Chapter 181 The Reason They Respect Her
Chapter 181 The Reason They Respect Her
“Jesus, Tyger, are you out of your d*mm mind?!”
“That chick’s not even part of our camp! Why the hell are you hitting us for talking about her?!”
“You’re seriously messed up!”
Smack! Smack<i>! </i>Smack!
45 Free Coins
Three more ps rang out, and outside suddenly fell silent. The group scattered, making a break for the restroom up ahead. But the second they pushed through the door, they were greeted by the sight of Theresa standing at the sink, a cigarette between her fingers.
“Holy sh*t!”
Theresa looked up at the three who’d just walked right into the lion’s den. She tapped her ash and said coolly, “I heard you’ve been really curious about me.”
“We… we didn’t-”
“It’s fine. If you’re that curious, I’ll tell you. You’re dying to know why they all treat me with so much respect, right?” She stepped toward them, her tone casual but cold.
The three of them froze in ce. “Why?”
“Because I beat it into them.”
In the next instant, Theresa was suddenly right in front of them. Then came the first punch.
<i>Bang</i><i>! </i><i>Bang</i><i>! </i><i>Bang</i><i>! </i>
With a single punch each, she sent all three guys from Haven Camp flying. They crashed into the wall with a loud thud, and before they could even hit the ground, she was already on them, fists raining down.
She went for the eyes, not the temples; the philtrum, not the throat; under the cheekbone, not the jaw hinge; between the spine, not the ribs; the organs under the ribs, not the groin; the base of the pelvis, not the kidneys; the knees, not the tailbone; the pressure points, not the eardrums.
That was the rule of eight hits–and eight ces not to hit.
Theresa hit <i>all </i>eight.
Within minutes, the three were sprawled across the floor, twitching and groaning, beaten half to death- but still alive. It was a brutal, precise, and punishing disy. And Tyger, who had juste in behind. them, watched the whole thing with wide, shining eyes.
<i>If </i><i>my </i><i>sister </i><i>had </i><i>been </i><i>like </i><i>her</i><i>, </i>he thought, <i>she </i><i>never </i><i>would’ve </i><i>ended </i>up <i>the </i><i>way </i><i>she </i><i>did</i><i>. </i><i>Never </i>would’ve <i>been </i><i>bullied </i>into <i>taking </i><i>her </i>own <i>life</i><i>. </i><i>Every </i><i>girl </i><i>should </i><i>be </i>like <i>her</i><i>–</i><i>fighting </i><i>back</i><i>, </i><i>without </i><i>fear</i><i>. </i>
After getting in a solid round of “physical persuasion,” Theresa finally felt warmed up. She looked down at the three barely conscious guys and smiled. “Now you get why they’re always so polite with me, don’t you?”
The three, faces swollen and barely breathing, nodded like their lives depended on it.
We get it<i>! </i>Loud and clear! Who wouldn’t?! She’s not just <i>some </i><i>girl</i><i>–</i><i>she’s </i>a <i>godd </i><i>mn </i>war <i>goddess</i><b><i>! </i></b>
They were ability users, and yet not a single one of them had been able to activate their powers. Theresa had moved too fast–so fast they couldn’t even track her steps before she was already in their faces. One punch and all their defenses had crumbled. Her understanding of the human body was terrifying. Every move had been strategic, lethal in intent but not in execution. It was unrelenting, violent discipline<b>–</b><b>an </b>almost martial sense of justice.
“Now, f*ck off.” Theresa gave them one final kick, and the three of them scrambled away like their lives depended on it.
Once they were gone, she turned back to Tyger, who was still standing nearby. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered him one. “Want one?”
“I don’t smoke,” Tyger replied, waving it off.
That surprised her–this was the first time she’d ever spoken to Tyger. From what the others in the camp had said, he’d been in and out of juvie since he was a teenager, got into all kinds of trouble, andter became a regr in underground fight rings. Word was, he barely spoke, had a terrible temper, and was quick to throw a punch. The tattoos covering his body made him look dangerous–definitely not the kind of guy one’d expect to be clean.
“No worries,” Theresa said with a slight smile. “You can still take one.”
“I really don’t smoke. My little sister hated it.” Tyger’s voice was calm, but firm.
“You have a sister?” Theresa tucked away the cigarettes and pulled out two pieces of gum instead.
This time, Tyger epted. He unwrapped one carefully, popped it into his mouth, and started chewing. He didn’t throw the foil away, though–instead, he began folding it into a little paper boat in his hand.
“If you’ve got a sister… where is she now?”
“She’s dead,” Tyger said tly.
“Zombies<b>?</b><b>” </b>
“No.” Tyger’s voice darkened. His hands clenched slightly around the foil boat. “She jumped. If she were still alive, she’d probably be about your age.”
Theresa went quiet. She didn’t ask anything else.
But Tyger kept talking. Slowly, steadily. “My dad was a construction worker. Died in an ident when I was seven. My mom went to ask the boss forpensation… but he refused to pay. She killed herself–ran headfirst into a beam at the site entrance. After that, it was just me and my sister.”