Chapter 9

[System]

The bullet slams into your chest, but instead of piercing through, it bounces off with a dull thud. A slight sting, nothing more.

The girl's smirk falters for the first time.

Slowly, dramatically, you shrug off your jacket.

A stunned silence falls over the classroom.

There it is—your secret weapon.

The SuperDuper Vest, lined with Kevlar, reinforced with military-grade plating. But that's not all.

Grenades. Strapped across your chest like deadly accessories.

An RPG launcher. Hanging from your back like a damn backpack.

AK-47. Ready for action.

M24 sniper rifle. Just in case.

Pump-action shotgun. For close encounters.

And if things go really, really south?

A homemade nuclear suicide bomb.

The class stares in horrified awe. Someone mutters, "What the actual f—"

The girl, still bleeding, lowers the gun. For the first time, she looks… concerned.

"Oh." She exhales, eyes scanning the arsenal strapped to your body. "You came prepared."

A slow grin spreads across your face.

"I always do."

The tension in the room is nuclear-level itself. One wrong move and everything—including this entire damn university—is gone.

She licks her lips, taking a slow step back. For the first time, she looks uncertain.

You have the upper hand.

For now.

What do you do next?

[User]

I lower my upper hand and grab the remote controller of my bomb. Now tell me, who are you or I do it Bin LaDen style.