With Eric’s quiet offer to act as a shield, the group felt a fragile surge of confidence. The sheer brutality they had witnessed earlier from the seniors was still fresh, but Eric’s presence was a stabilizing force. They believed—or perhaps they desperately hoped—that Donto’s athletic enforcers wouldn’t want to spark a full-scale brawl with someone who clearly knew how to handle himself. Eric had dismantled Charlie with such surgical precision that it seemed logical for the others to back off.
The most rational decision was to slip away while the chaos of the party provided cover. Everywhere they looked, freshmen were succumbing to peer pressure, popping the mysterious blue pills and laughing with a forced, nervous energy. Under the thumping bass of the nightclub music and the neon strobe lights, the group began to edge toward the main exit. Eric stayed close, his eyes constantly scanning the room like a seasoned bodyguard.
As they neared the heavy double doors of the bowling facility, the reality of their situation became chillingly clear. A line of seniors wearing matching soccer uniforms was positioned near the exit. They weren’t blocking it in an obvious, aggressive way; they were simply "lounging" against the walls, sipping drinks and chatting, but their eyes never left the crowd.
"They’re watching everyone," Talia whispered, her heart sinking as she realized the perimeter was entirely secure. "Every exit we try for, they’re going to be there. We’re being corralled."
The group huddled together, their eyes darting toward the emergency exits. They hoped that if they found a door in a more crowded area, they could blend in and slip out unnoticed. However, as they turned to pivot toward the back of the hall, they found their path blocked by a single, solid figure. Sono was standing right in front of them, a playful yet terrifying smirk on his face.
"What’s the rush, you guys?" Sono asked, his voice dripping with mock concern. "The party is just getting started, and I noticed you haven’t even touched your pouches. Remember what we said—this is an order from your seniors. As freshers, the first thing you need to learn is how to listen to those who came before you."
Talia stepped forward, her hands trembling. "I’m... I’m really sorry. But I have a serious medical condition. I don’t know what the ingredients are in these pills, and I’m worried it could have a dangerous reaction with my medication. We didn’t want to be a downer on the night, so we thought we’d just head out quietly."
It was a blatant lie, but Talia hoped it was grounded enough in reality to give Sono a reason to let them pass without losing face.
"A medical condition? I’m sorry, but that’s no can do," Sono stated, his smirk widening into something more predatory. "As we said, this is a requirement for everyone. But don’t you worry—we’re keeping a very careful eye on all of you tonight. If something does happen to you, we’ll be the first ones to make sure you’re okay. In fact, why don’t I just stand right here and watch you take it? That way, I can call for help the second you have a reaction."
The logic was suffocating. It was a trap designed to leave them with no exits.
"Hey," Eric said, stepping between the freshmen and the senior. "They already told you they don’t want to take this ’medicine.’ In this country, we have the choice to do what we want with our own bodies. You’re being way too forceful here."
Behind his back, Eric was subtly signaling for Steve, Talia, and Yovan to make a break for it—to head toward the crowded bowling lanes and find another way out. But as they shifted, they realized it was a futile effort. More members of the soccer team had drifted closer, forming a loose but impenetrable semi-circle around them.
"Oh, it’s you. The Wushu guy," Sono said, his eyes lighting up with a dark, manic energy. "You know what? You’re right. Humans should be able to do whatever they wish, in every sense of the word. And right now, I really, really wish to fight you."
Sono shifted his weight, his feet digging into the carpeted floor. Without another word, he charged forward with the raw, unbridled momentum of a bull. Eric was ready; he moved to the side with a fluid, graceful motion, tapping Sono’s shoulder to redirect the senior’s momentum and immediately dropping into a low, focused fighting stance.
"Damn it, he’s fighting again, and it’s all because of us," Steve muttered, the guilt gnawing at him. He looked around frantically, expecting the other seniors to swarm in and overwhelm Eric, but they didn’t move. They simply stood back with jagged smiles on their faces, watching as if they were viewing a spectator sport.
Sono skidded to a halt and turned back, his breathing heavy and excited. "I was interested the moment I saw you take down Charlie. I thought maybe you’d actually be a match for me. But honestly? Now I know for sure."
Sono began to walk forward, closing the distance inch by painful inch. Eric waited, his focus absolute. The moment Sono was in range, Eric unleashed a lightning-fast punch that landed squarely on the senior’s jaw. The sound of the impact was sharp, but Sono didn’t even flinch. His head barely moved.
Eric didn’t hesitate. He unleashed a barrage of strikes—punches and palms hitting Sono in the face, the neck, and the chest in a rapid succession. It was a beautiful display of martial skill, but to the horror of the freshmen, it looked like Eric was hitting a brick wall. Sono absorbed the punishment without a word, his eyes fixed on Eric with a terrifying, blank intensity.
Suddenly, Sono burst forward with a speed that belied his build. He ducked under Eric’s next strike and wrapped his massive arms around Eric’s waist.
"Your punches are light... I guess your martial arts really are useless in a real scrap!" Sono roared. He hoisted Eric off the ground and, with a surge of extreme strength, slammed him onto the floor.
The impact was bone-shaking. Before Eric could recover his breath, Sono dropped onto him, pinning Eric’s arms down with the full weight of his body and driving his knees into Eric’s shoulders. Eric struggled, his body twisting as he tried to find leverage, but the grounded, grappling style of the rugby player was an absolute counter to Eric’s upright, striking-based Wushu. Eric wasn’t a professional cage fighter; he was a student who practiced for the love of the art. Against Sono’s raw, unrestrained violence, he was trapped.
"Alright, time for a real pounding!" Sono shouted.
He drew back a massive fist and drove it straight into Eric’s face. The sound was sickening. Eric’s head snapped back against the floor, the metallic taste of iron filling his mouth as his lip split instantly. Sono didn’t stop. He rained down punch after punch, the sound of the impacts echoing over the music. Blood began to splatter across the floor, staining the carpet a dark, vibrant red.
The freshmen who had been cheering for the "entertainment" earlier began to quiet down. The atmosphere in the room shifted from excitement to a cold, visceral dread as they realized they were witnessing a one-sided execution. Steve stood frozen, tears streaming down his face as he watched the man who tried to help them get systematically broken.
"STOP!" Talia’s scream ripped through the air, louder than the music. "PLEASE! Stop hitting him! We’ll take the pills! We’ll take all of them! Just stop!"
Sono paused his fist mid-air, looking up at Talia with a wide, blood-flecked grin. He slowly climbed off the broken Eric and stood up, smoothing out his uniform.
"See? Was that so hard?" Sono asked, gesturing to the seniors to bring over the water.
Broken by the violence and the guilt of Eric’s sacrifice, every single student in the business department circle reached into their pouches. Under the watchful, satisfied eyes of Donto and his enforcers, they swallowed the blue pills. Within minutes, the entire room had complied, and the seniors finally began to laugh.