Chapter 339 79.1 - Commotion
[You just need to do what you always did.]
Emma's gaze hardened as she studied the photo more closely, her eyes narrowing at the sight of Jane--Mia to some--who sat laughing, seemingly carefree with a boy across from her at a small diner.
'It is him!'
The boy was none other than the very one who had stepped in last time when Emma had gotten overly aggressive with Jane.
That boy had become a thorn in her side, his defiance an irritation. Thus, she had taught him a lesson. She still remembered how she had stepped on him; it was truly an ethereal feeling. Being in power in such situations was really something addicting, after all.
'Heh, this is why I hate such bigots. They can't ascertain the type of girls that would be fit for them.'
Then, another realization stung. Jane, who had been keeping a low profile in class, wasn't actually stepping back as Emma had thought. Instead, she was redirecting her social energies, possibly growing closer to that guy, something Emma couldn't tolerate.
'You bitch....Now that you have learned your lesson, you are trying to entice other guys, huh? Do you think you can do as you please, away from my eyes? After being a whore before, now you are trying to spread your legs to others?'
Her jealousy and anger flared anew, fueled by the image before her and the coercive nudge from her anonymous blackmailer.
Her hands trembled slightly as she typed a response. [What exactly do you want me to do?] Emma's mind raced, already dreading the answer she might receive but knowing full well that her options were limited.
She was caught in a web of her own past actions, each thread pulling tighter around her with every passing second.
The reply came quickly, chilling in its brevity. [Ensure the time they are spending now is messed up. Scare them enough to avoid each other. You know how. Also, make sure that the results are satisfying. You don't have much time.]
Emma's thoughts swirled with a mix of resentment and begrudging understanding as she pieced together the intentions behind the anonymous demand. "They must be jealous... Want to see them fall apart," she muttered under her breath, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips.
It wasn't uncommon in her social circles to sabotage others out of envy or spite, and in a twisted way, she felt a connection to the mysterious figure pulling her strings.Thi/s chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.co/m
'Whoever are those bastards, they are definitely familiar to me. But, I doubt that they want Jane...Well, if they want her to resort to such methods, then it will not be good for her at all. After all, they didn't even help her when she was in need.'
If disrupting Jane and the guy's burgeoning relationship was the goal, then it was a task Emma found distastefully familiar but entirely within her wheelhouse.
Though she hadn't noticed it, she was already addressing the blackmailers as "them" since the message mostly contained "we." And, since the picture came, it meant that the blackmailer was directly related to that time, being a possible witness, yet they just watched.
With a renewed sense of purpose, albeit marred by the coercion hanging over her, Emma picked up her phone and began sending out messages to her gang. "Meeting, 20 minutes, usual spot," she texted, her fingers moving swiftly over the screen.
As her plans began to take shape, her demeanor hardened; the earlier unease at being manipulated transitioned into a cold determination to execute the task effectively and regain some semblance of control over her situation.
As her friends confirmed one by one, Emma outlined her strategy. They would need to be subtle yet impactful, instilling just enough fear and discomfort to drive a wedge between Jane and Ethan without drawing undue attention to themselves. Emma knew the balance well; it was a game she had played too many times before.
Her heart sank as her eyes met Emma's—the leader of the pack and her most fervent tormentor. The smile that curled Emma's lips was nothing short of sinister, and it sent a cold shiver down Jane's spine, marring the perfect afternoon.Top of Form
Jane's reaction did not go unnoticed by Ethan, whose attentive eyes picked up on her sudden shift. His expression turned from one of contentment to concern in an instant. "What is the matter?" he asked gently, following her gaze to the disturbing assembly.
Before Jane could muster an explanation, or perhaps a dismissal to ease Ethan's worry, a voice sliced through the buzz of café chatter; it was loud, brash, and unmistakably Emma's.
"Look what we have here, the lovebirds!" Emma called out, her voice dripping with mock affection and scorn. She strode towards their table, her gang trailing behind like shadows echoing her every step.
Ethan turned to face the oncoming group, his expression hardening as he took in the situation. He might have been described by Jane as somewhat airheaded and innocent, but there was a palpable shift in his demeanor now—a protective edge that seemed to surface naturally in response to the threat.
After all, he had once been subjected to this senior's attitude. He still remembered the memories of that time when he had been stepped on and beaten without much effort. Though, at that time, he faced them as a group, Ethan was very well aware that he wouldn't be able to beat them even if they weren't a group.
Emma stopped just short of their table, her smirk broadening as she sized up the scene. "Enjoying a little date, are we?" she sneered, her eyes flicking between Jane and Ethan. "Must be nice, living in your little bubble. Let me guess, planning your future together? Or just pretending things are normal for a change?"
Jane felt her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and anger. She wanted to retort, to defend their moment of peace, but the words stuck in her throat.
'I can't....' After all, Emma knew about those times somehow.
It was Ethan who spoke, his voice 'calm' yet firm. "Is there a reason you're interrupting us, Senior?" he asked, standing his ground against her invasive presence. Of course, there was a wave of anger rising inside him, as no matter how good he was, even he wouldn't be able to forgive those who tormented the person he adored.
Emma's response to Ethan's query was laced with condescension. "I'm just doing someone a favor by showing him what kind of girl he's getting involved with." She turned her attention to Jane, her tone dripping with mockery. "Isn't that right, ~Mia?"
At the mention of 'Mia,' Jane recoiled as if struck, her expression crumbling into one of distress. The use of the name, one tied to painful memories and a past Emma had exploited for her own gain, visibly shook her. She hunched over slightly, unable to meet anyone's gaze, her body trembling lightly in her seat.
Ethan's patience snapped. He'd had enough of the veiled threats and the overt bullying. "That's enough," he said sharply, his voice rising a bit with a protective fervor. "It's none of your business what kind of person is Jane to me. You should mind your own affairs."
Emma scoffed, casting a disdainful glance at Ethan. "People like you just don't get it, do—" she started, but was cut off as one of her gang members 'accidentally' stumbled, sending a splash of her cold drink cascading over Jane's head. "Oops, my bad," the girl snickered, not bothering to hide her amusement.
The sight of Jane, drenched and humiliated, was the last straw for Ethan. His features twisted in anger as he reached out, his intention clear—to confront Emma directly. But before his hand could meet her arm, another hand clamped down on his wrist, stopping him mid-motion.
A boy from Emma's group, larger and clearly older, stepped forward, his grip iron-tight on Ethan's arm. "What do you think you're doing, attacking a senior with mana?" he hissed, his voice low and threatening.
Ethan tried to pull free, his voice tense as he argued, "I didn't
—"
He was cut off by a swift punch to the face from the boy, which sent him staggering back onto the table, his cheek reddening instantly from the impact. The café, until now buzzing with subdued whispers and curious glances, fell into a shocked silence at the violence.
Jane, still recovering from the shock and humiliation of the drink, looked up with a mix of fear and desperation. Tears welled in her eyes as she reached out to Ethan, who was now cradling his face, his expression one of pain and confusion.
Around them, the mood had shifted dramatically; what had started as a simple meal had spiraled into a scene of bullying and aggression, leaving both Jane and Ethan vulnerable and publicly shamed.
