Chapter 19. Someone
In one of the old room, a hideout spot for Garrick.
In the center of the room, Mori knelt, trembling so violently his knees scraped against the rough stone.
His neck was a mess of red and purple bruises, the marks of Reo's grip still fresh. His head hung low, sweat and tears dripping onto the floor.
At the far end of the room sat Garrick, the undisputed king of the Bronze section of this academy. His massive frame filled the couch.
Two girls clung to his arms, their beauty starkly contrasted by the fear in their eyes. Around the room, a half-dozen lackeys stood stiffly, their faces pale as they tried to blend into the shadows.
Garrick's voice cut through the silence, low and guttural, each word dripping with rage. "So, you're telling me," he growled, leaning forward, "that you got your ass handed to you by Leonhardt?"
Mori flinched. "Y-yes," he whispered. His hands clawed at the floor as if trying to dig himself a hole to escape Garrick's wrath.
Garrick rose slowly.
"Why?" Garrick roared, his voice shaking the chandelier above. "How does a worthless piece of shit like you lose to Leonhardt?"
Mori's head snapped up, his tear-streaked face pale. "H-he's changed!" he stammered, his voice cracking.
"Leonhardt... he's stronger now! He doesn't fear anyone—not me, not anyone! He... he nearly snapped my neck!"