Reign Of Loner

After having a peaceful morning, I am feeling a strange sense of calm. The whirlwind of the past few days—the fight, the deal with Stacy, my aunt's arrival—had settled into a low hum in the back of my mind. Looking at my status screen before leaving for school had become a new morning ritual, a way to ground myself. Seeing the new skills, [Experienced Strategist] and [Self-healing], made me feel a quiet confidence I'd never known before. It was like having a secret weapon nobody else could see.

I walked through the school gates and headed straight for the canteen. The morning rush hadn't started yet, so it was relatively quiet. I grabbed a can of energy drink from the cooler and was about to pay when I spotted a familiar figure slumped over a table in the corner.

It was Jack. I walked over and slid into the chair opposite him.

"Is your body fine, buddy?" I asked, popping the tab on my drink.

He looked up, dark circles under his eyes, but he managed a weak grin. "Not a hundred percent," he admitted, wincing as he shifted in his seat. "My ribs still feel like they went ten rounds with a sledgehammer. But it's okay. What about you, bro? You look… fine. Annoyingly fine."

"I'm totally fine," I said with a shrug.

"Yeah, because you're a freak who's started exercising," he grumbled, though there was no real heat in his words. He took a sip of his own drink. "We have that history class with Miss. Lily Harrison today. Remember?"

"Obviously, bro," I said, leaning back in my chair. We fell into a comfortable silence, just two guys recovering from a battle. It was a new kind of bond for us, forged in bruises and a shared victory.

Our quiet moment was shattered by a voice booming across the canteen.

"Adam sir! A very good morning to you!"

I groaned internally. Just hearing that voice made my teeth ache. Ken, my self-appointed number one fan, was practically sprinting towards our table, a manic grin plastered on his face. Jack braced himself, looking like he was preparing for a natural disaster.

"I have something to show you!" Ken panted as he skidded to a halt beside our table, his eyes shining with a sycophantic fervor that was genuinely unsettling.

I took a slow sip of my drink, leveling a flat stare at him. "What do you want to show us, Ken? Didn't I give you a task?"

"I completed it, sir!" he announced proudly, puffing out his chest. "That's why I'm here! I want you to meet our group members."

Jack and I exchanged a look of pure astonishment. Jack was the first to speak, his voice a disbelieving shout. "How in the world did you do that already?"

"Follow me, sirs! The humble servants await their master!" Ken declared with a dramatic flourish.

Curiosity overriding my irritation, I stood up. Jack followed suit, and we trailed Ken out of the canteen. He didn't lead us towards any of the usual club rooms or common areas. Instead, he took us to the far side of the campus, towards the old, abandoned school building. It was a relic from decades ago, a two-story brick structure that was slated for demolition but never quite got there. It was creepy, with boarded-up windows and an aura of decay.

"You could have found a better place than this," I commented, kicking at a loose stone on the cracked pathway.

"Sir, every other place is already acquired by other groups," Ken explained, his tone apologetic. "This is the only place we can hold our meetings without being disturbed."

I had to admit, it was practical. No one would bother us here. We stopped in front of a classroom on the ground floor. The door was old and weathered, the paint peeling off in strips.

Ken turned to me, his expression one of solemn reverence. "Adam sir, please, open the door. Give your humble servants a glance of your prestige."

His words were so over-the-top they almost made me want to puke. I took a deep breath, trying to steel myself. Beside me, Jack clapped a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "Everything will be fine."

His simple gesture helped. I was nervous, my heart thumping against my ribs. This was it. This was the first real step towards building something, towards fighting back. This was a big step towards my future.

I reached out, my hand closing around the cold, rusty doorknob. I turned it and pushed the door open.

The sight that greeted me made my breath catch in my throat.

The classroom wasn't empty. It was filled with people. At least thirty students, boys and girls, were packed into the dusty room. They were standing among the old, overturned desks, their faces a mixture of hope, fear, and anticipation. I was astonished. How did Ken manage to gather this many people so quickly?

The moment I stepped across the threshold, a ripple went through the crowd. As one, they all stood up straighter, their eyes locking onto me. Then, in a chorus that was both cheesy and incredibly powerful, they all bowed slightly and said, "Boss Adam, we give you our greetings."

Boss Adam?

The nervousness I felt was instantly replaced by something else. A surge of power, of responsibility. The passive skill, [Great Leader], must have kicked in, because a sudden clarity washed over me. I knew exactly what I had to do.

I walked to the front of the room, Jack flanking me like a loyal guard. I stood before them, my posture straight, my gaze sweeping across their faces.

"First of all," I said, my voice deep and confident, resonating in the silent room. "You will not call me 'Boss.' You will call me 'Leader.'"

