Chapter 25: A Mysterious Figure
There was a low, almost imperceptible sound of footsteps as the figure closed the distance between himself and the now unconscious and fallen Trux.
The figure, unmistakably Athar, wore an expression of almost savage delight, a twisted grin stretching across his face.
In the dim light, Athar's eyes gleamed coldly, a dark glint flickering in their depths as he remained fixed on the sprawled, helpless body before him.
His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. The last swing had demanded every ounce of his strength.
Athar had not been willing to take any chances by taking half-hearted attempt; he had put his full weight into the blow. If Trux had retained even a sliver of resistance, the consequences could have been disastrous.
"Give a beatdown to students who miss their quota submission?" Athar muttered darkly under his breath, pressing the other end of the rod onto Trux's face. More specifically, onto his lips.
These were Trux's own words, the ones he had used to threaten Athar. And now, Athar was repaying that debt. That too with interest.
A cruel smirk spread across Athar's face as he raised the rod once more. With a swift, brutal motion, he brought it down onto Trux's jaw.
A dull, sickening crunch echoed through the stairwell—the sound of the jaw bone splintering and teeth shattering.
Trux's mouth was forced open by the impact, and a torrent of blood mixed with fragments of shattered teeth poured out.
His face was now a mangled mess, one side drenched in dark, glistening blood as it seeped from the fractured jaw and torn flesh within.