned to leave, Roca's sidekick quickly intercepted them. "Don't go! You dared to hurt Roca, and you'll pay for it! I'll have the police arrest you!" His voice was hoarse, as if Roca on the ground were his own father.

He truly was a pathetic sycophant.

"It's a pity you're not a dog," Mark remarked, too lazy to argue. He placed a hand on the sycophant's shoulder and activated the micro low-voltage electric current from his glove. The lackey twitched and collapsed beside Roca.

"You two enjoy yourselves. If you have any tricks up your sleeves, feel free to use them. I'm ready for whatever!" Mark declared, showing no sympathy for the two. He had once been powerless, but now he possessed abilities; if he didn't slap them down, how could he claim to be a hero?

The girls around watched Mark with newfound admiration. How had they never noticed how handsome he was before? The American folklore of individual heroism was bound to be popular; otherwise, there wouldn't be so many superheroes. Of course, the premise was that the hero was human. Mutants were harder to accept!

The boys didn't dare to stop Mark either; after all, they had just witnessed the two unlucky guys fall to the ground, twitching. They didn't want to become the third casualty. Besides, Roca and his lackey had poor reputations; no one would come forward to uphold any misguided sense of justice.

It took nearly ten minutes for Fatty Roca to regain some strength and struggle to get up, glaring at the direction Mark had taken with a look of hatred in his eyes.

He had lost a lot of face today and was determined to teach Mark a lesson; otherwise, how could Roca continue to hold his head high at No. 2 Middle School?

Once outside the school, Aoli patted his chest, saying, "Dude, don't pull stunts like that next time! I can't take the excitement; my heart might not handle it!"

"Haha! But seriously, you really showed him! Let's see if he dares to be arrogant again! But after dealing with him like this today, I'm afraid things will get complicated. He knows a lot of gang members; you have to be careful!"

"Don't worry; I know what I'm doing. Just focus on your training. Maybe you'll get into the military academy!" Mark replied, appearing relaxed while internally raising his vigilance. It seemed necessary to quicken his pace.

"Honestly, if you can get into the military academy, nine times out of ten, you'll be white. The last one will be black," Aoli said with a hint of frustration, acknowledging the serious racial discrimination in the United States.

On the surface, it seemed peaceful, but discrimination still lingered beneath.

"Haha, don't overthink it. It's still better than before. There will always be opportunities. If you can't make it, start with the soldiers. With Europe fighting so fiercely, we might get involved in the war sooner or later!"

Mark silently patted his friend's shoulder. He was right; in a few years, the United States would enter the war when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.

When he got home, Mark took a shower and then pulled out a suit to stuff into his backpack, along with the components for an AK47. School ended at three, and dinner was at six, giving him three hours to make his plans. Gangsters, beware—Uncle Mark is here!

Aunt Sarah wore a new dress today, an elegant purple outfit that accentuated her plump figure. Her complexion was rosy and vibrant, making her look like a happy little woman.

Seeing the little master dressed in formal clothes and heading out with a backpack surprised her. "Master Mark, are you going out? Will you join us for dinner tonight?" There was a hint of resentment in her tone, almost like that of an abandoned woman.

"Yeah, I have something to do tonight. Aunt Sarah, you don't have to wait for me. Just eat by yourself. It's been busy lately. Oh, and I have something important to tell you when I get back tonight. Here's a thousand dollars; take it for your family later. I have to run. I'll be back tonight!" Mark explained, having thought ahead about keeping money at home.

Upon hearing "family," Aunt Sarah's lips moved as if to refuse, but she hesitated, recalling the events of last night. Her cheeks flushed again. Did this mean he considered her part of the family? She accepted the thousand dollars he offered. "Wait, Master Mark, please be careful and take care of your safety!"

As Mark turned to leave, he felt himself hugged by Aunt Sarah. Her embrace was warm and comforting, her nurturing demeanor fascinating. He could feel her hands tremble slightly, the hug innocent but undeniably intimate. What would Steve say if he found out?