2025-10-29 21:37:02About thirty minutes after the chaos at Neon Wears—where Michael had not only destroyed Charger and his men but also wrecked Becky’s Bentley—he and his friends found themselves at another luxury store across town. The tension had died down a bit, but Barry and Jace were still visibly shaken. They had begged Michael to avoid Neon Wears entirely after what happened.
Michael, calm as always, had insisted they finish their shopping there, but his friends flat-out refused. They were terrified Becky would call the police and have them arrested for assault and property damage. In their minds, Michael might be able to beat up security guards, but he couldn’t win against the law.
Michael didn’t care about the police—not because he thought himself invincible, but because he knew how to handle such matters quietly. Still, seeing how anxious his friends were, he decided not to argue. He only sighed and followed them into the new store to keep their minds at peace.
For the past half hour, Barry and Jace had been sneaking glances at Michael, their faces filled with disbelief. The same Michael who used to get bullied in class? The same Michael who never fought back, who once got slapped by a junior and didn’t even raise his voice? The same guy had just sent Charger’s men flying through the air like rag dolls.
Jace couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Bro… where the hell did you learn that?” he asked. “Like, since when did you start fighting like that?”
Michael smiled faintly, shaking his head. “Just been practicing secretly,” he said coolly. “I got tired of the bullying, so I found an online master who’s been training me for a while.”
“Online master?” Barry repeated, frowning. “Like YouTube or something?”
Michael shrugged. “Something like that.”
The two friends exchanged a look of relief. So that was it—beginner’s luck. A lucky streak. Nothing mystical or mysterious.
Barry slapped Michael on the back and laughed. “Man, that was wild though. You saw Charger’s face? He looked like a cartoon character missing a tooth!”
The memory made them all laugh. Jace couldn’t stop reenacting how Charger’s men flew through the air and crashed into Becky’s car. “Boom! Boom! Boom!” he said, waving his arms dramatically.
Barry wiped a tear from his eye, still laughing. “Man, I can’t wait to see the memes! Charger’s livestream must’ve gone viral by now!”
They were still laughing as they stepped into the store. This one was glossier, larger—filled with gold trimmings and the scent of imported leather. It screamed class. The trio stood there for a while, admiring the elegance.
Just then, a sudden scream pierced the air.
“MICHAEL!!!”
They all turned. Three stunning girls, dressed in designer clothes and holding shopping bags, were waving excitedly from across the room.
“MICHAEL!!! Oh my God, it’s HIM!” one of them yelled, bouncing on her heels.
Barry and Jace froze, then turned to Michael with wide grins. “Bro…” Jace whispered. “You just became famous.”
Barry elbowed him. “See? You don’t need Jane anymore, bro. These baddies are literally screaming for you now!”
Michael chuckled modestly. The girls started calling him names:
“Campus Bruce Lee!”
“Lancelot of Moons!”
“The Dragon King!”
All making the boys laugh even harder.
“Wave back, man!” Barry urged. “Don’t be shy!”
Michael hesitated, then gave a small wave. The girls squealed even louder and started running toward them, throwing their shopping bags aside as if they couldn’t wait another second. Barry and Jace stepped back, clearing the way dramatically.
“Open your arms, bro,” Jace whispered, nudging him. “Time to embrace your fans!”
Michael awkwardly spread his arms open. The girls kept running—until they reached him… and shoved all three of them aside.
Barry and Jace crashed to the floor, and Michael staggered but caught himself before falling. The girls didn’t even look at them. They brushed past, their perfumes trailing behind, and ran straight toward someone standing behind the trio.
Michael turned—and froze.
It was Michael Braken, better known as Mikel, the campus green belt karate champion. The girls squealed and jumped into his arms like he was a movie star.
For a moment, Mikel looked confused—but when the girls started hugging him and calling him “the strongest man on campus,” he went along with it.
Barry’s jaw dropped. “What the hell?”
Jace scowled. “They thought that Michael was this Michael!”
Michael just sighed, rubbing his temples. “Let them have it. It’s fine.”
“Fine?!” Barry barked. “Bro, they’re giving your credit to him! That’s YOUR slap that broke Charger’s tooth!”
Michael laughed softly. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t need the attention.”
But Mikel was thriving on it. He hugged the girls tighter, posing for selfies and videos. Within minutes, his phone started buzzing uncontrollably. When he checked it, his Gram followers had skyrocketed—from less than 5,000 to over 250,000 in half an hour.
“What the—?” he muttered, scrolling through his notifications. His DMs were blowing up—from girls he had admired for years, from campus influencers, even from people outside the university. Some were calling him a legend, a hero, the “Dragon of Moons.”
He blinked in disbelief. “Did I just become… famous?”
One of the girls giggled, tugging his arm. “Of course, you did! We all saw what you did to Charger! You’re amazing!”
Mikel froze. “Ch–Charger?!”
“Yeah!” another girl said dreamily. “You destroyed him and his men! Everyone’s talking about it!”
Mikel’s eyes widened in panic. ‘Charger? The same Charger who beat me up last semester?’
There was no way. He wasn’t even there!
Trying to keep his cool, he laughed nervously. “Ah, right, right. Yeah… that Charger.”
The girls clung to him tighter, squealing. “You’re the strongest man on campus!”
Mikel forced a grin but was sweating bullets. He excused himself, saying he needed to “use the restroom,” and hurried away. His heart was pounding.
“Who the hell beat up Charger then?” he muttered to himself as he locked the door behind him. “And why does everyone think it’s me?”
He stared at his reflection in the mirror, realization dawning slowly.
