Chapter 32 Unyielding

Chapter 32 Unyielding
Dion Faust practically jumped out of his skin.
Standing at 5'7", sandwiched between two furious guys over six feet tall, Dion suddenly felt incredibly small, fragile, and helpless.
Forget Ryan Acker—even Dion, a complete bystander, was instantly triggered by Warren Gale's sheer audacity. The guy had walked right up to them, demanding answers with a tone of absolute, mocking entitlement.
Who the hell do you think you are?! Do we need to submit a formal application to you first?!
A bomb went off in Ryan Acker’s brain. His fists clenched tight, his face turning an ugly shade of iron-gray.
Dion moved fast, throwing his skinny arms out in a desperate attempt to use his own body as a human shield to hold Ryan back. At the same time, he turned and yelled at Warren, "Don't think we're afraid to kick your ass!"
"Explain yourselves." Warren stood with his back to the streetlamp. The heavy shadows made it impossible to read his expression. His voice held no trace of provocation—only a tightly suppressed shock, laced with a very faint, almost imperceptible edge of urgency. "What do you mean, 'win her back'?"
Ryan's vision went black with pure rage.
No man on earth could tolerate his rival throwing that level of arrogant, dismissive disrespect right in his face. He's treating me like I'm already a corpse!
Ryan violently shoved Dion aside. Anger gave him superhuman strength; Dion went flying, and if one of his friends hadn't caught him, he would have ended up flat on his back on the pavement.
Free from Dion's restraint, Ryan lunged forward, viciously grabbing the collar of Warren's jacket.
Whenever it actually mattered, Ryan always choked. He had accidentally found out from an old middle school friend that a guy named Warren in Julie's class was pursuing her relentlessly, and that the two of them were basically officially together. For weeks, Ryan had been cursing Warren's name three hundred times a day, with a vocabulary toxic enough to melt steel.
But now, standing face-to-face with Warren Gale, Ryan couldn't form a single coherent sentence.
He was just too angry. Angry enough to die. Angry enough to lose his ability to speak. He knew if he opened his mouth, he would just stutter.
So he let his fists do the talking.
Warren had absolutely no idea why Ryan Acker was so furious. But honestly, Warren's life hadn't exactly been easy lately either. His own internal questions were completely unanswered, and a dark, heavy frustration had been building inside him for weeks.
So, when Ryan's fist flew toward his face, Warren didn't even think about dodging. He didn't even try to back down.
Dodge what?
If you want to fight, let's fight.
Dion finally regained his balance. He looked over and realized both of them had completely skipped the "verbal intimidation" phase and gone straight to throwing punches. The world spun.
The annoying friend next to him kept muttering, "W-why are they fighting?! Bro, do we jump in? When do we go? Are we going?!"
"Go where?! Are you trying to dig your own grave?!" Dion roared.
It wasn't incredibly late, and occasionally a pedestrian would walk past the alley. Dion's head was throbbing. He was furious at Ryan's impulsiveness, and equally furious at Warren's sheer arrogance. The situation had completely derailed from his carefully crafted plan.
He squinted into the dark. Both guys seemed to be fighting with genuine, blinding rage, meaning neither of them was clearly winning.

A few minutes later, Dion finally ordered his friends to rush in and physically rip the two of them apart. Both boys looked rough. They were teenagers fueled by pure adrenaline; neither of them had held back.
"Hey, man." Dion shot his friends a look that explicitly meant Do not let Ryan move, while keeping his eyes locked onto Warren Gale. "Let's be reasonable here. My brother and Julie Carven had a great thing going. They even made plans to travel together after the college entrance exams. Then, suddenly, she just cuts him off completely. We just came here tonight to find out what's going on. That's not unreasonable, right?"
Warren was taking slow, deep breaths, calming his racing heart. Hearing Dion's words, he looked up, his dark eyes locking onto Dion. "So you're saying they have nothing to do with each other anymore."
Even Dion frowned in confusion.
What the hell did that mean? It sounded like a question, but his tone was so calm and stating it as an absolute fact that it left Dion completely disoriented.
"Then there's nothing left to discuss." Warren took a step back, casually straightening his jacket. His tone shifted entirely, becoming frigid, distant, and completely dismissive. He looked at them as if they were trash on the sidewalk. "I'm leaving. Do not follow me. If there is a next time, I'm calling the cops."
Without waiting for a response, he turned his back on them and walked away, his face entirely devoid of emotion.
Not a single person made a sound. Nobody stepped forward to block his path. The group of boys just stood there, staring at each other in absolute bewilderment.
Wait a second.
Who was threatening who tonight?!
Why does it feel like the roles just got completely reversed?!
—
Julie's Saturday tutoring class was a brutal two-hour block. They got a ten-minute break in the middle to grab water and use the restroom.
From 7:00 to 9:10 PM, she took meticulous notes. She actually felt her understanding of the concepts sharpening. She even felt a pang of regret—if she had signed up for this class in her past life, she definitely would have scored higher on the Gaokao and gotten into a better university.
When class ended, she wasn't in a rush to leave. She popped the lid on her thermos, letting the straw flip up.
She took a slow sip of warm water while pulling out her phone. Her dad was supposed to pick her up, but he had received a last-minute call from his agency about some emergency meeting. Luckily, the center wasn't far from her apartment. A bus, subway, or cab were all easy options.
Out of habit, she opened her messaging app. She scrolled through her recent chats and stopped cold when she saw a message from "Amelia Timber."
Ryan Acker was a social butterfly. During the few times she had hung out with his group, she had met this girl. They had casually added each other on social media. Amelia was the only girl in Ryan's core friend group, and she was always glued to the side of one of Ryan's best friends. They loved singing cheesy duets at the karaoke bar. In her past life, Julie had seen Amelia’s wedding photos on her feed, proving they had actually stayed together for a decade.
Amelia Timber: \[Julie, I’ve been debating this all day, but I feel like I have to secretly warn you. I heard this from Bill Kirke. He said that tonight, Ryan and the guys are going to go jump your boyfriend to teach him a lesson. I tried to talk them out of it, but they wouldn't listen. I'm so sorry!!\]
Julie stared at the message, utterly bewildered.
If Amelia hadn't explicitly used her name, Julie would have assumed she sent this to the wrong person.
She understood every individual word, but the sentence itself made absolutely zero sense.
But one thing was undeniably clear: Ryan Acker was causing a massive disaster.
Her eyelid twitched violently. Her fingers flew across the keyboard: \[...My boyfriend? Who?!\]
When exactly did I get a boyfriend, and why am I the last person to know?!
Amelia replied instantly: \[Isn't it that guy Warren from your class? What's his last name? Gale? G-something? Whatever, that guy!\]
Julie: "?"
Oh my god.
She choked on her water, violently coughing and gasping for air. Once she finally stopped coughing up a lung, she desperately typed back: \[Have they already left?! Do you know where they are?!\]
The absolute priority right now was not dissecting the origin of this completely psychotic rumor. The priority was that another innocent person had been dragged into the crossfire. She just prayed she had enough time to intercept this chaotic melodrama before she had to personally cave Ryan Acker’s skull in.
Amelia Timber: \[Bill refused to tell me exactly where. But my guess is either near your school, or near your boyfriend's house.\]
Knowing Ryan Acker’s absolute lack of courage, Julie severely doubted they would dare pull a stunt like this anywhere near the high school campus.
She frantically shoved her textbooks and pencil case into her backpack. She quickly shot Amelia a text thanking her, along with a furious, concise correction of the facts: \[He is NOT my boyfriend, and I don't have a boyfriend! I am going to find out exactly who started this rumor.\]
She really wanted to see which brain-dead idiot had a death wish.

