Chapter 97

Chapter 97:

At that moment, time seemed to stand still. Pedestrians halted, their gazes locked on the young man gripping the microphone, his wild expression drawing startled stares.

Did he really just call himself a loser in front of everyone?

Kevin ignored the bewildered looks piercing him from all sides. He let out a deep breath, the weight of the moment lifting as exhilaration coursed through him.

“It… it wasn’t as terrifying as I imagined!”

He felt as though he’d conquered a mountain. A triumphant grin spread across his face as he turned to Fernanda, his chin tilted upward in defiance. “See? I told you I’d do it!”

Fernanda’s expression softened with genuine approval. But Erika’s unease only grew. The eyes of strangers burned into her, making her feel like a spectacle at a carnival sideshow. She shuffled backward, desperate to disappear, pretending she had no connection to the scene unfolding.

Her silent hope that no familiar face would stumble upon this debacle shattered almost instantly when she heard her name. Reluctantly, she turned, spotting a cluster of her schoolmates approaching. She wished, more than anything, for the ground to open and swallow her whole.

“Erika, so this is your brother, huh? That’s crazy!” a girl in a denim dress chuckled. “We heard the commotion and thought we’d check it out. Turns out it’s your family causing the scene. Ah, youth! So bold and ridiculous!”

“Right… young and reckless, saying whatever they want. I couldn’t even…”

“Imagine saying those words myself! That’s too humiliating.” The group erupted into laughter. One boy stepped closer, his voice dripping with disdain as he looked Kevin over. “You call yourself a loser? Go on, then. Tell us—what makes you such a loser?”

“Yeah, enlighten us!” another chimed in. “We could all use a good story!”

Kevin recognized one of the boys, though he couldn’t recall his name. They’d crossed paths at a birthday party once—just another face in their social circle. That familiarity seemed to embolden the group, their insults flowing without restraint.

Then one of the boys glanced at Fernanda. “Hey, isn’t that the eldest daughter of the Morgan family? Didn’t they drag you out of the countryside recently? What’s with the leg? Wow, your family really is a circus. One’s crippled, and another is a self-proclaimed loser. You lot are comedy gold!” The group’s laughter swelled.

Kevin’s fury ignited instantly. Without a word, he lunged forward and threw a punch squarely into the boy’s face, sending a ripple of shock through the group. Chaos erupted. Kevin threw himself into the fray, fists flying as the others scrambled to respond.

The girls shrieked, pleading frantically with the boys to stop fighting. Kevin tackled the loudest boy, pinning him to the ground and raining blows in quick succession.

But the boy was older, taller, and stronger. After absorbing the initial punches, he flipped Kevin over with a growl, his retaliation swift and unrelenting.

Ector attempted to intervene, but the boy’s friends blocked his path. They knew their friend would teach Kevin a severe lesson. Kevin had started the fight; they weren’t about to let anyone stop their friend from finishing it.

Within moments, Kevin was overwhelmed. His strength faltered, and he could hardly defend himself against the onslaught.

Erika, watching helplessly, felt panic surge through her. She tried to push forward, her protests urgent, but the other girls held her back. “Relax, Erika,” one said dismissively. “Boys will be boys. Let them sort it out. Why are you so worked up?”

Erika stared at them in disbelief. To them, this was just entertainment. But for her, this was Kevin—her brother. Her throat tightened as she struggled against their grip, tears brimming as she watched Kevin endure blow after blow, powerless to intervene.

She spotted Fernanda standing off to the side, arms crossed as she silently observed the commotion. Fury surged through Erika as she shouted, “Fernanda! Aren’t you supposed to be good at fighting? Kevin’s getting beaten! Are you seriously just going to stand there and do nothing?”

Fernanda turned toward her, expression cold, eyes silently asking, “Why should I care if he’s getting hurt?”

“Help him!” Erika’s voice cracked as her panic grew. “If anything happens to Kevin, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life!”

Fernanda didn’t flinch. Erika’s frantic cries sounded like meaningless nonsense to her. Still, she refused to stand idle—not for Kevin’s sake alone, but because of the boy’s earlier insult.

Crippled? Fine. She would show him exactly what a so-called cripple could do.

The boy’s fists slowed as exhaustion caught up with him. He paused, breathless, and spat on the ground. “You brat! Think you can take me? Fighting me was your first mistake. You—”

His words ended in a guttural groan as a sharp blow to his back sent him stumbling forward, pain shooting up his spine like electric fire.

“Argh!” he cried, twisting to see Fernanda standing over him, her crutch still raised.

“You—” he began, only to be silenced by another strike across his shoulder.

He scrambled to his feet, but Fernanda was faster. Her crutch cracked against his leg, and with a howl he collapsed back to the ground. He flailed wildly, crawling and rolling to escape her blows, but no matter how he moved, each strike landed hard.

Writhing on the pavement, he whimpered in pain. By the time Fernanda lowered her crutch, he lay in a pathetic heap, tears and blood mixing on his cheek.

Fernanda stepped closer, crutch gripped firmly in her hand. She tilted her head, letting the tip hover inches from his nose.

“Since when was it your business how we handle our family?” Her voice was low and icy. “Mind your own affairs. I guess today is the day you learn that lesson.”

The boy opened his mouth to protest but could muster only a faint groan. He stared at her in disbelief, unable to comprehend how someone so slight could summon such strength and turn the tide so swiftly.

“You could have laughed behind closed doors,” Fernanda continued, “but instead you mocked us to our faces. You were asking for trouble, you know.”

Her eyes swept over the cluster of onlookers, each of them shrinking beneath her glare despite the summer heat. How could someone so young command such an overwhelming presence?

“You brought this on yourself, so you got exactly what you deserved.” Fernanda lifted her hand, spinning the crutch effortlessly before slamming it down on the ground. “You have three seconds to vanish from my sight, or I’ll make sure you’re carried out.”

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