The atmosphere in the college was as usual—students bustling about, conversations echoing through the corridors, and the occasional laughter from a distant corner. However, amidst the ordinary day, an unfamiliar presence disrupted the flow.
A tall, broad-shouldered man strode purposefully across the campus, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd as if searching for someone. His aura carried an unsettling weight, turning a few heads as he passed.
It didn't take long for him to find his targets.
Wick and Shristi were standing near the sports ground, engaged in a conversation, when they noticed him approaching. The man stopped a few feet away, his gaze locking onto them with an intensity that sent an unspoken message—he was here for something serious.
"I finally found you two," he said, his voice deep and controlled.
Wick narrowed his eyes. "And you are?"
The man smirked faintly. "Hamza." He let the name sink in before adding, "I believe you remember my younger brother."
Shristi inhaled sharply. The weight of that name crashed upon her. Hamza's brother—the same man Wick had beaten mercilessly to protect her.
Wick remained unfazed, his expression unreadable. "I've dealt with a lot of people. You'll have to be more specific."
Hamza's smirk faltered for a brief moment before he let out a low chuckle. "You really don't care, do you?" His eyes then shifted to Shristi, his gaze lingering just long enough to make her uneasy. "My brother is after you both. He wants revenge, and he won't stop until you're dead."
Shristi clenched her fists. She had expected retaliation, but hearing it out loud made her stomach twist.
Wick's posture remained relaxed, but his sharp gaze never wavered. "And you? What do you want?"
Hamza tilted his head. "I don't want her to die," he admitted. "Which is why I'm here—to offer you a deal."
Shristi exhaled, trying to steady her racing heart. "What kind of deal?"
Hamza folded his arms. "An apology."
A sharp silence followed.
Wick blinked once, his head tilting slightly as if he had misheard. "A what?" His tone dripped with disbelief.
Hamza met his gaze without flinching. "An apology. You humiliated my brother. You crushed his pride in front of everyone. Say you're sorry, and I'll make sure he backs off. Simple."
A low chuckle rumbled in Wick's throat before it turned into a full, amused laugh. He shook his head, as if Hamza had just cracked the most ridiculous joke. "Let me make one thing very clear," Wick said, his voice dangerously quiet. "I don't apologize. To anyone." His dark eyes locked onto Hamza's. "Especially not to someone who deserved it."
Shristi could feel the tension thickening like a storm cloud ready to burst.
Hamza exhaled, his expression unreadable. "I thought so," he murmured. He took a step back, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. "Fine. I won't force you."
Shristi released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, but the relief was short-lived.
Hamza's next words sent a chill down her spine.
"But in that case," he continued, his voice casual, almost too casual, "I can only guarantee her safety for as long as you do what I ask."
Wick's amusement vanished in an instant. His jaw tightened. "What the hell does that mean?"
Hamza met his gaze, his calm exterior now carrying a razor-sharp edge. "It means exactly what it sounds like. You refused the easy way out, so now you'll play by my rules. I'll be in touch soon."
With that, Hamza turned on his heels and walked away, leaving behind a suffocating silence.
Shristi's heart pounded. She could still feel the weight of his words pressing down on her.
Wick, however, remained still. A storm brewed behind his eyes, his fists clenched tightly by his sides.
For the first time in a long while, someone had issued a threat that even he couldn't ignore.
---
The Hearing Before the Team Games
The news spread like wildfire across the campus—Wick was being summoned for a disciplinary hearing. But this was no ordinary hearing. Along with the principal, several influential political figures were present, making it clear that this wasn't just about college rules. It was about control.
As the doors to the grand hall swung open, Wick entered with his usual unbothered demeanor, walking in as if he owned the place. Instead of acknowledging the tense atmosphere or the panel of powerful individuals waiting for him, he was casually chatting with Annu and Shristi, his tone light, almost dismissive of the entire situation.
The murmurs in the crowd grew louder. Everyone was curious—what exactly was going to happen in this hearing?
The principal cleared his throat. "Today, this hearing will be presided over by the Honorable Retired Judge, a close friend of the college's owner."
A distinguished-looking older man, dressed in formal robes, nodded at the introduction. His gaze settled on Wick. "Ah, Mr. Wick, I presume."
Wick, however, didn't even glance in his direction, still engrossed in his conversation with Shristi and Annu.
Annu nudged him. "Hey, pay attention!"
The judge's patience thinned. He slammed his gavel on the table, the sharp crack echoing through the hall. "Mr. Wick, if you do not focus right now, we will proceed without your defense, and you will be found guilty."
Wick finally turned towards the judge, his expression one of amused indifference. "Yes, dear?"
