CHAPTER 16: THE UNFAIR FIGHT

A heavy hand clamped down on John's shoulder.

He spun around, startled—and found himself staring into the cold, hard eyes of Peter. That same dangerous smile twisted across Peter's lips like a snake curling for the strike. Beside him stood Tony, taller and broader, silent but just as menacing.

"Going somewhere?" Peter sneered.

John tensed. "I—what?"

"Did you really think you could just walk out of school like nothing happened?" Peter's voice was low, but full of venom.

John's frown deepened, tired confusion weighing on him. "I don't understand," he said quietly. "What have I ever done to you guys? I'm nobody. I don't even have the strength to hurt you. So why me? Why do you keep bothering me?"

Peter leaned in closer. "You didn't bother us," he said, the threat in his voice like a blade slipping between ribs. "You bothered our boss."

John's eyebrows drew together. "Your boss? Who even is your boss? I don't know anyone like that. We're in different classes, different sections of the school. I've never even spoken to—"

SMACK!

Peter's slap exploded across John's face before he could finish. The impact knocked him back a step, pain blooming in his cheek.

John blinked in shock, rubbing the sting from his skin. "Look," he warned, voice steady despite the tremor beneath it, "you're going too far."

Peter laughed, the sound cruel and delighted. "Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it? Gonna run home and cry to your sister?"

Tony snorted, but Peter wasn't done.

"Here's a better idea—why don't you send your sister over to my house sometime?"

Something snapped inside John.

His breath caught. His fists clenched. That single sentence—those filthy words—ignited a flame of pure, hot fury inside him. Fear vanished, replaced by a rage so blinding it made his vision blur.

Before he could think, he lashed out—his fist flying straight for Peter's smug face.

But Peter was faster. He tilted his head just slightly, and John's punch swiped at air.

"Nice try, little man," Peter mocked. Then, with terrifying force, he drove his foot into John's stomach.

WHAM.

John flew backward, crashing against the brick wall with a sickening thud. Agony exploded through his midsection. He slid down the wall and crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, every inch of his body screaming.

Peter and Tony turned away, laughing like playground bullies who thought they'd won.

But John didn't stay down.

"Wait," he croaked, fighting through the pain. His legs trembled as he pushed himself to his feet, one hand gripping the wall for balance. "Where are you going? The fight's not over, cowards!"

Peter stopped mid-step and turned. There was a strange gleam in his eye—part amusement, part approval. "Still got fight in you, huh?" he said. "Boss was right. You're tougher than you look. But you know what?"

He smirked, and Tony reached into his backpack, pulling out a metal rod. Without a word, he tossed it to Peter.

Peter caught it effortlessly. "We love breaking tough ones."

He walked back toward John, swinging the rod like a bat, eyes locked on his target.

The rod came down fast.

John ducked just in time. The weapon sliced through the air above his head with a sharp whoosh. In the same motion, John surged upward and drove his elbow into Peter's gut.

Peter grunted in pain, staggering back.

"You little—!"

Tony lunged forward.

John saw it coming. He grabbed Tony's wrist, twisted hard, and slammed him into the pavement with practiced instinct.

But there was no time to breathe.

Peter charged again. This time, he came from behind. An arm like steel wrapped around John's neck, choking tight.

John gasped. Clawed at the arm. But it was no use. He couldn't breathe.

Air rasped in his throat. His vision swam. His limbs weakened.

The world tilted.

And all around him—a crowd. Students. Classmates. Teachers. Even Joanna. They were watching. Just watching.

"Help…" he rasped silently, eyes wide with panic.

Joanna met his gaze.

For a second—just a second—she stepped forward.

Then she stopped. Looked around. Saw the silence, the indifference in the eyes around her.

And she stepped back.

That was when John knew.

Nobody was going to help him.

Not Joanna. Not his classmates. Not even Miss Julie, who stood nearby, frozen like a statue. The last flicker of hope inside him flickered… and died.

Anger roared in its place. A firestorm of helplessness and rage. They said those things about my sister… and I can't do anything. I'm weak. I'm nothing.

Peter's grip tightened. John's heart thundered. Breath came in ragged gasps.

His vision turned dark at the edges. Sound became muffled, distant. He was slipping.

And then—just as the world was about to fade completely—

Something stirred.

Deep within him.

Something… powerful.