[Chapter 8 - The Prince And The Dragon]

Dorian's goons had moved, flanking Kowa on both sides. One lunged from the left—BAM! A powerful kick came straight at Kowa's ribs.

Kowa moved like water, smoothly sidestepping and catching the guy's leg mid-air.

KAPOW! The second goon struck from the right, fist rocketing toward Kowa's jaw.

Without hesitation, Kowa shifted, spinning the first goon directly into the second's incoming punch. A sickening crack echoed through the hallway as fist met face.

The first goon stumbled, dazed from his own teammate's attack. Kowa didn't let him recover. He drove his elbow hard into the guy's gut—OOF!—then grabbed him by the collar and hurled him straight into the lockers.

The impact was brutal. The metal dented as the guy crumpled to the ground, unmoving. Students standing nearby scattered, clearing a path as cheers erupted from the crowd.

The second goon wasn't done. He roared, throwing a flurry of punches at Kowa, one after the other.

Kowa dodged with ease, slipping past each strike like he was dancing. Then, in perfect rhythm, he returned the hits—one, two, three—each punch landing with sharp, precise force. A gut punch, a jab to the face, a push to knock him off balance. And just as the guy staggered back—

CRACK!

Kowa's foot slammed into his jaw with a brutal kick, launching him backward. The force sent him flying—right on top of the first goon, both of them sprawled out in a heap of defeat.

The crowd erupted in cheers, their energy feeding into Kowa like fuel to a flame. He grinned, stretching his arms wide as if to bask in their admiration. A few students chanted his name, others clapped, and some were still recovering from the absolute spectacle he had just put on.

He waved at the crowd, Like a popular star surrounded by his fanclub. He let out a satisfied sigh, finally turning his attention to Dorian. The big guy was still standing next to Gisele, towering over her like some overgrown guard dog. And judging by the murderous glare on his face, he was ready to bite.

Gisele, however, wasn't impressed. Not one bit.

"Are you serious, Dorian?! I thought you said you were a big member of lardo's gang. This is all the manpower you got?!" she snapped, fury spilling out of her like boiling water. "I dated you, trusted you to keep me safe because you're big and strong! You don't get to lose to this—this smelly mutt!" She gestured sharply at Kowa, her nails digging into her palm. "Now do something and save me already!"

Kowa heard that! he mused, plotting. Maybe something mischievous? then tilted his head at Dorian, completely disregarding him as an actual threat. "I mean, I just got rid of your little lapdogs, and I barely even noticed they were here."

He dusted off his hands again, as if brushing off the effort it took to handle them. His eyes then slid back to Gisele, and his smirk curled into something far more devilish.

With dramatic flair, he placed a hand over his heart and winked.

"But if it's power you want in your man, Giselle, then wait for me just a little longer, okay?" He stepped forward like a prince about to face the dragon, his voice dripping with playful theatrics. "I'll slay this monster for you and then, my dear, I shall come for your hand."

The crowd erupted into laughter at his ridiculous performance, but Gisele? She was fuming. 

Dorian's eyes twitched, his body tensing at Kowa's words. The moment the challenge left Kowa's lips, he charged.

A punch came first, faster than before, aimed directly at Kowa's face—but it missed by an inch, crashing into the window instead. The glass shattered, spraying shards across the floor.

But Dorian wasn't done. He pressed forward, barely giving Kowa space to breathe. Another punch flew toward him, forcing Kowa to duck, but the moment he lowered himself, Dorian's leg shot up. A powerful kick ripped through the air. Kowa barely managed to roll away, dodging by a hair's breadth.

He had no time to recover. The instant he stopped rolling, Dorian loomed above him, lifting his foot high before stomping down, aiming to crush Kowa's face into the ground.

Kowa rolled again. And again. And again. Each dodge was a near miss, Dorian's kicks pounding the floor like a man furiously trying to squash an insect. The crowd gasped, watching the relentless pursuit unfold as they moved down the hallway, students hurriedly clearing a path.

Yet no matter how hard Dorian stomped, Kowa was always a second ahead—just out of reach.

Gisele scoffed, flipping her hair as she watched the chase unfold. "I may have looked up to you once, back when we were kids and you were in Lardo's gang. People actually respected and feared you then." She crossed her arms, annoyed. "But now? Look at you. You betrayed him."

Disappointment filled her voice. 

You could have stronger. You could have ruled this school but you're disrespecting yourself by living in that brothel, finding clients for them. What does that make you? Their pimp? A gigolo?"

Her friend forced a smug grin, trying to sound confident despite the slight tremble in her voice.

