AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I apologize for the late update — just got back from a family funeral that took place out-of-state. There will be a mass release soon to make up for it.
Enjoy the chapter
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I had managed to amass a sufficient amount of dregs from the streets of Incheon. I kept the ones that were useful, and discarded the rest to be managed by them. I didn't want to be surrounded by useless people.
By the time school finally started and I found myself at the gates of Incheon Middle School, I had a sufficient amount of force needed to keep the school in check after I was done with it. In terms of the school itself, I alone was more than enough, though I hoped I was wrong. I needed more of a challenge — not for something as vain as enjoying a fight, but because it would accelerate my growth.
Passerby's subconsciously made way for me, and I heard their mouths already starting to gossip about the seemingly exotic student with foreign features and designer clothes.
"Is that gucci? His parents must be loaded."
"I've never seen him before, he looks like he's from Europe."
"I dare you to ask for his number!"
I droned out the rest of their incessant chatting. I had already dug up what I could about each one of the staff along with the principle. They were what I expected of a school with a reputation like this, with bribery and the typical hush-hush scenario with certain students and their parents.
It was nothing that could pose a threat, however. I had already made the boys break in and extract pictures and other incriminating evidence in the staff's computers, as well as the principal's house. If push came to shove, I would show them they weren't dealing with another snot-nosed brat.
The hierarchy in the school was more of my type, and it fully played to my advantage. It was dog eat dog, with strength being the main currency not just in this specific school, but in all of Incheon. The gangs ran everything, and inside the school, the students with the strongest fist were scouted out and given work to prove themselves.
The stronger you were, the better it was for you and more opportunities outside of the school were granted to you. The real scouting didn't start, however, until high school. That means I had a bit more time before the gangs fully registered me in their radar.
That was only if I planned on stopping at a mere middle school however, which I didn't.
The fights and forces I beat into submission during that short one week period had proved to me my current power level. High schoolers were dangerous, but most of them only had an advantage of reach. In a one on one scenario I was confident, but I would wait until puberty fully kicked in before challenging them. There were definitely some powerful outliers that I would need more time to ensure that there would be no surprises I couldn't handle.
As I passed through the halls, I noted anyone that seemed like they could be of use to me, or even pose a threat. There were none that caught my eye so far, none of them seemed trained in any form of martial art except for a few, but they didn't have the hardened gaze that myself or Donald did. They were coddled sheep, even in a school with a reputation as bad as this one.
I was disappointed.
That disappointment was temporarily relinquished, however, when I stepped into the class I would be in for the next year. It seemed it was a bit early, as only a few people were found in the classroom. Some extroverted people were chatting with either their friends from a previous year, or new ones that they had just made. Other introverted ones were sitting at their desks, either sleeping or boringly waiting for the class to start.
What caught my eye, however, was a red-haired muscular kid in the back that was sleeping without a care in the world, his feet plastered on the top of his desk.
I walked up to him without hesitation.
He was even more massive now that I was right infront of him. His muscles bulged from within his school uniform, even as he was sleeping.
"Red hair."
I kicked the sleeping giant's desk, rattling it. His eyes shot open.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, kid."
He stood up from his desk, and towered over me.
"My name is Romeo. What's your name."
The giant that looked like more of a highschooler than a middle schooler didn't bother to respond, opting to send his open palm towards my face.
I blocked it, his hand slightly bigger than my entire head. His eyes widened in surprise. It seemed like even a casual blow like this, was something that he wasn't used to people being able to block. It was definitely strong compared to the dregs that I've been used to, but that was it.
"I'm not going to repeat myself."
His eyes glared at me in a new light as he took me slightly more seriously, before he leaned his head back and laughed. When he finally recollected himself, he looked back down at me with a grin.
"I thought this school would be filled with weak fuckers, but I already got entertainment on my first day!! The name's Eunsu Yeo, but you can call me Yeopo."
Eunsu Yeo? His parents gave him a name that suited him. He did look like a Korean Lu Bu. He seemed like a meatheaded person, more of a brawns than brains type of guy. He pointed his finger at me.
"You're not bad to block one of my hits. You're mine now. When I become the head of this school, you can be number two of Incheon Middle School."
He spoke as if his word was law, not even considering whether I agreed or not. He didn't care, because he still didn't see me as a true threat — just another source of entertainment at best.
He must have cruised up to this point with physical strength and genes alone, never suffering a single loss. Interesting.
My fist shot out like a cannon, burying itself deep into his liver. His eyes bulged as the air was instantly knocked out of him, a pain-filled wheeze coming out of his mouth as his body sank to the floor like an anchor, his knees hitting the ground with a bang.
The rest of the class, more filled now from the time that passed since I came in, looked our way to see what the noise was. The delinquents of the class that knew of Yeopo's renown were astonished to see him kneeling on the ground.
"No, you belong to me now."
Now that he was on his knees, I was the one towering over him.
"And when I take over Incheon, you'll still be my dog."
I patted his face, his body still recovering from the blow.
"Understand, puppy?"
Yeopo glared in fury before he roared, forcing himself on his feet with pure strength. I waited for him patiently before he sent a punch with the intention of taking my head off.
It was so, so slow. But I waited for it anyway and blocked it with my forearm, his strength surprising me slightly as I felt my arm rattle from the impact. He hit harder than anyone I fought so far, Donald included.
I ducked under the hook that followed, calculating where I should hit him next as it sailed over my head before my fist became a blur, speeding through the air and crashing into his chin.
To my surprise, instead of falling like a puppet with its strings cut off, he ate the punch like it was breakfast, his eyes glaring at me like a predator before a crazy smile adorned his face.
"YOU MAKE ME WANT YOU EVEN MORE!!"
Disgusting.
I waited for another one of his wild punches to almost hit me before barely dodging it. He was getting faster. The classroom didn't offer much room for me to dodge with, but his wild swings either threw any desks that were nearby us far away, some hitting unlucky bystanders that were too close, or dented them, the wood splintering around his fist.
I would play with him more later, this is dragging out for too long.
I let out a sliver. I loosened the chains to my rage, just by a hair.
The smile on his face stilled and the hairs on every inch of his body stood up as his subconscious sensed danger. It was too late.
I crashed my fist into his liver once again before slamming the other straight into his throat. He choked and sputtered before his knees crashed onto the ground once more, his face like a fish out of water as he struggled to breathe.
"I don't swing that way."
I sent my fist crashing into the side of his temple with no mercy, catapulting his body toward the ground and making his head bounce off the waxed floor like a deflated basketball.
At that moment, a middle aged man with balding hair walked into the class. His eyes scanned the classroom tiredly, widening for a second when he saw Yeopo's unconscious body laying on the floor and the damaged desks before clearing his throat.
"I'm your homeroom teacher, Nakamura Shin. I moved here from Japan two years ago, and will be taking care of you from now on."
So he was going to pretend he didn't see anything. That works for me.
Only a few students paid attention to what he was saying, the rest still staring at Yeopo's unconscious form. I looked over to them and they cowered back, continuing whatever conversation they were having with their friends or sinking back into their desks.