novelraw Chapter 237 237: Baddie?
Chapter 237 237: Baddie?
Amy stared at the three sneering faces closing in on her.
Her legs began to turn to jelly, her knees knocking together in an instinctive
rhythm of terror. She wanted to bolt. She wanted to dive back into the safety of
the sewers, run to that familiar junction, and crouch in the dark until the
world went away.
But her feet remained anchored to the dirt.
The three boys had already taken their positions—a perfect fan formation,
sealing every tactical retreat.
"Hey, Slime-Girl," Thomas drawled, baring a row of teeth that were still in the
process of adult transition. "Looks like no one is coming to save you today."
Jack chimed in, his tone dripping with the petty satisfaction of revenge. "That
monster woman was definitely hauled off by the Punishment Legion!"
"Yeah! A 'Most Wanted' freak! A baddie! She belongs in a cage!" Colin roared,
lunging forward to snatch the reed basket from Amy's hands.
His movement was crude and violent. He slammed the basket onto the stones and
delivered a heavy kick to its side.
Crash.
The entire harvest of kitchen scraps spilled out. Wilted leaves, bread crusts,
and fruit rinds mixed with the muddy sludge of the street. Amy stared at the
ruin.
Those were the scraps she had spent hours collecting, door-to-door, paying for
every handful with a practiced smile. That was the slimes' dinner. That was her
family's medicine.
"Hahahaha! Look at that stupid face!" Thomas barked. He lifted his boot and
ground it into a relatively intact piece of bread. The crumbs vanished into the
tread of his shoe.
Jack and Colin followed his lead, stomping rhythmically, their soles churning
the waste into the mud.
"Slime-Girl! Slime-Girl!" "Where's your monster bodyguard now?" "Probably
purified into ash by the Skeleton Uncles!" "Serves her right! That's what
happens to Baddies!"
Amy sank into a crouch, her fingers reaching for a piece of salvageable food.
But Thomas shoved her hard.
"Don't touch it!"
Amy tumbled back, her palms scraping against the jagged stones until beads of
crimson began to seep through the grime.
"Tattletale." "Smelly little sewer-rat." "You belong in the filth forever!"
Amy bit her lip so hard she tasted copper. Her eyes burned with a localized
heat, but the tears did not fall. She remembered the voice from the shadows.
Tears only serve to advertise your weakness.
"Why aren't you crying?" Thomas knelt, poking Amy's forehead with a dirty
finger. "Cry! Go on! Wail like you did last time!"
Jack leaned in, his voice a mocking hiss. "Yeah, I thought crying was your only
talent."
Colin grabbed a handful of mud-soaked cabbage leaves, a cruel glint in his eye.
"You need help getting started? I'll help you."
He raised his hand, preparing to pelt her.
But in that micro-second, Amy whispered.
"Big Sister Lia..."
The sound was so faint it was nearly swallowed by the wind. The boys paused,
their laughter faltering.
"What did you say, rat?"
Amy lifted her head. Her face was a mask of mud and scratches. But her eyes...
they were glowing with a terrifying, piercing clarity.
"Big Sister Lia..." She spoke again, her voice steady, each syllable a focused
strike. "...is not a Baddie."
Thomas let out a harsh, jagged laugh. "She's a fugitive! The Legion is hunting
her as we speak!"
"She is not a Baddie," Amy repeated, her volume rising. "She saved me. She
instructed me. She is my friend."
Jack rolled his eyes, dismissing the logic. "A friend? With a通緝犯 (Most Wanted)?
You've finally lost your marbles, Slime-Girl."
Colin joined the chorus of jeers. "I knew she was an idiot! A stupid girl who
makes friends with monsters!"
Their laughter swelled, echoing through the alley. But Amy said nothing more.
She pressed her palms into the earth and slowly, measuredly, pushed herself to a
stand. Her legs still trembled, but they supported her weight.
"Oh? You're actually standing up?" Thomas raised an eyebrow, his tone playful.
"What's the plan, Slime-Girl? You going to bite me?"
Amy didn't answer. Her mind replayed the data points of the last few days: the
flickering amber light of the lantern, the sound of undulating gelatin, the
unreadable face of the silver-haired wraith, and the back that had blocked the
world's malice for her.
Stand up. Under no circumstances are you to let your enemy leave your sight.
Amy took a deep, steadying breath. And then, she took the stance.
Left palm forward, held before her chest. Right hand coiled into a fist at her
waist. Feet apart. Center of gravity lowered.
The boys stared for a heartbeat, then erupted into a roar of mockery.
"Hahahaha!" "Look at her!" "The Slime-Girl thinks she's a Knight!" "The
Slime-Uprising has begun!"
Thomas laughed so hard he had to lean on his knees. "Who do you think you are? A
Grandmaster from the Evernight Academy?"
Jack wiped a tear from his eye. "This is gold! Simply gold!"
But Amy didn't drop her hands. She stood like a stone, staring into their eyes
with a flat, clinical focus.
The laughter began to taper off. The boys realized that the look in Amy's eyes
had undergone a structural shift. The cowardice was gone. In its place was a
quiet, unsettling determination.
"Tch," Thomas spat. "Enough posing."
"Colin, handle her."
The heavy-set boy, Colin, scratched his head. "Me?"
"Yeah, you," Thomas shoved him forward. "She's a girl, for the Gods' sake. Are
you afraid of a girl?"
Colin swallowed hard, his confidence wavering. "Fine... I'm going in."
He waddled toward Amy, his arms extended to deliver the usual shove that would
send her back into the dirt. But this time, Amy didn't flinch.
She anchored her center. Her feet "rooted" into the earth, her knees slightly
flexed.
Just like Big Sister taught me.
