Bully Lord

Part-66

The bell announcing the start of class jolted James back to reality.  He shuffled into his Math lecture, feeling strangely self-conscious.  As he made his way to his usual seat in the back corner, the usual classroom bustle seemed amplified.  Heads turned, whispers erupted, and a few curious stares followed him like laser pointers.  It was a level of attention James had never experienced before.

He caught a glimpse of Nuri, a quiet girl who always sat a few rows ahead of him, her dark eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and something that resembled… hero worship?  She nudged her friend, a bubbly redhead named Aisha, and a flurry of excited whispers erupted between them.  Their words reached James in a jumble: "...never thought James had it in him!"  "...such a cool fighting style!"  "...maybe he can teach us some self-defense moves!"

Even when he was in the outside of this classroom, the stoic group of upperclassmen from the martial arts club seemed to be giving him a second look, a hint of grudging respect replacing their usual dismissive air.  The leader of the group, a muscular senior named Rubel, leaned in towards his companions, his voice low but audible to James' heightened senses.  "Did you see that jab-and-cut combo he used?  Definitely not something you learn in a schoolyard brawl.  Maybe we should check him out at the club sometime."

James couldn't help but feel a small spark of satisfaction ignite within him.  This was a far cry from the days of being an invisible nobody in the classroom.  The victory against Sourov, the once-unbeatable school bully, had propelled him into the spotlight, albeit a slightly uncomfortable one.

He sank into his seat, trying to focus on the droning lecture about quadratic equations.  But the whispers and curious glances continued to prickle his skin.  He wasn't used to being the center of attention, and honestly, it was a little unnerving.  Part of him craved the anonymity of his old life, the quiet comfort of blending into the background.

Suddenly, a crumpled piece of paper landed on his desk.  James cautiously unfolded it, his heart hammering in his chest.  Was this a threat?  A prank?  He scanned the messy handwriting and let out a surprised snort.

"Nice moves against Sourov, newbie.  Want some pointers? - Alex"

It was a message from Alex, the lanky boy who'd been so impressed by his fighting style.  James felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips.  Maybe this new-found notoriety wouldn't be all bad.  Maybe, just maybe, it could open some doors, forge new friendships, and even lead him to some much-needed training.

With a newfound sense of purpose, James scribbled a quick reply on the back of the note: "Thanks, man!  I'd love to beat you into pulp sometime later."  He folded it neatly and glanced around the class.  The whispers had subsided, replaced by a sense of anticipation.  James straightened in his seat, a hint of a challenge in his eyes.

Of course, the note thrown at him was a letter of threat. It said something like, "I heard you're feeling high and mighty after beating just a Judo member. Come here, and I'll teach you how to fight." That's why James responded accordingly.

He might not have wanted the attention, but he wasn't going to waste it either.  He would use this newfound respect, this flicker of fame, to his advantage.  He would learn everything he could, train as hard as possible, and carve his own path, one unexpected victory, one crumpled note, one math equation at a time.