After finishing off the last man, Alan wiped the sole of his shoe on the ground with a look of clear disdain.
Then, as if mocking, he crooked a finger toward Eisen, the gesture full of derision.
Eisen froze in place.
It wasn't just him—everyone present, from the onlookers who had come for the spectacle to the reinforcements from Lioncrest Academy, all stood rooted in place, stunned.
With a mere flick of the hand, Alan had killed someone—effortlessly, cleanly.
To Alan, were the people of Lioncrest Academy nothing more than weeds? Ants?
Whatever the answer, one thing had become obvious to everyone. Alan held absolutely no regard for the name Lioncrest Academy.
What he had done just now could be summed up in four words:
Slicing melons, chopping vegetables.
"…Already scared?"
Alan sneered and said coldly to Eisen, "If you're not going to attack me, I'll start attacking you."