"Even if you are a gigolo, no woman would actually pay to sleep with you. Hell, Giselle wouldn't do it even if you were the one paying her!"

The words hung in the air for a second. Then she hesitated, her bravado slipping as she glanced nervously at Giselle, as if realizing she might have spoken out of turn.

But to her relief, Giselle smirked in agreement

They both laughed, their voices sharp and mocking. 

Kowa had no time to react to Giselle, he had to move or dorian would crush him under his feet

He rolled straight into the crowd—right under a girl. His eyes widened. His face turned red. Above him, the girl shrieked, her hands flying to her skirt as she staggered back, just as flustered as he was.

Students quickly helped Kowa up, and suddenly, cheers erupted around him.

"Don't let him get away, Kowa!" one girl shouted, voice filled with anger. "We're sick of Dorian and his goons—he harassed my friends the other day!"

Another girl chimed in, voice dripping with venom. "No one's going to care if that pig drops dead. We're all cheering for you!"

Dorian, unbothered by the crowd's shift, lunged forward again, fists clenched.

He charged, his powerful leg swinging forward like a wrecking ball aimed straight at Kowa's head.

Kowa was still sitting, surrounded by cheering girls, completely relaxed—until the crowd saw Dorian's speed. Gasps rang out. Terror spread like wildfire. The students scrambled, backing away in a panic.

But Kowa? He didn't flinch.

Just before the kick could land, he smoothly dropped back and slid across the floor, his foot hooking around Dorian's ankle.

Dorian's balance snapped. His towering frame lurched forward, unable to stop his own momentum.

BANG!

His head slammed into the lockers with a sickening thud. The entire hallway shook from the impact.

Silence.

Then, the crowd erupted into laughter and cheers.

Giselle's lips pressed into a thin line, her fingers curled into trembling fists. Dorian had failed. No, failed was too kind a word—he had humiliated himself.

And now, Kowa stood before him, smug as ever, one hand lazily scratching his head. His other hand gripped Dorian by the skull, dragging him away from the lockers like an unruly dog. With a casual push, he sent the larger boy staggering backward into the empty space between the lockers. Dorian barely managed to stay on his feet, wobbling like a newborn deer, rage flashing in his eyes.

Kowa sighed dramatically. "I'm bored now," he groaned, shaking his head in exaggerated disappointment. "You wasted so much of my time—time I had planned to spend with my beautiful Giselle."

Then he moved.

Dorian's breath caught. There was no warning, no shift, no moment to react—one second, Kowa was standing there, bored and scratching his head. The next, he was in front of him, already mid-air.

The kick landed clean in his gut.

The impact sent Dorian flying. He felt the wind explode from his lungs, his ribs scream in protest, and for a split second, he swore he heard a sonic boom behind Kowa. His body hit the floor, bouncing once before rolling to a painful stop.

The crowd roared.

Dorian groaned, barely managing to get his knees under him. His nose was bleeding. His hands trembled. But his pride wouldn't let him stop.

With a yell, he charged. His fists swung wildly, his kicks sloppily aimed.

Kowa dodged with ease.

He moved with an effortless, almost lazy grace, weaving around Dorian's attacks while still talking, his tone drenched in condescension. "You were born with a big body," he mused, ducking under a slow, heavy punch. "But the way you use it? A complete waste of time."

Dorian barely registered the words before—

CRACK!

Kowa's foot slammed into the same spot in his ribs. He screamed, dropping to one knee. The pain was unbearable.

"Your moves are unpolished," Kowa continued, tilting his head as if observing an untrained puppy. "I could predict your punches while flirting with these beautiful ladies."

Dorian gritted his teeth and threw another punch, fueled by desperation.

Kowa caught it effortlessly. With a slight twist of his wrist, he redirected the entire motion, sending Dorian stumbling.

"You're slow. Untrained," Kowa tsked, shaking his head.

Then came the elbow.

It crashed into the same battered spot in Dorian's ribs, driving him to the floor. He coughed violently, pain wracking his entire body. No longer able to move. 

"P-please stop..." His voice cracked. "I can't—I can't stand up. You win. You proved your point."

Kowa leaned back, tapping his foot thoughtfully on the ground. Then, with theatrical slowness, he extended his leg in front of Dorian's face.

"Oh?" His smirk widened. "Does this mean I've slain the dragon and qualified to take my princess home?"

Dorian's fear overtook his pride. "Yes! Yes! You've proven you're better than me!" he gasped. "I don't even care about that bitch—I just wanted to have fun with her!"

The moment the words left his mouth, Kowa's expression darkened.