“…Wait. Don’t tell me… it was that other Michael? Can’t be, he’s a weakling.”
Outside, the girls were livestreaming, tagging him, calling him “Campus Dragon King.” The store’s speakers were filled with their laughter.
Meanwhile, a few aisles away, the real Michael was silently checking out outfits with his friends—calm, unreadable, and smiling faintly at the irony of it all.
For the first time in his life, he didn’t need recognition to feel powerful.
The world could keep worshiping a fake. He didn’t care.
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Chapter 164
Michael and Celia shot up on their feet at the same time, their bodies moving before their minds fully caught up. “Mira’s here!” Barry repeated, his breathing uneven. “She’s not making any move right now. That actually alarms me even more.” Michael didn’t hesitate. He turned to Celia, his hands already on her shoulders. “Go find Adrian and stay with him. Don’t leave his side for a second, got that?” Celia opened her mouth, then stopped. She saw the look in his eyes and nodded instead. “Be careful.” She said quietly, then ran. Michael turned back to Barry. “Let’s go. Make sure your eyes are peeled for any funny business, lock the gates and Be ready for anything.” Barry swallowed. “You sure? Going out there by yourself is crazy.” Michael was already moving. “I’ll handle her.” He stepped outside the facility gates alone, rain soaking into his clothes as the cold night air wrapped around him. The floodlights revealed Mira’s convoy clearly. Armored vehicles lined up in a neat row,
Chapter 163
“Like my new skill, brother?” Mira asked, her voice calm and cruel at the same time. A twisted smile spread across her face as the crimson pressure tightened around Michael’s body. The raindrops above them that froze in the air sharpened and turned into thin, piercing drops that stabbed into his skin. “That pressure you’re feeling? Like your body’s about to crush itself? Yeah… It doesn’t go away easily. You’ll still feel it even after I let you go.” Michael tried to breathe, but his chest felt heavy, like something massive was sitting on it. Every breath burned and his knees shook as the invisible force squeezed him from all sides. The blue glow in his eyes flickered weakly. His vision blurred as sounds became distant, as if he were sinking underwater. His body had reached its limit. Mira stepped closer, enjoying the sight. The rain hovered around her, obeying her will. Then… Wham! A loud metallic sound echoed through the rain. Mira’s head snapped forward as something struck the
Chapter 162
“I’m here.” Michael said, already crossing the room. His hands moved fast, undoing the restraints at her wrists and ankles. “We’re getting you out. Right now.” Celia's knees almost gave out when she stood, and he caught her without thinking, pulling her close just long enough to feel her breathe against him. “I knew you’d come.” She whispered. “Always.” He said, pressing his forehead to hers for half a second. Then reality snapped back into place. “Can you walk?” She nodded. Barry leaned in from the doorway, scanning the corridor. “We need to move. Patrols are shifting.” Michael turned Celia toward the exit and took one step, then the lights suddenly cut out. Emergency red strips flickered on, bathing the room in an uneasy glow. A voice came from the doorway, calm, familiar, and far too close. “Running already?” Michael’s body went rigid. The lights fully came back on. Jace stood there, blocking the way out. His jacket hung loose on one side, the empty sleeve tied off at the
Chapter 161
Alex was buried on the grounds of the specialized training facility, beneath a tall steel arch that overlooked the open training fields. The rain had stopped by then, but the sky remained dull and heavy, as if the world itself hadn’t finished grieving. Soldiers stood in neat rows, heads bowed. Engineers, medics, trainees, everyone Alex had ever trained or mentored never left the city, they were all remained in the city because of the trust they had for him. No speeches were made, none were needed. His legacy stood in the people he had shaped. Michael stood at the front, silent. After the burial, he met with Alex’s development team in the lower wing of the facility. Half-finished components lined the walls. The prototype battlesuit rested in its frame, dark and lifeless without its creator. One of the engineers spoke hesitantly. “Alex was the lead developer. He designed the core systems himself. We helped, but he did most of the work.” “You still built it.” Michael interrupted cal
Chapter 160
Michael moved through the battlefield like water finding its path—smooth, deliberate, unstoppable. Every step, every turn, every strike carried the weight of Alex’s teachings. He didn’t rush. He didn’t waste motion. He let the chaos come to him and answered it with precision. Soldiers charged, fired, shouted orders, but none of it broke his focus. His body moved on instinct now, muscle memory sharpened by training and grief alike.Each takedown landed heavy in his chest.These weren’t faceless enemies. They were Scofield soldiers. Men and women raised to protect the empire. Raised to protect him. Somewhere along the line, they had chosen Mira. Or maybe they believed in her vision. Or maybe they were just following orders, the same way soldiers always did. Michael felt the sting of it with every blow he landed, but he didn’t stop.They had made their choices.And so had he.A blade came toward his side—he caught the wrist, twisted, disarmed, and struck the soldier unconscious with the
Chapter 159
The five war experts shot up from their seats almost in unison, metal chairs screeching harshly against the floor. “Have you gone mad?!” One of them barked. “You’ll bring the entire structure down!” Michael straightened, dust still drifting around him like smoke after an explosion. He casually rolled his shoulders once, looking bored out of his wits, then looked up at them with a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “That entertaining enough for you?” For a brief moment, none of them answered. The experts, who were legends carved into history through blood and war, stared down at him in stunned disbelief. No one had spoken to them like this in decades. No one had dared. But even in their shock, there was a trace of grim understanding. A Scofield doing the unthinkable wasn’t exactly unprecedented. It ran in the blood. Power, arrogance, defiance, it was practically genetic. One of them snapped out of it first and pointed sharply toward the man Michael had defeated earlier. “Get him ou
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