"You almost implicated me," Le-an said immediately, showing her regret for the help she had offered Kilos and registering her dissatisfaction for how he had abandoned her when she needed him most.
"I couldn't leave you alone... I didn't know what to do," Kilos said, his words filled with a remorseful gesture.
For the doctor, she had thought Kilos Barber had deserted her, but that belief had been disproved when he showed up at the hospital.
"You've given Lucas the opportunity to take advantage, but I think you can still be a winner. I'll help you find yourself—and from there, everything else will follow," Dr. Le-an spoke with top-notch diction.
"So what would you do?" Kilos Barber asked.
"Come," Le-an said, leading the way out of the class.
The two soon reached a familiar place.
Some level two students were sitting on the seats opposite the ring, concentrating on two fighters.
On arriving, Baxter was busy penning some information and giving guidance. At the time Kilos got there, Baxter was climbing into the ring to make some corrections, so he joined the students.
"Hey Tega, don't summon anything here—this is just about strength. Let your kick be strong and devastating," Baxter spoke firmly to the student, who appeared to be exhausted.
The other one didn't seem bothered—maybe because he was the champion and had already beaten Tega to a stupor.
"Can you try this again?" Baxter asked, wanting to know if this match should be cut off.
But Tega nodded.
All at once, the bell had hardly rung before the opponent was before him. Just like a weak boxer, he raised his hands in defense against the impending attack—but the attack came from below. He was hit in the abdomen, and the blow forced its way out through his mouth.
Then another punch landed in his stomach, making matters worse. Like a voracious animal, the opponent leaped on him to deliver a jab to his goitre.
"Hamara!" the seated students roared as they rose to their feet.
Everyone knew what Hamara wanted to do. This was a murderous attempt to end Tega's life.
Kilos Barber watched this horrific scene with only one conclusion: this opposition was too strong, and he had no chance at all against Hamara. He felt Tega should have conceded the victory rather than face death.
As for Hamara, his hand stood still, ready to unleash the final blow.
"I'm finishing my job," Hamara declared.
But there were two possible ways out for Tega. He had the right to surrender and would be let off the hook—but that could ruin his career.
The other option: a rescue mission, where someone could step in and fight for Tega. If Hamara lost, the new champion could share his glory with the original fighter.
Kilos Barber, though unaware of some of these rules, stepped into the ring, holding Hamara's hand to stop it from coming down.
"That was the boy who sat beside me," Culex whispered with fear for Kilos. "He's a new student."
The look on Hamara's face was one of disdain and great anger at seeing a level one student enter the same ring as him.
"Hamara, you don't have to kill to be a winner, you understand?" Kilos warned him, waving his fingers in his face.
But then Hamara pushed his hand away and rolled forward with a punch like he did to Tega, aimed at Kilos' stomach. But Kilos was faster—he extended his fist toward Hamara's face. He hit him squarely before Hamara's fist could reach his stomach.
That attack was condescending and disgraceful to the year two champion. Hamara adjusted his feet, now faintly aware of the kind of opponent he was dealing with. He charged forward, both climbing and kicking toward the ropes. Kilos had to keep him in check until he tired.
"Enough!" Baxter finally announced.
Though it was hard to decide the winner, the year two students had their reservations—and some had gained newfound respect for Kilos Barber.
Kilos approached Baxter.
"You put up a good fight. I'm impressed," Baxter openly admitted Kilos' skill.
After everyone had left, it was time to test his strength again.
"He broke his... but his skill's good," Baxter reported to Le-an.
Baxter's facial expression changed when he saw the doctor's reaction.
Kilos keenly observed the punch bag and waited for the call to action.
"Do it now!"
As soon as he heard the command, Kilos let out his tightened fist toward the center of the rigid challenge. Baxter concentrated on his wrist, while Le-an watched for the effect of the launch.
Like mighty waves, the bag shifted backward and then took on an oscillatory motion for several seconds before coming to a halt. He did it—Kilos had stepped beyond the rest of the boys like Lantern, Gareth, and Yaksa.
Strength 10!
He neither yelled for his wrist nor winced for his fist.
"How did he manage that? Kilos is crazy," Baxter said, awestruck.
---
Before departing from Dr. Le-an, Kilos had feelings he couldn't hide anymore. The true identity he had hidden for so long—though he didn't know how to approach it—had to be disclosed. He contemplated whether she could be of assistance, but trusting Dr. Le-an was important now, especially since she had already shown support.
The explanation was short and straight to the point.
"You belong to the Cataclysmic group... of class Tamer," Le-an spoke, her delivery breathless and her expression dreadful.
The group, though known only to top military personnel, was once the most deadly force in human genealogical history. According to what the doctor had learned, this group was not to be provoked, as the outcome could be catastrophic—leaving a serious, indelible impact on future generations.
The peace the world now enjoyed had been secured because a Cataclysmic group had intervened and stopped the activities of some evil forces that once dominated the earth.
Meeting one of their descendants again in real human form could mean she was before someone with the ability to rule the world—and bring human activity into subjection.
But the fear she had was still what the other leaders feared: they wouldn't want people like this to take charge again.
"Tamer? Cataclysmic?" Kilos repeated, as though hearing those words for the first time and seeking clarification.
Le-an stepped closer to give him a simple response that wouldn't arouse further suspicion:
"You're a great man!"
Surprise rose to his face, but words did not follow.
"I'll help you get back to the warehouse," Le-an assured him with a firm voice.
"How?" Kilos asked with curiosity.
"I have a car," Le-an replied.
He didn't know how that would be possible, considering the warning Lucas had given at the entrance gate. Kilos only kept quiet as he awaited Dr. Le-an's plan.
Kilos headed to his class, and that afternoon he planned to visit the cafeteria for some food. He even thought about going to the library to collect materials related to what had been taught. With all of this, he knew it would be a full day of activity.
Of all these plans, seeing Le-an was paramount.
He reached the entrance and met Lantern Monroo and Fred. Not expecting them to come to his block at that time, he stared at them, waiting for an explanation.
Fred stepped forward, intending to introduce Monroo to Kilos as his captain—but then a hand held him back.
"Don't bother, I know about this," Monroo snapped at Fred.
The laughter on Fred's face disappeared at once.
"Old friend, I heard you've shone lately," Monroo said rudely, "but I have something better."
The attitude of Lantern Monroo was surely meant to hurl insults and showcase his own prowess.
From the door, students watched what was happening but didn't utter a word in support of their captain. Perhaps they were afraid of Monroo—or perhaps they believed this was a matter to be settled between the two leaders.