The world had, for the second time that night, compressed into a single, slow-motion, life-or-death instant.
From inside the library, Su Yun let out a high-pitched, desperate shriek. "NO!"
The pack leader, a seventy-pound missile of mutated sinew and [Level 1]-enhanced bone, was in the air. Its crimson eyes were burning with pure, triumphant rage. Its jaws were open, saliva and blood flying, its fangs, sharp as razors, aimed directly at Lin Hao's exposed, grime-covered throat.
It was the perfect kill.
Lin Hao was on his back, "defenseless," his "weapon" ten feet away.
This was the climax of the performance. And it had to be perfect.
He didn't move to avoid it. He let it happen. He had to let it hit him, to sell the desperation.
At the last possible nanosecond, as the beast's hot, rank breath, smelling of rotten meat and blood, blasted his face, Lin Hao "found" his strength.
"NNNGGAAAAH!"
A raw, panicked, purely human roar of adrenaline-fueled terror tore from his throat. It was the most convincing sound he had ever made.
He didn't use his internal Qi. He didn't use a cultivator's precise, efficient technique.
He brought his hands up, his fingers splayed, and shoved them, with all his "newly Awakened" [Level 2: Adept] strength, directly into the monster's open, snapping mouth.
His right hand jammed against the upper palate. His left hand caught the lower jaw.
THUD.
The full, seventy-pound weight of the leaping monster, moving at over thirty miles an hour, slammed into him. It was like being hit by a small, very angry motorcycle.
He was knocked flat on his back, his head cracking (harmlessly, thanks to his [Level 4: Bone Forged] skull) against the pavement. The impact was real, and it was brutal.
And now, the struggle.
He was on the ground. The monster was on top of him, its full weight pinning him, its body a mass of writhing, furious muscle.
Its red-hot, glowing eyes were inches from his.
Its jaws, blocked by his hands, were snapping. SNAP. SNAP. GRIND. He could feel the supernatural power in its jaw muscles, a force that would have crushed a normal man's forearms to pulp.
But his arms were not normal.
He strained. He put every ounce of his "Adept" strength into keeping the jaws apart. His biceps bulged, his tendons stood out like steel cables on his forearms, a perfect, visible display for the cameras.
"GRRRR!" he roared, his face a mask of supreme, straining effort.
"H... H..." The beast was trying to breathe, to kill, its hot, foul breath washing over him. Its claws, its [Level 1: Iron Skin]-enhanced claws, began to tear at his chest, at his stomach.
SSSKKKR! SSSKKR!
The sound was horrifying. The claws, which would have disemboweled a mortal, scraped uselessly, pathetically, against his own [Level 1: Iron Skin].
But combined with the black, caked-on grime and the blood from the other dogs, it looked like he was being torn to ribbons.
He was "losing." The jaws were "closing."
From the doorway, Fatty Zhang was screaming, "LIN HAO! FIGHT! FIGHT!"
This was it. The "final burst."
Lin Hao's eyes, which had been wide with "terror," now narrowed into a "final, desperate" glare.
He let out one last, ragged, "heroic" roar.
"GET! OFF!ME!"
He didn't just push. He twisted.
His hands, still jammed in the monster's mouth, became vices. His right hand, gripping the upper jaw, pushed forward. His left hand, gripping the lower jaw, pulled back.
He put his entire [Level 4: Bone Forged] core into a single, violent, "desperate" full-body contortion.
There was no grace. It was a brutal, ugly, life-or-death movement.
CRRRACK!
The sound was not loud. It was a heavy, wet, final sound, like a thick, green branch being snapped in two.
The dog's spine, at the base of the skull, was severed.
The creature's body went rigid. The snarling, the thrashing, the grinding of teeth, it all stopped.
The crimson, supernatural light in its eyes, which had been burning with such feral rage, flickered once.
And then, it extinguished.
The body, suddenly just seventy pounds of dead, heavy meat, went limp, its full, crushing weight collapsing onto Lin Hao's chest.
It was over.
The campus, for the first time in what felt like an hour, was silent.
Lin Hao lay there for a long second, his chest heaving, his "performance" of exhaustion now his primary focus. He was panting, his lungs burning (faked), his body "trembling" with adrenaline (faked).
With a "pained" groan, he shoved the heavy, dead animal off of him. The body rolled onto the pavement with a wet thud.
He pushed himself up. Slowly. Painfully.
He was a mess. He was covered, from head to toe, in a truly gruesome mixture: his own black, caked-on purification grime, the blood and saliva of ten mutated dogs, and the ripped tatters of his hoodie's shoulder, which looked like a massive, grievous wound.
He looked like a warrior who had walked, barely, out of hell.
He stumbled, "limping," to the broken library doors. He braced one "trembling" hand against the shattered frame, steadying himself.
He looked inside.
Fatty Zhang was on the floor, his printer forgotten, his jaw on the ground.
Su Yun was standing, her hands pressed to her mouth, her eyes wider than he had ever seen them. They were full of terror, relief, and a profound, earth-shattering awe.
They weren't looking at the quiet, stressed-out kid from their class. They were looking at a monster who had saved them from other monsters.
"Lin Hao..." Su Yun whispered. Her voice was a trembling, disbelieving breath.
"...you... you're an Awakened!"
Lin Hao looked at her. His eyes were "tired." His face was "grim." He was too "exhausted," too "shocked" to speak.
He just gave a single, slow, pained nod.
His "hidden boss" identity was safe.
His "campus hero" identity had just been born.