Chapter 18: Police Siren

Chapter 18: Police Siren

Liam Johnson, despite being a second-degree senior black belt at the Vanguard Martial Arts Academy, didn't dare get tangled up with law enforcement. A street brawl with high school students would instantly destroy his athletic standing, strip him of his belt, and get him expelled from the academy.

Before the police could even arrive, he dragged Ethan away and fled the alleyway in total humiliation.

"Big Sis, are you okay?"

I hurried over to check on Sierra. If those bastards had laid a single finger on her, I would have dismantled them piece by piece, police or no police.

Sierra was still visibly shaken. Her hand rested over her pounding chest, making her look far softer and more vulnerable than her usual sharp, confident self.

"I'm fine," she murmured, taking a long, shaky breath before leaning her head against my shoulder. "Zach... that was way too dangerous. Promise me you won't take reckless risks like that for me again, okay?"

Hearing her soft voice warmed something deep in my chest, and a grin broke across my face. "Come on, Sis. Look at me—I'm built different now. Besides, you're my sister. I'd go through hell and high water for you."

Sierra rolled her eyes, though a faint blush dusted her cheeks. "You always know how to sweet-talk people. Did you drop lines like that on Chloe too?"

"Sis! Come on," I said, putting on my most innocent expression. "She's just my classmate!"

"Right, right. 'Just a classmate,'" Sierra smirked teasingly.

Just then, the wail of a police siren grew louder, echoing down the alley. I braced myself to give a full report to the officers, but what burst around the corner left both Sierra and me completely dumbfounded...

It wasn't a police cruiser.

It was a three-hundred-pound mountain of muscle and football padding!

"Big Sis Sierra! Hold on, I'm here!" Big Greg roared, charging into the alley.

Before even checking his surroundings, he executed a wildly dramatic Divine Dragon Sweep—a ridiculous, over-the-top spinning leg whip that ended with him almost tripping over his own boots.

When he finally regained his balance and saw Sierra and me standing there alone in the empty alley, he froze dead in his tracks.

Sierra and I just stared at him in deadpan silence.

Man, since when did three-hundred-pound linemen start executing Divine Dragon Sweeps?

And then it clicked. No wonder the police cruiser hadn't pulled up despite the siren blaring for the last two minutes—the noise was coming straight from a plastic megaphoned loudspeaker clutched in Greg's massive hand...

It turned out Greg had spotted Ethan’s gang lurking around Bellevue High's gates right after the final bell. Knowing he couldn't take on an entire gang alone, he rushed to a nearby dollar store, bought a megaphone, and blared a recorded police siren to spook Ethan and Liam away.

Even though Greg hadn't actually ended up fighting, I was genuinely touched by his loyalty.

"Big Bro Zach, as long as I'm around at Bellevue, nobody's touching Big Sis Sierra!" Greg slammed a heavy fist against his chest, making a loud thump.

I nodded approvingly. At over three hundred pounds, there weren't many high schoolers in the city who could move him unless they knew kinetic momentum redirection.

After saying goodbye to Greg, I walked Sierra back home. Naturally, neither of us said a word to our parents about the alleyway brawl.

If Mom—Victoria "Thunder" Carter—found out I'd been street fighting outside a high school, she'd skin me alive.

Even with fifty percent Aurelian Defensive Kata, I wasn't suicidal enough to take on my mom. Resist? The wooden feather duster of doom was waiting for anyone who dared talk back.

The next day was a review day, Sierra didn't have classes, so she stayed home to study with me. With the National Entrance Exam only months away, every single weekend counted.

Except I wasn't the slacker I used to be.

I spread out Chloe Prescott's leather-bound study guide across my desk and started working through the advanced prep material line by line. Chloe was bound for a top Ivy-league equivalent university. If I ever wanted to stand beside her as an equal, I couldn't be sitting in some bottom-tier community college, could I?

Sierra was stunned to see me buried in textbooks, but my parents were downright shocked.

Dad walked over, felt my forehead, and frowned in genuine concern. "Zach... son, are you feeling okay? No fever?"

Mom's explosive temper flared instantly. "What's that supposed to mean, David? Our son wants to study hard for the NEE and you think he's sick? You're the one who's sick! Go manage the convenience store!"

Dad, long accustomed to Mom's fiery personality, gave an apologetic grin and backed away. "Right, right! Keep up the good work, Zach. If you get stuck on anything, ask your sister!"

I smiled and nodded. With fifty percent of Chloe's Intermediate Learning Ability active, standard practice problems weren't even a challenge anymore.

It turns out confidence and academic drive are directly linked to cognitive ability. When you look at a practice exam and the formulas look like ancient hieroglyphics, staying motivated is impossible. That was my whole high school experience before awakening the Muse System.

But now?

Cracking a complex calculus proof felt like winning a round in an addicting strategy game. The second I solved one high-difficulty problem, a rush of dopamine hit, and I immediately wanted to tackle the next.

I spent the entire afternoon completely absorbed in Chloe's prep guides.

Sierra was an incredible tutor whenever I hit a tricky edge case. But after two hours of nonstop studying, I stretched my arms and glanced up—only to find Sierra resting her chin on her palm, staring at my face in a total daze.

"Sis? Hey, Sierra?" I called out, waving a hand in front of her.

"Sis! Is there something on my face?"

"Ah! What?" Sierra snapped back to reality, her face instantly flushing bright crimson. She hurriedly buried her nose back into her prep textbook.

Except ten minutes later, she hadn't turned a single page.

The air in the room grew thick with a quiet, charged tension.