Bully Lord

Part-13

James' heart hammered in his chest, a counterpoint to the nervous tremor in his hand. He didn't step forward out of some noble desire to be a hero; the memory of the beating in the alleyway was still fresh, and getting tangled in another fight was the last thing he wanted. However, the tension was thick, and James knew an intervention, however small, might be enough to defuse the situation. Using the "Thunderclap Slap" outside of self-defense felt wrong, but maybe this is the situation he can use it as the context of self-defense.

"Leave her alone," James repeated, his voice firm despite the internal turmoil. 

Ryan, caught off guard by this unexpected turn of events, turned his attention to James. A sneer played across his lips. "Who are you, her knight in shining armor?" he scoffed. "Seems like someone's got a crush they're too shy to confess."

James gritted his teeth. The last thing he needed was to be dragged into a fight over a misunderstanding.  "We're in the same class," he clarified, trying to keep his voice level.  "And you're causing a scene. Just give up now."

Ryan's face flushed with anger. Maybe it was the way James spoke, a quiet confidence that belied his slight frame, or perhaps it was the sheer audacity of a foreign classmate challenging him. Whatever the reason, Ryan bristled. "Give up? This doesn't concern you, pipsqueak. Go back to playing with your Legos."

The insult stung. James clenched his fists, the memory of the stress ball fueling a surge of defiance.  But was this the right time to use it? A part of him wanted to unleash the "Thunderclap Slown" right there, to wipe that smug smirk off Ryan's face, well he wants to test it badly that's why he step up unconsciously. But another, more cautious voice held him back. Using the skill in the hallway, in front of everyone, could lead to unwanted attention and questions.

"Legos?" James echoed, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "Maybe you should stick to building your reputation on something other than harassing girls in the hallway."

Ryan's eyes narrowed. "What'd you say, shrimp?" he growled, taking a menacing step forward.

James stood his ground, his gaze unwavering. "I said, back off. You're making a fool of yourself."

A tense silence descended upon the hallway. The crowd, initially amused by the spectacle, now watched with a mixture of curiosity and unease. Mili, who had been speechless throughout the exchange, finally found her voice.

"That's enough, both of you," she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "Ryan, I already told you no. Please, just leave me alone."

The air crackled with unspoken threats.  James and Ryan stood locked in a silent battle,  eyes narrowed, muscles tensed.  Mili's plea hung in the air, momentarily forgotten.  The crowd held its breath, a collective gasp threatening to erupt at any moment.

James, his hand instinctively clenching into a fist, felt the phantom ache of his overworked muscles.  The memory of the stress ball and his incomplete "Thunderclap Slap" skill flickered in mind.  Was he ready to use it?  The consequences of unleashing an unknown power in the crowded hallway were a daunting prospect.

Ryan, emboldened by James' lack of immediate aggression, puffed out his chest.  "You gonna do something about it, pipsqueak?" he taunted, a cruel glint in his eyes.  James gritted his teeth, a surge of anger battling with a newfound caution.  He couldn't back down, not after challenging Ryan.  Yet, the prospect of a fight, especially one where the rules were unclear, sent a shiver down his spine.

In a scene straight out of a dramatic Western movie, James and Ryan locked eyes, their gazes locked in a silent, intense duel. The tension in the hallway was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.