Stepping out of the tutoring center, Julie stood under the streetlamp, furiously scrolling through her contacts. A wave of absolute despair washed over her.
Despite deciding the very second she was reborn that she was going to fiercely brown-nose her future CEO... she still didn't have a single piece of his contact information.
She was speechless. She was lost.
Julie Carven, what exactly is your master plan here?!
If this were an anime, a flock of crows would be flying past her head, cawing in mockery.
In her previous life, before she actually got hired at his firm, the only place they might have potentially crossed paths was the Class 3 WeChat group.
But tragically, that group chat wasn't created until after graduation. It didn't exist yet.
She immediately dialed her best friend, Tania Graf.
The phone connected almost instantly. The second Tania said "Hello," Julie practically shouted, "Tania! I need a massive favor right now! Do you have Warren's phone number?! If you don't, can you beg Gary Blacker for it?!"
Tania was stunned. Hearing the raw panic in Julie's voice, she didn't hesitate. "Okay! I'll ask him right now and text it to you."
Just as Julie reached the main entrance of her apartment complex, her phone buzzed. It was a text from Tania containing eleven digits.
When Warren Gale’s phone rang, he had literally just unlocked his front door. He was standing on the entryway mat, one hand resting on the shoe cabinet, taking his sneakers off. His mother walked out of the hallway, a dry towel wrapped around her wet hair. "Your dad just went down to buy some late-night food. Did you guys miss each other?"
Ding dong, ding dong—
A crisp, melodic ringtone began playing.
"Yeah," Warren answered his mother while simultaneously pulling his phone out of his pocket. Seeing an unknown local number flashing on the screen, he hesitated for a second before answering.
Martha Gale was wandering around the living room looking for the hairdryer. Occasionally, she caught snippets of her son’s voice. He was deliberately keeping it low, but the sound still drifted over.
"Yeah, it's nothing."
"Really, I'm fine."
"Right now? You aren't home yet?"
"...Alright. I'll be right there."
Martha walked back toward the entryway holding the hairdryer. She was surprised to see her son crouching back down, rapidly tying his shoelaces. "What's going on? Are you heading back out?"
Warren kept his head down. He angled his body slightly, making sure his mother couldn't see the angry red scrapes across his knuckles. "A classmate needs my help with something. I'm going out for a bit. I won't be too late..." He paused, his voice faltering slightly. "Actually, I'm not exactly sure how long it'll take."
Martha trusted her son completely, but she still offered a motherly warning. "Don't stay out playing around too late. Get some rest."
Warren gave a low hum of agreement. The second his shoes were tied, he moved toward the door with such intense urgency that he completely forgot the apartment keys he had just tossed onto the shoe cabinet.
Martha’s sharp eyes caught it. "Keys! Your keys!"
Warren had already crossed the threshold. He immediately spun back around, snatching the keys off the cabinet in a frantic, uncoordinated motion. Seeing him this frantic made Martha look at him with deep suspicion. "What could possibly be so urgent?"
"Mom, I'm leaving." Warren didn't even attempt to answer her question. It looked like he was racing a ticking clock, absolutely terrified of making someone wait a single second longer.
He shoved the keys into his pocket and practically sprinted down the hall to the elevator.
He frantically smashed the call button.
A moment later, the mechanical gears whirred, and the metal doors slowly slid open.
Without even waiting to see who was inside, Warren launched himself forward.
Dr. Gale felt a sudden, violent gust of wind rip past his face. By the time he turned around, all he saw was the blurry silhouette of his own son vanishing into the elevator. Dr. Gale stood there, utterly bewildered. "..."