"Come on, you must be joking!" Mark scoffed, a sharp edge of mockery slicing through the air. His eyes narrowed, lips curling into a sneer. "I thoroughly checked this kid's background. He's a complete orphan. You can't be his sister."
Doctor Luna's stance didn't waver. Her white coat fluttered in the wind like a banner of defiance. "I don't care whether you believe it or not," she replied coolly, her voice steady, laced with a quiet strength. "John is my brother. And as a high-ranking Doctor, I'm here for him. You can figure out the rest."
A flicker of comprehension crossed Mark's face, followed quickly by a cruel smile. "Ah, now it makes sense... the Neuro-Core. That's why he could generate one." His gaze shifted to John with predatory curiosity. "You've got talent, boy. I'll give you that—defeating my son and injuring him so badly he's still in the hospital? Impressive."
He took a slow step back, the smirk never leaving his face.
"But that just makes your death today even more necessary," Mark continued, voice dropping into a venomous murmur. "And not just yours. Everyone here with you. This junior section? It's powerless against me. And as for the good Doctors—well, if they don't leave here alive, no one will ever know what happened. Any survivors? I'll deal with them. Quietly."
The words had barely left his lips when his bodyguards sprang into action.
A chorus of metallic clicks echoed across the courtyard as pistols were drawn, their barrels gleaming under the midday sun. Cold, mechanical eyes stared down at Luna, John, Doctor Thomas, and Principal Anthony. A few of the guards even turned their weapons toward the cowering students who had gathered, drawn by the chaos.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Principal Anthony's heart pounded in his chest as his mind raced. This is insanity. Mark Williamson has completely lost it!
Mark positioned himself confidently behind his wall of bodyguards, arms crossed like a man already assured of victory. His eyes, half-lidded and smug, scanned his adversaries with disdain.
Doctor Luna and Doctor Thomas stood firm, though their situation was dire. Neither had the kind of combat beasts required for defense. Their work—lifesaving, tireless, noble—had kept them far from the front lines of Beast Tamer warfare. Their hybrids, bred for medical research and emergency response, were no match for bullets or trained enforcers.
Even Principal Anthony, a seasoned Beast Tamer, knew his beasts wouldn't be enough. As principal of the junior section, he'd long ago accepted a quieter post, far from the high-stakes battles of the senior ranks. His companions—creatures of loyalty and gentleness—lacked the ferocity required now.
John stood frozen, his thoughts a whirlpool of confusion and disbelief. This wasn't just a confrontation anymore. This was an execution.
And they were the targets.
For a moment, time held its breath.