Young people have their vigor and fearlessness.
They resist rules in the ways only young people can.
Before the rules can completely crush them, young people won’t stop so easily.
Seeing that Ye Lan remained unmoved, John Edmond gave his class a glance.
A blonde girl from D Class was forcibly brought out from the crowd.
“Let go of me! Let me go!” the blonde girl struggled, but it was useless.
The difference in strength and physique was simply too great.
This was Yaselin, whom Ye Lan had thought had already escaped.
Ye Lan asked:
“Why haven’t you left yet?”
Yaselin forced a bitter smile:
“I got blocked…”
Ye Lan considered it—D Class was clearly acting with a plan, so naturally they would prevent Yaselin from escaping too.
John Edmond sneered:
“Oh? Getting cozy with another girl? Were you two eating together just now? This is a date! Ye Lan, you use our goddess and then toss her aside? What a scumbag!”
“Slap!”
A sharp slap echoed across the second floor.
A bright red handprint appeared on John Edmond’s face, leaving him stunned.
Yaselin stared dumbfounded as Ye Lan stepped forward.
The slap was like a flash of lightning—clean, crisp, and decisive.
“Keep your filthy mouth clean.”
Ye Lan took out a tissue to wipe his left hand, clearly disgusted by touching John Edmond’s face.
This was true humiliation.
“You…” John Edmond glared at Ye Lan fiercely, only to meet Ye Lan’s unwavering gaze.
From Ye Lan’s eyes, John Edmond felt a bone-chilling cold, as if plunged into an ice cellar.
The cold pressure made it hard for him to breathe, forcing him to step back.
But the burning pain on his face, combined with the shame of retreating, let anger and impulse override his rationality.
“You***, I’ll kill you.” John Edmond’s arms began to develop gray, keratin-like skin.
The protective keratin appeared on his face, and spikes protruded from his fists.
John Edmond was an esper, something Ye Lan already knew.
Without abilities, Ye Lan could only delay with the table flip.
Why delay? Because this was the cafeteria—a “safe zone.”
Minor scuffles were one thing, but using abilities here would be entirely different.
Ye Lan noticed the senior students in the corner slipping away.
The reason: a large group of upperclassmen in blue kendo uniforms were entering from the cafeteria entrance.
“All of you, attack!” John Edmond shouted to his followers:
“Break his legs! Make him pay for insulting me!”
The fight was about to erupt.
“Who is causing this commotion?”
At that moment, a deep and authoritative voice rang out.
“Shing! Shing! Shing!…”
The sound of swords being drawn echoed continuously.
In an instant, sword and blade shadows enveloped the second floor.
Sharp blades pressed against John Edmond’s neck, causing cold sweat to form.
He knew with his current ability, he could not prevent the blade from slicing his throat.
The senior wielding the sword gave a warning:
“Don’t act rashly—blades are merciless.”
Not only John Edmond, but all D Class students involved were now threatened by the swords.
Ye Lan was no exception, three blades pointed at his neck.
Clearly, his threat level was still high.
He quickly scanned the situation and raised his hands in surrender.
It wasn’t submission—it was purely a matter of the power gap.
Even if Ye Lan dragged all the students on the second floor into battle, they could not match the kendo club members.
Although Ye Lan’s face remained calm, his mind was in turmoil.
He couldn’t understand why the Kendo Club had gathered at the second floor of the cafeteria now.
Such an event had never occurred in his past life.
These students belonged to the Zan Hun Military Academy’s Kendo Club.
Though called a student club, the Kendo Club had the right to use the “Zan Hun” name without reservation.
It had existed since the academy’s founding, its history equivalent to that of the academy itself.
Without the Kendo Club, the academy might have been destroyed long ago.
The Kendo Club was usually low-profile, rarely recruiting openly, and its members seldom participated in school activities.
Yet now, so many appeared simultaneously—completely against their usual secretive policy.
Among the kendo-clad students, Ye Lan noticed several with gray hair.
Even with his two lifetimes of experience, he nearly gasped in shock.
These elders were extraordinary, some over 200 years old, with reputations and strength recognized across the alliance.
Ye Lan had no idea what wind had blown these elite figures together.
Though the cafeteria was noisy, he could faintly hear these elders mentioning “Master” repeatedly.
Then, the sound of light footsteps on smooth tiles appeared.
Ye Lan saw the kendo club members pointing swords at him freeze in place.
Even the other students followed suit, holding their breath—the entire second floor fell silent.
Who could command such respect to freeze the high-ranking Kendo Club members?
Ye Lan wanted to look, but the swords at his neck made it impossible.
“Put down your weapons.”
The voice was ethereal, like a lark’s song, reaching everyone’s heart.
“We are all classmates—do not hurt each other.”
“Yes!”
Clang!
The Kendo Club sheathed their swords in perfect unison.
Ye Lan touched his neck and exhaled in relief—his life no longer threatened.
This person’s command carried absolute authority over the Kendo Club.
John Edmond collapsed, feeling he had just faced death.
His followers wanted to help him, but the kendo club’s gaze froze them in place.
Ye Lan knew little about the Kendo Club, but he sensed from their aura that most had seen blood.
Their cold weapons weren’t illegal, but their presence alone was enough to terrify ordinary students.
The Kendo Club began to part, clearing a path.
“Welcome, Master.”
“Welcome, Master.”
Each member bowed with their swords—a symbol of submission and respect.
Ye Lan was extremely curious: what kind of person could command such a proud and powerful group?