CHAPTER 43: HELP ME, ARTHUR.

Arthur left the ring without any kind of interaction with the audience or anything. The crowd was still roaring in excitement behind him, but he moved like someone who could hear the noise and not be touched by it—like a calm sea beyond the storm.

People cheered, teammates slapped backs, and phones recorded the moment, but Arthur’s face stayed statuesque.

Ryan watched him go from the arena, heart still hammering as the adrenaline still rushed inside of his veins; his ribs were aching slightly.

Every step Arthur took away from the ring, it felt like a question that Ryan had to follow.

Ryan slowly started following behind Arthur, keeping his steps slow. They slowly entered the hallway, leaving the glowing lights of the arena behind; the rush of the crowd thinned into distant sound. Nobody was bothered by two students walking by; everyone assumed Arthur was just leaving.

That was the thing that made Arthur different than anyone else—he could move through thin noise and make it look irrelevant.

They walked in sheer silence for a moment. Arthur’s shoulders were broad under his hoodie; the cadence of his footsteps was steady and purposeful. Ryan rethought about the question that he wanted to ask Arthur before.

He tried to rehearse it at least three times in his head and then shrugged the practice off. He sounded small and quiet when he opened his mouth.

"Arthur," he said, his voice dry. "About what I wanted to ask you earlier..."

Arthur stopped as he turned his head backwards, looking at Ryan. The motion was quiet but full of attention; when Arthur looked at you, it was like your name suddenly mattered. Ryan’s throat tightened.

"What did you want to ask?" Arthur asked, his voice low and flat—the kind that made each and every word cost less than breath.

Ryan gulped hard; he’d been shaking for a long time, and now the tremor shoved through his words. "Did you... did you know about the West High Crew? The gang?"

Arthur’s jaw tightened for a fraction of a second. He scanned Ryan like he was measuring something that might break. The pause stretched for quite a long time; Ryan’s throat tightened.

"Yes," Arthur said finally, eyes fixated on Ryan, scanning him down.

Ryan tried to dig in deeper for more information regarding this topic, for anything to explain why Arthur sounded so calm when he talked about something that had damn near broken him in the restroom just a little while ago.

"Who told you about them—and how long?"

"Daniel," Ryan answered, his voice feeling clear. "He showed up, and he—he knocked out those guys who were attacking me, and then he told me about the West High’s Crew and told me that you also know about it from before." Ryan hesitated. "They were also—trafficking the drug packets, I guess."

Arthur’s face didn’t move; it was a flat surface that didn’t carry any immediate judgment. For a second Ryan wondered if he’d said nothing at all.

Then Arthur exhaled slowly, and his voice came out. "Stay away from this kind of stuff."

The words landed like a cold hand as Ryan’s chest stiffened a bit. The reflex to back down flickered in—the same kind that had kept him small and invisible from the world.

"No," Ryan said, as he clenched his fists. His voice surprised Arthur a bit with how loud it was. "I can’t; I saw them handling the drugs... I saw it with my own eyes."

Arthur looked at Ryan as his steps froze; for the first time, he heard Ryan say something too loud in front of him.

Arthur’s expressions softened a bit, not with kindness, but with a kind of understanding that came from having seen similar kinds of things like this before.

"So you already got involved with all this," he said, voice low but sharp.

Ryan tried to explain it to him at once—that what happened in the restroom, how he fought with them, and how Daniel came and helped him and revealed the secrets about the Crew and the drugs.

But Arthur didn’t get convinced with any of it; he held his hand up in the air as his voice came out. "I know why you’re fired up, but don’t involve yourself in any of this."

Ryan’s body stiffened, eyes fixated on Arthur as they had a glint of fire buried deep inside of them. "Then help me," Ryan said, his voice weak, trembling. "I want to take them down."

Arthur’s gaze flicked away, away to the sun-sliced parking lot beyond the school gates. "Alone?" he asked.

"No." Ryan shook his head. "Not alone."

Arthur said nothing for a while; he just stood there and looked at Ryan. Ryan could feel the weight of the silence—Ryan felt a drop of sweat drop down his eyebrow; he blinked it away.

Ryan gulped hard, expecting some kind of response from Arthur, but he just stood still, saying nothing.

The system slowly chimed in his mind as a panel materialized in front of his eyes, shimmering with the blue light.

[Sub-Quest Unlocked: Form your crew. Objective 1: Recruit Arthur Cain. Reward: Allied assistance; possibility to learn Arthur’s move sets.]

The quest pop-up hovered in front of Ryan’s eyes like a small, bright command that he had to do without fail. He read the reward, and his breath slowly hitched. "Arthur," he said again. This time the feeling of honesty was buried in it. "Join me in this; I need your help. I can’t do this without you."

Arthur’s face was emotionless until a small smirk curled up on his lips; it was not forced—it felt real. It was not just a simple smile; it was a recognition for Ryan.

"You don’t get to pick fights because you have righteous anger inside of you," Arthur said quietly, and the lecture felt less like chastisement and more like a pact. "These are the street fights. There are no rules in this like an official match. You can get hit with a weapon, they can gang up on you, and you might even lose your life."