I let that sink in for a moment.

"I think most of you know who I am, but for those who don't, I will introduce myself. I am Adam Wilson. And we," I said, gesturing to the room, "we are going to make a change. I want to thank all of you for coming today, for attending the inauguration ceremony of our group."

A hand shot up in the crowd. A lanky kid with glasses. "But, Leader," he asked, his voice trembling slightly, "what is our group called?"

It was a good question. A question I hadn't even thought to ask myself. I had no idea. But I couldn't show that. My new [Experienced Strategist] skill seemed to whisper in my mind, telling me to use what I knew.

I pointed to the kid. "What does the current bully council call themselves?"

A wave of murmurs went through the crowd before several people shouted the answer. "The Ruthless Animals!"

I nodded slowly, a cold smile spreading across my face. "Exactly. 'Animals.' Everyone here knows about the food chain, right? What's at the very top?"

They looked at each other, confused.

"Humans," I said, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "If they are animals, then we are the hunters. From this day forward, our guild will be known as The Hunter's Guild."

The name echoed in the room, and I could see a spark of understanding in their eyes.

"But I want to make one thing perfectly clear," I continued, my voice rising with intensity. "We are not the good guys. We are not apostles of justice or knights in shining armor. We are hunters. And what do hunters do? They live off the dead. Hunters kill. Hunters sell. Hunters torture. Our opponents call themselves animals? Then they will be hunted to the ends of the earth. We will humiliate them. We will make them understand the agony of despair. We will answer their violence with overwhelming, continuous violence and torture of our own."

I paused, letting my words hang in the air, thick and heavy.

"If they think they are a nightmare for the students of this school, then our task is to become their nightmare. They should be scared just hearing our name. We are not here for some great, noble purpose. We are here for one reason and one reason only: to make those who have inflicted pain on us feel that same pain, a hundred times over. That is the motto of The Hunter's Guild. Am I clear?"

The silence that followed my speech was deafening. It stretched for a full ten seconds. Then, one person started to clap. Then another. And another. Within moments, the entire room erupted. They weren't just clapping; they were shouting, roaring, their faces transformed with a fiery, vengeful energy.

"Leader, you're the best!"

"We'll do whatever you say! This is our deepest desire!"

"We are The Hunter's Guild! We'll make them feel every ounce of pain they gave us!"

"Leader, you are our god! We were in doubt, but now we're sure! The time of the bully council is up!"

The raw emotion in the room was a physical force. It was exhilarating. Ken, seeing his moment, jumped onto a dusty old desk and raised his arms.

"Everyone, in sync!" he bellowed. "Praise the Lord! Praise the Leader!"

The crowd took up the chant immediately, their voices shaking the very foundations of the old building. "PRAISE THE LORD! PRAISE THE LEADER! PRAISE THE LORD! PRAISE THE LEADER!"

Standing there, bathed in their adoration, their hope, their rage… I finally understood. This is how a king felt. This is what it meant to lead.

I raised a hand, and the chanting slowly died down.

"I welcome everyone, anyone, wholeheartedly," I said, my voice calm but firm. "There are no criteria to join The Hunter's Guild, except for one. You have to be willing to give up a little piece of your morality. Are you willing to accept the monster inside you? Are you willing to embrace the darkness? Are you willing to become ruthless?"

A chorus of "YES!" answered me.

"We will not target neutral people," I clarified. "We won't go after the mobs. Our only targets are the ones who inflicted pain on us. It's time to return the favor."

The excitement in the room was palpable. I noticed for the first time that there were a lot of girls in the crowd, their expressions just as fierce and determined as the boys'. The "Ruthless Animals" had clearly made enemies of everyone.

"I also want to announce our first goal," I said, my voice ringing with authority. "For the first three months, our sole objective is this: we are going to uproot the entire 'Ruthless Animals' guild. We will dismantle them, piece by piece, until nothing is left. Am I clear?"

"YES, SIR!" they roared, their voices united.

"Good," I said with a final nod. "This meeting is over."

As the newly minted members of The Hunter's Guild began to file out of the room, buzzing with excitement and purpose, I stood there, watching them go. Before they all left, I decided to try out my new skill.

Appraisal.

I focused on the crowd, and information began to flow into my mind—names, basic stats, a brief summary of their character. It was a flood of data. Most of them were just regular students, pushed too far. But as I scanned the last few people leaving, my eyes locked onto one person in particular. The system gave me more than just a name and stats. It gave me a warning. And a title.

In this crowd of thirty vengeful students, one of them stood out. One of them had caught my interest. And my suspicion.