Part-55

  The girl approached him hesitantly, her voice barely a whisper. "Thank you," she mumbled, her eyes filled with gratitude.

  James waved a dismissive hand. "Don't sweat it," he said, his voice gruff despite the lingering shakiness. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't feel fortable lingering. Maybe it was the potential arrival of the seniors, or perhaps a newfound sense of independenbsp; Whatever the reason, he didn't want to get entangled further.

  With a curt nod towards the girl, he turned and walked away, the soft glow of the setting sun painting the park in hues e and purple. As he walked, he repyed the events of the evening in his mind. He had faced his fears, stood up for someone weaker, and even earned a reward – the Snake Jab teique. A sense of aplishment swelled within him, a feeling of power he'd never known before.

  One week had passed, and the air in the hallways crackled with a strange energy. Gohe usual nervous gnces James received, repced by a mix of curiosity, apprehension, and a hint of morbid fasation. Whispers followed him like shadows, their source a flurry of excited murmurs.

  "Did you hear? James vs. Sourov! After school today!"

  "No way! James? That shrimp?"

  "Apparently, he messed up one of Judo Club's boys st week."

  James gritted his teeth, trying to ighe buzz. News of the park enter also had spread like wildfire, morphing into a distorted legend that painted him as some kind of underdog hero. The truth, as always, was more nuanced. He wasn't a hero, not yet. He was just a kid trying to survive in a woverned by a twisted game.

  James thought that if things tinued like this, he would soon bee the school deli. Just as he was about to call off the battle, the ever-present System chimed in with a new mission notification.

  **[Mission 11: Face Sourov in a duel. Win or lose, gain respect (or fear).]**

  **[Reward: ???]**

  **[Penalty: If you don't face him, public humiliation and potential injuries is waiting for you.]**

  The System, it seemed, thrived on flibsp; James had no choice but to accept the challenge. Today, after school on a blessed Thursday (half-day!), the schoolyard would bee his battleground.

  He reached his locker, the weight of anticipation heavy on his shoulders. He g the faded martial arts book tucked is pages well-worn. It was a meager on against the unknown strength of Sourov, but it was all he had. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and focused on the "Kangaroo Cut" teique, the image of its powerful arc seared into his mind.

  The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the schoolyard as James walked towards the makeshift arena. trary to his expectations, the atmosphere wasn't one of nervous anticipation or hushed whispers. Instead, a jovial energy buzzed around the gathered crowd. Students, many Judo gis (uniforms) or kickboxing pads, cheered and exged friendly banter. It dawned on James – in this school, a "match" wasn't a brawl between delis; it was a saned event.