Colin's hands slammed into her shoulders. Amy's frame swayed, but her boots
didn't budge.
"What?" Colin gasped. He put more weight into it, delivering a second, harder
shove.
Amy gritted her teeth. Her feet skidded a fraction, but she remained upright.
"Dammit!" Colin snarled, his face reddening with embarrassment. He lunged for a
third attempt, pouring everything into his momentum.
That was the "flaw."
Amy moved.
Her right fist exploded from her waist. Her hips pivoted, the force flowing from
her heels through her core.
BANG.
Her fist connected squarely with Colin's soft stomach. The boy's eyes went wide,
his mouth popping open in a silent, jagged gasp. He let out a strange, wheezing
groan before clutching his midsection and sinking to his knees.
"Colin!"
Thomas and Jack charged simultaneously. Amy didn't retreat; she reset her
stance, her eyes tracking both targets.
"Together!" Thomas bellowed.
They lunged from either side. Amy performed a small, tactical hop, evading
Thomas's swing. But she couldn't clear Jack's shove. The impact sent her
stumbling back several paces.
The opening was wide. Thomas seized it, delivering a heavy punch to Amy's
shoulder.
Agony flared. It was sharp, searing. But Amy didn't break. She gritted her
teeth, spun on her leading foot, and threw a straight punch aimed directly at
Thomas's face.
The boy's eyes flared with shock; he barely managed to twist aside, the blow
grazing his ear. Before Amy could follow up, Jack lunged from behind, wrapping
his arms around her waist in a desperate grapple.
"Thomas! Now! Get her!"
Thomas reset himself, his face a mask of rage. He lunged in with a flurry of
"Wild-Boar" swings, a chaotic barrage of strikes. One heavy fist slammed into
Amy's gut.
Amy's internal "damage sensor" triggered. She let out a muffled grunt, her
breath stalling for a micro-second.
But the fight wasn't over. She forced a surge of power through her torso,
performing a violent twist that threw Jack off-balance. Sensing the "flaw," she
didn't hesitate. She drove her elbow back with a focused, "Bee-Sting" strike
into Jack's solar plexus.
The air left Jack in a pained shriek. His grip loosened, and he fell away.
Just then, Colin managed to recover. He scrambled up, his face a vivid, angry
red. He re-entered the engagement with a classic villain's monologue.
"You're dead meat!"
The three closed in again. Fists, shoves, and pulling hair. As the seconds bled
into minutes, Amy's vision began to haze. She took several more strikes to the
face. Warm blood began to trickle from her nose, and her lip was split.
But she didn't fall.
Again and again, she was pushed down, only to scramble back up.
The three boys began to feel a creeping, cold dread. They realized that Amy's
eyes hadn't changed once since the start of the brawl. No fear. No weeping. Just
an expressionless, machine-like persistence.
"What is wrong with her...?" Thomas panted, wiping blood from his own lip. "Why
won't she stay down?"
Jack, whose face was a map of bruises, began to tremble. "I don't know! She's
muttering about 'Bonds' and 'Friendship' like some novel protagonist! We're
being farmed like low-tier mobs!"
Colin, clutching his stomach, remained silent, his "Damage Taken" frequency
currently leading the group.
Thomas refused to accept the reality. He gritted his teeth and lunged for a
final strike. "AGAIN!"
But Amy had already analyzed the data of his movements. The moment he swung, she
dropped into a low crouch. As his fist whistled over her head, she surged
upward, driving an uppercut into Thomas's jaw.
SNAP.
Thomas's head snapped back. He hit the dirt, his internal "Mana" completely
burned out.
Jack and Colin stared at their downed leader. The fear in their eyes was now
absolute. This was Jack's first encounter with the "Bonded-Mode" Slime-Girl.
"RUN! SHE'S POSSESSED!" he shrieked.
Thomas, currently contemplating his life choices on the ground, scrambled up and
bolted without a second's delay. Colin followed suit, his retreat a frantic,
wobbling sprint.
Amy didn't stop.
She opened her stride and gave chase.
Nosebleed dripping down her chin. Face a mosaic of purple and blue bruises. But
her pace was accelerating. She didn't shout; she didn't scream. The silence of
her pursuit was more terrifying than any war-cry.
The three boys, nearing a total system collapse under the pressure, began to
wail as they ran.
"HELP!" "SHE'S TRYING TO KILL US!" "SKELETON UNCLES, SAVE US!"
At that moment, a Punishment Legion patrol preparing for a shift change rounded
the corner. They turned to witness a surreal tableau:
A bloody, bruised little girl, chasing three equally bruised, hysterical boys
down the thoroughfare in total silence.
Then, the girl accelerated. She launched herself into the air, delivering a
textbook flying kick squarely to Colin's backside.
The boy let out a final shriek before face-planting into the dirt.
A crowd of townspeople swarmed the scene.
"By the Gods!" "What is happening?" "Amy? Is that little Amy Green?" "Why is she
beating those boys?"
Several adults lunged forward, catching Amy and pulling her back. "Stop! Enough!
Amy, stop!"
Amy ceased her movement. She stood in their grip, her breath coming in heavy,
rhythmic heaves. Slowly, she raised her hand and wiped the blood from her nose
with the back of her wrist.
She looked down at the three weeping boys on the ground. A small, cold smile
touched her lips.
"Hmph. Pathetic," she whispered.
The voice was quiet, but in the sudden silence of the street, everyone heard it.
The boys froze. The townspeople stared. Even the Skeleton soldiers felt their
soulfire pulse with a flicker of recognition.
Amy turned her back on them and began the long, limping walk back toward the
sewer entrance. No one moved to stop her. They simply watched the small,
retreating figure, silhouetted against the dying sun.
She looked like a warrior returning from a battlefield.
☆☆☆
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