Chapter 6: Fangs and Fists

The narrow hallway buzzed with the tension of an impending fight. The cracked walls, littered with graffiti and old stains, bore silent witness to countless brawls — just another day at Bloodfang High.

But this one was different.

Dikun Silver, the weakling who no one bothered to remember, now stood face to face with Clint, one of the Iron Fangs. The crowd had already gathered, hungry for violence. Whispers danced through the air.

"Is he really the guy who dropped Jax?"

"No way he beats Clint. The Fangs don't lose."

"Bet he won't last two minutes."

Dikun heard it all. Every sneer. Every doubt. The sting of the rumors lingered. Yet, the fear that gripped him on his first day no longer held him prisoner. He wasn't strong. Not yet. But he wasn't powerless either.

He clenched his fists. His knuckles still throbbed from the fight with Jax, but there was something else — the lingering feeling of that punch connecting. That moment when fear gave way to resolve.

> Skill: Boxing (F-Class) — 30%

"Well?" Clint's voice broke the tension, his grin sharp and predatory. "You just gonna stand there, or are we doing this?"

Dikun's gaze didn't waver. "I'm not looking for trouble."

Clint scoffed. "Too late for that, Silver. You made your choice when you dropped Jax." He cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing through the hall. "And now? You're fair game."

The Iron Fangs behind Clint laughed, their matching black jackets with jagged fang emblems glowing under the dim fluorescent lights. They weren't worried. Clint was their enforcer — a seasoned brawler who thrived in the chaos of Bloodfang High.

"And if I say no?" Dikun's voice was steady, though his heart pounded.

Clint smirked. "Then I'll make sure you can't walk out of here."

The crowd jeered. They wanted a show. Dikun could see it in their eyes. But more than that, they wanted proof. Proof that his victory over Jax was nothing but a fluke.

Dikun sighed. There was no avoiding this. Not if he wanted to survive in this school.

"Fine," he said, shrugging off his bag. "But don't blame me when this ends like last time."

The murmurs grew louder. Clint's grin twisted into a snarl.

"You're gonna regret that."

---

The First Move

Clint didn't hesitate. He lunged forward with frightening speed, closing the distance between them in an instant. His body moved like a predator, every step calculated.

Dikun barely managed to react. He shifted his feet, recalling Kane's lessons from Red Fang Gym. Stay light. Control the distance.

The first punch came fast — a straight jab aimed at Dikun's face. He ducked, feeling the rush of air as Clint's fist missed by mere inches. But Clint was relentless. Before Dikun could reset his stance, a heavy right hook followed.

> System Notification:

Opponent Detected: Experienced Fighter

Skill Progression Boost Activated

The blow grazed Dikun's shoulder, sending a jolt of pain through his arm. He staggered, but didn't fall. The crowd roared with laughter.

"That all you got?" Clint sneered. "Jax must've been even weaker than I thought."

Dikun's jaw tightened. He couldn't let Clint control the pace. The system wouldn't fight for him. Every move, every strike, had to come from him.

"You're faster than Jax," Dikun admitted, his breathing heavy. "But you're not unbeatable."

"Big words from a dead man," Clint growled.

---

Reading the Fight

The next exchange came faster. Clint's fists were like iron, each swing heavier than the last. But they weren't reckless. Unlike Jax, Clint didn't waste movement. Every strike was aimed to break Dikun down.

But Dikun was learning. Watching.

He noticed it — the slight shift in Clint's stance, the tension in his shoulders. A sign. A left hook.

Dikun stepped back, narrowly dodging the blow. Clint's fist slammed into a locker, leaving a dent. The crowd gasped.

> Skill Progression: Boxing (F-Class) — 35%

"You're not bad," Clint admitted, shaking the sting from his hand. "But that won't save you."

Dikun didn't respond. His focus sharpened. His breathing steadied.

---

The Counterattack

Clint rushed forward again. But this time, Dikun didn't just dodge. He saw the opening. The Iron Fang's overconfidence left him exposed.

Dikun's right foot pivoted, his body twisting as he threw a sharp jab. His knuckles connected with Clint's ribs. The impact wasn't devastating, but it was enough to knock Clint off balance.

"Ugh!"

The crowd fell silent. No one expected Dikun to land a clean hit.

> Skill Progression: Boxing (F-Class) — 40%

Clint's eyes flared with rage. "You're gonna pay for that!"

He charged again. But Dikun wasn't the same scared kid from before. He slipped past the first punch, countering with another jab — this time to Clint's jaw. The Iron Fang stumbled, his grin fading.

> Skill Progression: Boxing (F-Class) — 45%

"You talk too much," Dikun muttered.

---

Breaking the Chains

Clint roared in frustration. His attacks grew wilder. Dikun could see it — the loss of composure. The fear of losing.

"Control the fight. Stay calm."

Dikun weaved past another punch. Then, without hesitation, he struck. A left jab to disrupt Clint's balance, followed by a clean right cross. The force echoed through the hall as Clint crashed to the floor.

The crowd erupted.

> System Notification:

Victory Achieved.

Skill Progression: Boxing (F-Class) — 50%

Recognition Gained: Bloodfang High (Moderate)

Dikun's chest heaved as he stood over Clint, his fists trembling. He'd won. Again.

But before he could fully grasp the victory, a low, commanding voice cut through the cheers.

"That's enough."

The crowd parted, and Graves stepped forward — the leader of the Iron Fangs. His dark eyes locked onto Dikun, filled with curiosity and cold amusement.

"You're not as weak as they said," Graves said calmly. "But don't think this means you're untouchable."

Dikun held his gaze. He knew this was only the beginning. Bloodfang High had taken notice. And soon, even greater challenges would come.

But this time, he would be ready.

---

Next Chapter: Dikun's reputation grows, but so does the danger. With Graves keeping a close eye on him, Dikun must decide his next step. Will he continue training? Or will he take the first step toward building his own gang? The path to power has begun.