CHAPTER 37: EX 37. POWER IS POWER

Because there, he met the nobles.

Children younger than him, faster, stronger, sharper, more gifted in ways he couldn’t comprehend.

Their talents weren’t just a notch above his—they were mountains higher. While Gordon had spent years being the best in his small pond, these nobles were born in oceans of power, and they swam like it was second nature.

Every spar, every class, every evaluation—he came out worse, slower, weaker.

His grand delusions?

Reduced to ash.

And instead of working harder, instead of sharpening himself to rise to their level...

He succumbed.

Jealousy dug into his bones. Bitterness became his closest friend.

He stopped trying.

And it showed.

By the end of the year, he’d received one of the lowest rankings in the training center.

The very same people he had once looked down on passed him without even a backward glance. He had to repeat the year—a humiliation that nearly broke him.

And when he finally did graduate, he was slapped with a Tier II difficulty trial, a rank that permanently destroyed any hope he had of climbing to glory.

The nobles had crushed his dreams without even trying.

And in his mind, that meant only one thing:

They didn’t deserve what they had.

So when the report came in—a noble had supposedly tackled a trial far above their designated difficulty—he felt ecstatic.

He didn’t care that the report was full of holes.

He didn’t care that the evidence was shaky at best.

He just wanted to take one down. To watch one of them fall, just like he had.

And Leon Kael?

He was the perfect target.

Gordon hadn’t even attempted to ask questions or follow proper procedure.

All he wanted was to torment the boy.

But it hadn’t gone as planned.

Leon didn’t flinch.

Didn’t yield.

Didn’t even blink under pressure.

Instead, he’d turned the room upside down with just a stare. And now, Gordon was being interrupted by some ridiculous call in the middle of his "interrogation."

Irritated, he snatched the receiver and barked:

" Who the hell is this?"

But no answer came.

It was not static neither was it a disconnection. It was just... silence.

Yet from that silence came a crushing weight—an invisible pressure that wrapped around his chest, pressing against his lungs, thickening the air.

His breathing grew ragged. His knees threatened to bend.

There was nothing on the line. Nothing but quiet.

But Gordon felt it.

As if gravity itself had turned against him. His thoughts screamed that it was in his mind, but his body didn’t believe it.

His fingers trembled.

Then—

A voice. A woman’s voice. Cold. Measured and unshakably calm spoke.

"You have five minutes to let my son go."

That was all. As the call cut off.

The pressure vanished instantly, as if it had never existed. The air returned to normal, yet Gordon stood frozen in place, the phone still pressed to his ear like a lifeline.

That voice belonged to no other person than Leon’s mother Selena Kael.

When news reached the Kael household that Leon had been arrested, Selena nearly stormed the base herself—ready to tear it down stone by stone and bury anyone who dared lay a hand on her son.

It took everything Darian had to calm her. Only after his intervention did she rein in her fury, choosing to act with cold precision instead.

Selena Kael hadn’t yelled. She hadn’t threatened. She’d simply spoken—and in that voice was the quiet promise of obliteration.

But instead of trembling... Gordon snapped.

He threw the phone to the floor, smashing it into pieces.

"Do you think I’m scared of you just because you’re a noble?!" he roared into the empty room.

"You think you can oppress me? I have the Federation behind me! You’re just one family—ONE FAMILY! Let’s see who comes out on top!"

Spittle flew. Veins bulged in his forehead. But beneath the fury, a flicker of reason sparked:

’What if the report was wrong? What if Leon hadn’t increased the trial difficulty?’

The thought chilled him—but he smothered it with rage. He had to.

He paced, hands clenched. The pressure of Leon’s presence behind him only made the cracks in his sanity worse.

And then...

He said it.

A muttered curse—vile and venomous, meant to claw back control.

"She’s just a bitch."

The moment the words left his mouth—

Gordon’s world broke.

He couldn’t even register what happened. A pain so sudden and absolute consumed him. Like a thousand invisible blades had carved into his body all at once. Each cut too fast to react to, each one deeper than the last.

When he came to, he was against the wall, drenched in sweat, chest heaving, body trembling like a man just resurrected from death. His vision was blurred. Blood dripped from his nose. His legs refused to move.

And standing where he’d once been sitting was Leon.

Unmoved. Unblinking.

His voice, when he spoke, was colder than death itself.

"Now you owe me more than an arm."

Gordon’s instincts screamed.

’Run you have to escape now.’

Every cell in his body begged him to get away—because if he stayed, he might not leave alive.

As he was contemplating what to do the door suddenly opened.

As an old man stepped inside.

Gordon’s eyes widened in disbelief.

It was the Black Vanguard of the base.

His superior.

But it wasn’t the Vanguard’s appearance that stunned him.

It was his demeanor.

He stood aside, respectfully—almost nervously—as he let the young lady behind him enter.

The young lady was no older than twenty, maybe younger.

Her hair was as black as obsidian. Eyes a rich, molten amber. A quiet, confident smile played at her lips as she strode forward.

Nikko Yakomoto.

Daughter of the Governor and bearer of a Supreme Talent.

And as she passed the Vanguard, she didn’t even acknowledge him.

Nikko’s eyes locked onto Leon’s.

As a genuine smile bloomed on her face.

But before she said a word—

A crushing pressure slammed into Gordon, pinning him against the wall like a rag doll. His ribs cracked. Blood spilled from his mouth.

His scream was lost in the weight.

No one moved to help him.

Not the soldiers.

Not the Vanguard.

Because no one—no one—got in the way when Nikko Yakomoto acted.

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A/N: Finally a supreme talent bearer has appeared let’s go!!!.

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