Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Cordelia urged Larry to head back first, then made her way toward the other side.
After crossing the street, she slipped into an alleyway where the raucous shouts of street vendors seemed to be cut off, creating an oasis of calm amidst the clamor. Nôvel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.
She walked on for about two hundred meters until she heard noises coming from around the corner. Turning the bend, she was met with a group of about seven or eight individuals.
In that instant, Cordelia's vision was flooded with red.
The seven, decked out in various school uniforms, represented different institutions. The girls sported pink hair, while the boys' fiery red locks were slicked up with enough gel to rival a bonfire.
At that moment, they had Merry cornered.
Flame No. 1 shoved Merry, "Who gave you permission to dye your hair back?"
Flame No. 2 chimed in, "Merry, are you trying to bail on us?"
Flame No. 3 added, "Have you forgotten what happens to those who try to leave the fold?"
Merry was trapped in the middle, shivering with fear, her heavily made-up face a canvas of terror. She pleaded with someone on the side, "Yates, please, let me be!"
That was when Cordelia spotted Flame No. 8.
Leaning against the cool grey wall, Yates also sported an exaggerated red mane. Despite his wild hair, his good looks were unmistakable. He was slouched against the wall, eyes half-lidded, engrossed in a game on his phone, an aggressive aura around him.
Flame No. 1 spoke again, “Merry, have you forgotten the oath you took when you joined? We'll give you one chance. Dye your hair back by tomorrow, or face the consequences of betraying the Flame Union!”
Standing bewildered at the entrance of the alley, Cordelia finally began to piece together the situation.
Merry’s fiery hair was apparently the hallmark of the Flame Union, and their ringleader was none other than Yates.
Everyone at school avoided Merry, fearing Yates. Even Hanley wouldn't dare cross him. It seemed this guy was either fearless or came from a powerful family, or possibly both.
Despite her fear, Merry stuttered, "What do I need to do so I don't have to dye it back?"
Flame No. 2 scoffed, "Not dye it? Are you kidding me?"
Flame No. 4 accused, "Who helped you out when you were being bullied and crying for help? And now you're so ungrateful and clueless!"
Flame No. 1 offered a solution, "If you don't want your red hair, fine. We've got a better idea. We'll shave it off for you. How about that?" With that, he brandished a pair of scissors.
Merry crouched down, clutching her hair, "No, please..." But her arms were grabbed, leaving her powerless to resist.
"Merry, you’ve brought this on yourself!"
Flame No. 1 lifted a strand of her hair, ready to cut without mercy!
That's when...
"Stop." A voice, cool and indifferent, rang out, freezing everyone in their tracks. They turned to look at the mouth of the alley.
Cordelia stood there, her misty eyes scanning the group before settling on Merry.
Merry, seeing Cordelia, was momentarily stunned, then urgently cried out, "Cordelia, don't worry about me, just go!"
Cordelia walked straight toward Merry. She appeared fragile and demure, yet as she approached, the Flame members instinctively cleared a path.
Once she was in front of Merry, she faced Flame No. 1.
After a few seconds of silence, during which Flame No. 1 began to question his life choices, Cordelia finally spoke, "What does it take to leave her alone?"
Flame No. 1 blurted out at once, "There's only one way. Beat Yates, and you become the boss of the Flame Union. Then you make the rules!"
Cordelia processed this for a moment, her expression revealing her surprise. A fight?
Seeing her reaction, the others felt a return to normalcy.
Flame No. 1 regained his swagger, "Scared, huh? Mind your business and beat it, don't waste our time!"
Merry pushed at her too, "We don't know each other, just go!"
Cordelia handed her backpack to Merry and then turned to face Yates, saying simply, "Let's fight."
Yates didn't respond immediately. Only after finishing his game did he show signs of impatience, tossing his phone aside and limbering up, his joints cracking, "Make it quick."
But upon seeing Cordelia, his expression faltered.
Wasn't this the girl who had grabbed him on the street the other day, confessing her feelings?
She looked so gentle and frail, clearly not from their world... How could he fight her?
Cordelia didn't recognize him. They stood facing each other in silence.
Yates finally said, "Well, come at me then!"
Cordelia paused before asking, "Could you give me half an hour?"
Yates was perplexed, "Why?"
With an impassive face, but inwardly feeling somewhat embarrassed, Cordelia replied, "I don't know how to fight. I need to learn first."
There was a moment of stunned silence before Yates, almost reflexively, nodded in agreement.
Ignoring the bewildered expressions of the others, Cordelia made her way to the Midnight Scent.
Inside, Everard was still behind the counter reading a book, his deep eyes flickering with surprise as she entered, "What's up?" he asked.
Cordelia regarded him. His features were sharp, and he exuded a rogue charm. He might look lean and pale, but he knew a thing or two about throwing a punch.
She began tentatively, "Could you teach me how to fight?"
Calvert, who was fiddling with his phone on a stool, looked up blankly at Cordelia.
As Cordelia searched for the right words to explain, Everard, shrouded in shadows, didn't bother with questions. He casually stretched out his leg, nudging Calvert, "Teach her some basic combat moves."
"Got it."
Calvert responded instinctively, only realizing once he'd stood up that she might not be able to learn everything in such a short time.
But following orders was second nature, and he began to instruct, “Boxercise is a mix of kicks, punches, takedowns, and grappling fundamentals. The moves break down like this...”
He demonstrated in the open space of Midnight Scent, then faced her and said, “Get into your fighting stance.”
Cordelia nodded.
Her photographic memory had already captured the essentials. She raised her fists, stepped back with her right foot, and slightly bent her knees, ready to strike.
Suddenly, a warm and large hand rested on her waist. As Cordelia tensed up, Everard’s deep and resonant voice came close to her, “Tighten your core.”
It was only then that Cordelia realized Everard had moved next to her, his touch brief and leaving her with little time to ponder.
She relaxed and focused intently on the lesson.
Everard stepped back, his gaze dropping to his own palm. He hadn't expected that beneath the baggy school hoodie, her waist would feel so supple and slender, almost as if he could encircle it with just one hand...