"Hahahahahahaha!"
A group of youngsters stood in the courtyard, whispering among themselves as they stared at a twitching body on the ground, their laughter cruel and unrestrained.
"I can't believe this trash dared to pick a fight in the academy. What a waste," sneered one young man, his face twisted in disgust.
"Did you see that? He couldn't even take a single strike!"
"Hehehe," a girl giggled behind her hand, her eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Shush... Don't speak too loudly," someone hissed.
"Why?"
"D.... Don't you know?"
"Know what, David?"
"He's the Young Master of the Sparta Clan," the boy muttered.
"Whaaat?!"
"Tsk, what a joke!" A flirtatious girl stepped forward, her revealing robes clinging to her curves and drawing gasps from the crowd. The young men's eyes burned with desire as they stared at her figure. "You must be jesting. How could such a great clan have a Young Master like this?" She scoffed.
"You...."
"What me? David, you must be mistaken. The real Young Master is Bridge Sparta."
"Bridge Sparta?"
Murmurs spread through the group; many had never heard the name.
The girl smirked, her cheeks flushing slightly, making the boys' breaths quicken.
"He's new to the academy."
"Wait... is he the one who beat this guy up?" a girl asked, her eyes shining with admiration.
"Yes," the seductive girl replied, her tone reverent.
"But shouldn't they be from the same clan? Why would they fight?"
Silence fell.
"This…"
It did make sense. Why would clan members turn on each other?
"This fool was a nuisance to the clan," the girl explained, flipping her hair. "Bridge Sparta had to teach him a lesson."
"Ohhh, now we understand!"
"H.. He…" David suddenly choked on his words.
"He what?"
"Is he… dead?" he finally blurted out.
The laughter died instantly.
Only now did they notice...., the twitching body had stopped. The body lay utterly still.
"This…" Shock rippled through the group as they hesitantly approached to check for a pulse.
Nothing.
It was a corpse.
"H...He killed his own clan member… Won't he be punished?" someone whispered, trembling.
"I…" The flirtatious girl paled.
"We won't get involved, right?" David asked, fear etched on his face. The Sparta Clan wasn't to be trifled with; they were the undisputed rulers of Boundless City, akin to royalty.
"What do we do?" a bulky youth muttered.
"Simple," the woman said after steadying her breath, forcing a smile. "We act like we were never here."
"But that's impossible! The Spartas will definitely investigate this matter!" David protested.
She sneered. "David, I didn't take you for a fool. A talentless wretch like him? Do you really think the clan cares?"
David hesitated, scratching his head—but unease gnawed at him. Something wasn't right.
"Good. You understand." She flicked her wrist. "Now let's go."
Without a backward glance, they abandoned the corpse, already dismissing it as worthless.
Moments later, a young man came into the scene, staring at the lifeless body with a smirk.
"Now that you're gone… there's no one left to vie for the clan leadership with me in the future."
He studied the corpse. Its features bore a faint resemblance to his own, though he was far more handsome. A flicker of envy crossed his face.
"What a Pity. You took that striking face of yours straight to hell." He sighed. "But brother… you have only yourself to blame."
"After all… you were always Uncle's favorite, even though you're just trash."
He would have given the clan leader's position to you and I don't want that. He grinned.
You brought this on your self. He said, as a cold glean flickered in his eyes. In your next life never be in opposition with me.