Bully Lord

Part-14

The tension crackled louder than the excited whispers of the student body. As James and Ryan stood face-to-face, a low murmur rippled through the crowd, punctuated by bursts of nervous energy.

"Whoa, looks like things are gonna get heated!" chirped Sarah, a girl from James' class, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and excitement.

"Yeah, no way that shrimp can take on Ryan," scoffed John, a notorious bully from 9B, leaning back with a smirk. "Ryan placed sixth in the National Judo U-19 this year!"

"Seriously?" Sarah gasped, a tinge of worry creeping into her voice. "But James looked pretty determined..."

"Determination won't win against judo throws," scoffed John, enjoying his moment of dominance in the knowledge gap.  "Ryan could have James on the ground in seconds."

Across the hallway, a group of girls from Mili's class huddled together, their faces etched with concern.

"Mili doesn't deserve this," whispered Maya, her brow furrowed. "That Ryan guy is such a jerk."

"Do you think James will step in?" asked Nadia, biting her lip nervously.

"He seems brave," chimed in Anika, "but Ryan is just...bigger."

A tall, lanky boy with glasses, known as "Specs" for his studious nature, chimed in from the fringes of the crowd. "Don't underestimate the underdog," he said quietly, his voice laced with a hint of wisdom. "Sometimes, a well-placed punch can surprise even the best-trained fighter."

The buzzing commentary of the crowd faded into a distant hum as a new window materialized before James.  This wasn't the familiar blue screen of the Bully System, but a stark red one, pulsing with an ominous urgency. Blazoned across it in bold white letters was the message:

**Mission 3: Slap Ryan with Thunderclap Slap Skill (0/2). Reward: +2 CHA.**

Below it, a chilling reminder: **If you don't complete it, there will be a penalty.**

**Penalty: Struck by Thunder.**

A heavy sigh escaped James' lips. The weight of the situation settled on him like a leaden cloak.  Free will versus a system-imposed mission – the choice, it seemed, wasn't truly his.  He couldn't risk being struck by thunder in the middle of the hallway.  With a resigned nod, he accepted the mission.  The red window vanished, replaced by the familiar blue screen. 

The air crackled with anticipation as Ryan lunged forward, his years of judo training evident in the swift, fluid movement. He aimed for a textbook throw – a hip throw designed to send James sprawling onto the hard floor of the hallway.

But James surprised everyone, including himself.  A surge of adrenaline fueled his reflexes, and with a practiced movement honed in hours of secret training, he countered Ryan's attack. His arm rose in a sharp block, deflecting Ryan's momentum. A gasp rippled through the crowd. No one knew James knew karate.

"Whoa, did you see that?" someone whispered.

"Since when is James a martial artist?" another chimed in, disbelief coloring their voice.

Empowered by this unexpected advantage, James pressed his attack. He launched into a series of precise kicks and punches, his movements a blur of focused energy. The crowd, initially stunned, erupted in a cacophony of cheers and jeers.