Ethan stood at the edge of the hallway, arms folded, leaning against the wall just enough to hear their conversation. The girl stood tall despite being cornered by three older-looking guys. Their jackets bore the faint red insignia of Iron Fang. Typical.
Guy 1 smirked. "Come on, babe. It's just a quick talk with the boss. You don't want to make things harder for yourself."
Guy 2 stepped in closer, tilting his head. "Yeah, you wouldn't want your pretty little reputation stained just 'cause you refused a friendly invite, right?"
The girl didn't flinch. Instead, she crossed her arms slowly, her posture firm and unbothered. Her eyes stayed locked on them—sharp, unwavering, and laced with quiet challenge, like she was daring him to try something.
"Your boss can find someone else to stroke his ego. Tell him that I'm not interested."
Guy 3 scoffed. "Tch, feisty. You really think you get to say no? That's not how things work around here and you should know that."
The girl leaned forward slightly, with her chin up. "You're barking up the wrong tree. Try that intimidation routine on someone who hasn't already crushed it before breakfast."
Ethan raised a brow, letting out a quiet chuckle. "Damn," he muttered. "She's got bite."
Still, he turned his back and began walking away towards the cafeteria.
"Not my business," he muttered to himself. "Bold girl, knows how to handle herself well. I'm not some hero… I don't need to play knight for every fiery chick I see."
He paused.
The murmurs didn't stop. Voices got a bit louder. She was still standing firm—but even fire itself can be overwhelmed.
Ethan sighed, rubbing his temple. "This is such a pain," he said to himself. "I really couldn't care less. But…"
He turned slowly, each movement deliberate. His gaze drifted back toward the corner, eyes narrowing with a hint of suspicion. The shadows there seemed thicker now, the silence pressing in heavier, like the room itself was holding its breath.
"…leaving a girl outnumbered like that? Yeah, that's not really my style."
He clicked his tongue and began walking toward them.
"I blame my kind heart for what's about to happen."
The sound of Ethan's steady footsteps echoed through the hallway. All four of them turned their heads—three with suspicion, one with curiosity.
Guy 1 narrowed his eyes. "You lost or something?"
Guy 2 stepped in, eyeing him up and down. "You're not from our crew. You got business here?"
Guy 3 cracked his knuckles. "Unless you're trying to make this your business, I suggest you walk the other way."
Ethan didn't slow down. His hands were casually tucked in his pockets, shoulders relaxed, expression unreadable. When he stopped in front of them, his eyes didn't even acknowledge the guys.
He went straight to the girl—just a brief glance to see if she was okay. Then he turned back to the three.
"Three grown men circling one girl. That's what you guys are now?" His voice was calm, almost bored. "This how Iron Fang operates? Cornering girls like high school bullies?"
The tension in the air thickened.
Guy 1 scoffed. "Watch your mouth."
Guy 2 stepped closer, his jaw twitching. "You got a death wish or something?"
Ethan tilted his head. "Death wish? Nah. But I do have eyes. And what I see is three clowns making a scene over one girl who clearly said no."
The girl blinked, surprised. She wasn't expecting someone to step in—especially not this calmly.
Guy 3 shoved a finger into Ethan's chest. "You think you're funny, huh? You really wanna mess with Iron Fang over some chick?"
Ethan looked down at the hand, then slowly back up to the guy's face. "Don't touch me."
The tone changed.
Colder. Firmer.
Guy 3 hesitated but didn't back down. "She's got a meeting with our boss. It's not optional."
Ethan gave a slight smirk. "Well, if it's not optional, maybe your boss should learn how to handle rejection."
Guy 2 growled. "You little—"
"You guys really that desperate for power?" Ethan cut in. "If you need backup to talk to a girl, maybe you're not as tough as you pretend to be."
The silence after that hit like a slap.
Guy 1 clenched his fists. "You don't know who you're messing with."
Ethan finally smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Maybe not. But I know what I'm not doing—watching three insecure dogs bark at someone they can't intimidate."
The girl let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, hiding the smirk on her lips.
The three Iron Fang guys were fuming now. Agitation burned in their eyes, but Ethan didn't flinch. He stood still, calm in the storm he had just stirred.
"Now," Ethan said, "why don't you run along and let her decide who she wants to talk to?"
The three Iron Fang guys were seething. Their fists clenched. Breathing heavier. The air shifted—less talk, more violence.
"You've got a big mouth," one of them hissed. "Let's see if you can still talk after we break that smug face."
The girl's eyes widened. She stepped forward quickly. "Hey—don't! He's not worth it, alright?" She turned to Ethan, voice lower, tense. "You. I don't know who you are, but just go. This isn't your fight. I can handle it."
Ethan glanced at her calmly, the barest hint of a smile on his face. "Yeah, I figured you could." He tilted his head slightly. "But I'm not really doing this for you. It's just… my morals. Can't stand unfair odds."
She stared at him, unsure whether to be frustrated or flattered. "You're going to get hurt."
Ethan chuckled, taking a step forward as one of the guys growled behind him. "Then I guess I'll just have to put all those fighting videos I've been binge-watching to good use."
Before she could respond, one of the Iron Fang guys let out a guttural scream and charged at Ethan, fist flying forward.
Ethan smirked, cracked his neck, and said under his breath—
"Let's see if YouTube martial arts are worth the hype."
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