Chapter 120: Gym Class-Dodgeball

Tisha choked on her breath, backing away with a pale, defeated grimace.

Across the room, Kano’s pen snapped in half under the sheer rage of his grip, ink splattering across his halfway-finished essay.

Jane was glaring daggers at my desk, her face swollen with silent fury, while Valentina stared straight ahead, her delicate white-lotus mask thoroughly frozen into a grim, venomous stone.

They were furious. They were humiliated. They were plotting the next round in their heads right this second.

I leaned back in my chair, resting my elbows behind my head, a dark, dangerous smirk curling the edges of my lips.

Good, I thought, watching their silent agony. Keep stewing.

If they thought a clean floor and a few written pages were the extent of my vengeance, they had grossly underestimated who they were dealing with. I was only just getting started.

During afternoon gym class, the class thought they had found their perfect opening.

Under the guise of an ’instinct conditioning drill,’ the coach announced an open-court dodgeball skirmish.

The rules were loose, physical contact through thrown projectiles was encouraged, and there were no recording pens to save anyone. Kano, Jane, Stephanie, and half the class immediately coordinated their glares, deliberately isolating me on the back line.

They intended to swarm me—to pummel the ’weak Omega’ with heavy, reinforced leather balls until I was black, blue, and begging for mercy.

They didn’t expect that I was far swifter, infinitely more precise, and dangerously explosive.

The second the whistle blew, a volley of four heavy balls whistled straight for my head and ribs. I didn’t flinch. Dropping my center of gravity by a fraction of an inch, I slipped beneath the first two with the effortless grace of a ghost, letting the third graze past my hair before my left hand snatched the fourth straight out of mid-air with a loud, resounding thwack.

Before they could even register the catch, my body pivoted, kinetic force coiling from my ankles straight through my core.

Crack!

The ball exploded off my palm like a cannon shell. It slammed dead-center into Kano’s lackey’s chest, the impact lifting him an inch off the floorboards before he crashed backward with a choked gasp.

What followed wasn’t a game; it was an execution drill.

I moved across the court in sharp, erratic angles, closing spatial gaps before their wolf instincts could track my trajectory. Every ball I caught became a lethal projectile.

I targeted nerve clusters, jawlines, solar plexuses, and joints. The drill ended ten minutes early with half the class sprawled across the polished wood, clutching bruised jaws, fractured ribs, and dislocated fingers.

Everywhere my ball had touched, skin had turned a deep, mottled purple.

Stifled groans echoed across the gym as they dragged themselves up, terrified whispers rippling through the ranks.

"What... what kind of strength does she have?"

"Her throws felt like iron weights..."

"You don’t think she’s been hiding her real strength this whole time, right?"

"I knew it was weird when she was put on the roster for fighting... she’s definitely been getting trained."

I casually picked at my ear, leaning against the bleachers with an unimpressed grimace.

"Whose foul mouth is whispering my name?" I muttered aloud, flicking my wrist. "My ear is itchy."

The whispers died instantly, students scattering away from me like frightened pigeons.

When the final bell finally rang, school was officially dismissed. I threw my gym bag over my shoulder, intending to check on my father at the maintenance annex before heading over to the Academy’s private training grounds to meet Zero.

I took the long, quiet corridor connecting the eastern wing to the courtyard. But just as I bent around the corner, my steps froze.

Bradford was down on his hands and knees.

Spread out over the polished tiles was a massive puddle of sticky, dark berry juice, surrounded by crushed paper cups. Three senior-year Alpha students—wearing varsity jackets from the upper athletic division—stood in a loose half-circle over him, looking down with cruel, condescending smirks.

"Hey, hurry up and clean it, old man," one of them sneered, deliberately grinding his heel into a puddle and splattering dark red droplets across Bradford’s faded work trousers. "If you don’t hurry up, you might need to use your mouth to lap it up."

The other two barked with harsh laughter.

"Hey, this useless Omega... like father, like daughter, right?" the second one mocked, crossing his arms. "I can’t believe a slum rat like him actually let his daughter get put on the tournament roster. Fucking attention seekers. They make me sick."

Bradford kept his head bowed, his calloused hands trembling slightly as he wrung out his wet rag into a bucket. "I’m sorry, young masters. I’ll have it spotless in just a moment... please excuse me."

He was swallowing his pride, enduring the humiliation just to protect his job, just to make sure he didn’t cause trouble for me.

The lead Alpha scoffed, his face twisting in disgust. "You disgust me."

He lifted his heavy boot, aiming a vicious, full-force kick straight toward Bradford’s spine.

Before the boot could make contact, the air cracked.

A blur shot forward, kinetic velocity tearing through the corridor. My right foot whipped outward in a brutal, sweeping hook kick, striking the Alpha’s supporting leg right behind the knee joint with sickening force.

CRACK!

"Ugh—what the—?!"

The Alpha let out a pathetic shriek as his leg folded beneath him, his balance completely ripped away as he crashed violently onto his side, skidding across the slick, juice-covered floor.

I landed lightly on the balls of my feet, stepping directly over the spilled puddle and planting myself between my father and the three boys.

The temperature in the corridor plummeted into an absolute, suffocating void. The lingering smell of berry juice faded beneath a wave of pure, concentrated killing intent—the dark, suffocating instinct of an assassin who had just marked her targets for termination.

I looked down at the Alpha groveling in the juice, my eyes narrowing into two icy, pitch-black slits.

"You have a death wish!"