The entire hall went silent. A few gasps were heard.
The judge stiffened. "Can I have your attention, please?"
Wick leaned forward slightly, smirking. "Absolutely."
The judge took a deep breath, regaining his composure. "Do you accept or deny that you attacked and brutally injured Mr. Sam?"
Wick's expression didn't change. "I do not accept that charge. It was an act of self-defense. Yes, I fought him, and I did so intentionally, but only within the specific circumstances of protecting myself and others."
The judge narrowed his eyes. "Self-defense or not, this is not the only charge against you. You have also been accused of defamation against Miss Khusi, and with your aggressive mentality, you are unfit to lead The Shield. Therefore, we demand that you step down and hand over leadership to us. The Shield will be placed under the guidance of our honorable political leader. Perhaps you will learn something by being under his command."
A slow, cold smile spread across Wick's face. "Actually, I can't do that. Because handing over The Shield would be the same as handing over myself—and that, dear judge, would be nothing short of indentured servitude or, depending on how you phrase it, prostitution." His voice dropped, laced with sarcasm. "I'm afraid you can't have it."
A murmur of shock ran through the room. Some students in the audience stifled their laughter, while the political leaders exchanged irritated glances.
The judge, his patience now razor-thin, straightened in his seat. "Then, I would like to call an expert to weigh in on this matter. I invite Mr. Mason to speak."
Wick tilted his head. "Oh? But I'm still waiting for an expert to show up."
The crowd chuckled, though some quickly covered their mouths.
Mason, a middle-aged man with a stern expression, stepped forward. "You're right, Wick. I may not be an expert, but I know how things work. And I also invite Roy, the leader of The Legacy, to provide his views."
The doors opened, and Roy walked in. Wick leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing here, mate?"
Roy gave a casual nod. "I was invited by the principal."
The judge turned to Roy. "Can you explain your relationship with The Shield and provide your perspective on their actions?"
Roy exhaled, choosing his words carefully. "We fight. A lot. Especially Wick. He likes violence, no doubt about it. But The Shield has never made it personal. And, ironically, because of them, there's been peace in this college."
The judge frowned. "That is enough, Roy."
Mason, seizing the moment, addressed the room. "Your Honor, I would like to show video evidence—a clip in which Wick and his friends are involved in a fight."
The lights dimmed as the screen flickered to life. The audience leaned in, expecting a serious moment. But while the video played, Wick casually leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on his phone, tapping away as if utterly uninterested.
The judge noticed. "Mr. Wick, pay attention!"
Without looking up, Wick countered, "Actually, you should be paying attention to the screen."
Confused, the judge and Mason turned towards the display. The video had changed. Instead of footage incriminating Wick, a completely different video was playing—scenes from other colleges where teachers were being assaulted by students, and violent brawls broke out far worse than anything at their own institution.
The room fell into chaos.
Shristi blinked, confused. "What just happened?"
Nick, covering his mouth to stifle his laughter, whispered, "That idiot hacked it."
Wick smirked, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "So, dear committee, I'd like to draw your attention to these other institutions, where violence is twice as high as ours. Ah—wait! Is that Mr. Mason in the background?"
A political leader shot to his feet. "Turn that off immediately!"
Mason, now pale, jumped from his chair and rushed to the screen, fumbling to shut it down. His hands trembled as he struggled with the controls. It took him multiple tries before he finally turned it off, his face red with humiliation.
Wick leaned back, stretching his arms. "So, as I was saying—most of these colleges are twice as violent, and Mr. Mason here? Four times worse."
Mason, furious and embarrassed, snapped, "I want to talk about the recent attack on the college!"
Wick raised an eyebrow. "And I want to talk about your reaction just now, but hey, we can't always get what we want."
One of the committee members sighed. "I think we're done here. He's made his point."
The judge rubbed his temples, clearly exhausted. "I don't see any reason to continue this hearing."
Wick smirked. "The point is—you're welcome, I guess." He leaned forward, his voice carrying a sharp edge. "Actually, my plan—to keep this place secure—is working. We're safe. You want my position? You can't have it. But you do have my favor." He leaned back, a victorious glint in his eyes. "I've successfully privatized peace in this college. What more do you want?"
The judge sighed heavily and slammed his gavel. "This hearing is adjourned. Mr. Wick is not guilty."
Wick stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets as he casually strolled towards the exit. He glanced at Roy, smirking.
"Guess that's a win."
Roy chuckled. "You never play fair, do you?"
Wick flashed a grin. "Fair is boring."
And with that, he walked out, leaving behind a room full of frustrated politicians, a humiliated Mason, and a crowd that had just witnessed the most entertaining hearing in college history.
To be continued...