"But that dumb woman wanted me to save her," Dorian scoffed, chuckling weakly through the pain. "Stupid girl. I don't give a damn about her."

He never saw the kick coming.

Kowa's boot crashed into his head, slamming it into the ground. His body went limp, mouth foaming, completely unconscious.

The crowd went wild.

They weren't just cheering—they were roaring. It was as if their favorite rockstar had just stepped onto the stage. They chanted Kowa's name, screamed praises, laughed at Dorian's crumpled form.

Giselle, however, was frozen.

Dorian's loss played over and over in her mind, burning itself into her memory like a cruel, mocking nightmare. She had believed in him. She had trusted him to protect her. And now, he was nothing but a broken mess at Kowa's feet.

She collapsed onto her knees.

Kowa, still basking in the attention, lazily swung his clothes over his shoulder. He turned, locking eyes with Giselle, and began striding toward her, each step dripping with arrogance. If overconfidence had a physical form, it would have been Kowa's face in that moment. If he were Pinocchio, his nose would've been long enough to stab the moon.

Then—before he could even say a word—she fell forward onto all fours.

"PLEASE FORGIVE ME!"

Her voice cracked with desperation.

"I was wrong about you! I was wrong!" She looked up at him, her eyes wide and shimmering. 

"Please take me back to your castle my prince. I want to go out with you!"

Her friend gasped beside her, but Giselle didn't care. Her face was red, her voice breathless, but her heart was clear—she had finally, truly fallen for him.

Kowa blinked.

Then, his expression twisted in disgust.

"No."

Silence.

Her breath hitched. "B-but… you liked me, didn't you?*" she stammered. "It actually made me happy when you said it before."

"I take back all the things I said about you! I was wrong so hurry up and take me!"

Kowa scoffed, turning away. "No. Never give a damn about a girl who can be bought with a simple shampoo or sold through a simple challenge."*

Giselle's face crumbled.

"Is it so easy for you to switch between men, huh?" Kowa continued, voice cold. "Then don't talk bad about my madam. Don't talk bad about those girls."*

His eyes darkened. "They stay strong. They refuse to give up—even when the whole town abandoned them, they still gave me a home. They have hope and they do whatever they must to survive, even if it means using their bodies."*

He met her gaze, expression unreadable. "They are better than you."*

Kowa's voice dropped, low and simmering with controlled rage. "More importantly," he spoke, his tone sharp enough to cut, "I did this to teach you and your pet a lesson."

His eyes bore into Giselle, his gaze carried disgust.

"How dare you bully and harass Randa?"

The shift in his tone made Giselle flinch. There was no sarcasm, no teasing. Just pure, unfiltered anger. For the first time, she was terrified of him.

But as his words turned to Randa, something changed. His expression softened, a rare flicker of warmth replacing his fury. His lips curled into the smallest smile, admiration clear in his voice.

"That girl… she's an angel." He exhaled, almost as if the thought of her alone steadied him. "Too sweet and kind—even to a man like me."

His gaze sharpened again, snapping back to Giselle like a whip. "I will never allow her to be hurt or scared again."

He stepped forward, his presence suffocating, towering over her like a storm ready to break.

"And if you refuse to listen—if you so much as make her flinch in fear—" he glanced at her boyfriend's unconscious body, sprawled out, barely recognizable. Then, his voice turned ice-cold.

"—I'll make sure you're an even bigger mess than he is."

Then, as if none of this had just happened, he shrugged on his shirt and walked away.

That's when the other door slammed open.

"KOWA!!"

Randa, Longs, Isaac, and the rest of their gang burst in, their expressions ranging from worry to sheer exasperation.

Kowa barely glanced at them, still fixing his clothes. "You guys are late," he sighed, voice smooth as ever. "You lost massive points for missing my aweso—"

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

Randa's voice cracked mid-shout, but she did not back down.

Kowa immediately took a step back, nervously smiling. "Oh, uh—"

"I've told you so many times not to pick fights!"* she scolded, hands on her hips. "Look at Longs!"*

Longs—arms crossed, biceps flexed, grinning—clearly enjoyed the chaos.

"He's strong too," Randa pointed out. "Do you see him running around beating people up?!"

Randa groaned looking at her friends. "Can you believe this guy? What am I supposed to do with him?!"

The rest of the group just nervously shrugged.

Kowa chuckled, still smug.

"Admire me more..? I mean I did this all for yo-"

Kowa and Randa barely spoke, the tension between them drowned out by the panicked screams of students behind them.

Then, a stern voice sliced through the noise.

"So, it's you again?"

To Be Continued.