Sam couldn't get up. His mind was foggy, thoughts scrambled.
But his will—that insane, stubborn will—refused to die.
He began punching his own legs, biting his forearm like a starving animal.
The audience froze in terror, horrified at Sam acting like a mad dog.
"I'M NOT DONE!!!" he roared.
He crawled… then slowly stood again.
Because Taarush had beaten him—a weak-looking kid—every student in the room suddenly thought they could rise to the top too.
Confidence surged, fists tightened, ambitions flared.
Sam took one massive step back—
BOOM!
He released a single punch into the air, and the shockwave made students stumble backward.
A terrified kid screamed,
"I thought he was weak—but he's a monster!!"
The atmosphere turned ice-cold.
Every student understood the meaning of true fear.
Sam didn't stop.
He kept swinging, snarling, smashing the ground—uncontrolled, violent, unstoppable.
Taarush finally woke up, pulling himself to his feet.
"Don't go! Let's run away!" Sannya shouted, her voice trembling with fear.
But the crowd parted, clearing a path.
Every pair of eyes silently said:
Taarush… fight.
Taarush groaned, staring at Sam's bloody fists.
"Oh god… you look like a mad dog. What is that blood on your hands?"
Sam rushed forward, swinging a punch.
The impact echoed like thunder.
Taarush blocked—
CRACK.
His bone shattered.
Crazy strength…
Taarush's inner thoughts trembled.
He was thrown backward so hard that the crowd caught him like a ragdoll.
Jhon knew it.
No one else could stop Sam.
He tore off his shirt.
"The fool is being a fool again…" he muttered.
Sam sensed the overwhelming presence behind him.
Jhon walked forward slowly—like a king entering the underworld.
Sam smirked, finally seeing a proper opponent.
They both swung at the same time—
BANG!!
Their fists collided, shaking the entire underground.
Both of them smiled.
Jhon's ripped body glistened, abs sharp enough to cut air.
"Don't worry. I'm here," Jhon said confidently… then giggled for no reason.
Minutes passed.
Neither backed down.
Jhon wiped sweat from his chin.
"Tsk… I really didn't want to show this technique."
He pointed toward Taarush.
"I want YOU to witness this."
Jhon pulled his left hand back, placing his right forward in a mocking stance.
Sam growled in rage, rushing forward.
Jhon faked with his right—
WHIP!!
—but struck with his left.
Sam staggered, blood dripping from his mouth, dazed.
Before he could react—
SMACK!
A sharp punch hit Sam's neck.
His eyes widened, clarity returning instantly.
"Did I… do anything?" Sam asked blankly, confused about the last few seconds.
But the match was over.
Winner: Taarush.
He didn't stay to hear cheers.
Taarush simply walked away, offering no wish, no demand.
Everyone in the room understood one thing:
Sam had held back when fighting Taarush.
That realization sent a deeper fear through every student.
Then the temperature dropped.
Lord entered the room.
"I thought you would win…" Lord said calmly, eyeing Sam.
"Don't worry. Get up. We need to prepare for war."
Jhon slapped his forehead dramatically.
"Dammit… I tore my shirt again."
He sobbed theatrically, grabbed a random student's clothes, and muttered,
"You should be grateful you helped me."
The student stood frozen, dying inside.
"Y-Yes sir…"
The three gang members left the Hell Room.
But the silence Lord carried behind him…
Was colder than death.
Sam and Jhon felt it in their bones—
War was coming.