As a bystander, John Sullivan really wanted to step in, give James Reed a good beating, and snatch the jade pendant back to throw it to Charles Clark.

Moreover, maybe this way, James Reed wouldn’t completely offend Charles Clark, and might even save his own life in the future.

James Reed picked up the jade pendant from Grace Hill’s hand again, pretending to be disdainful: “If I’m giving it back, I’m giving it back. Who knows, it’s probably some cheap trinket bought from a street stall. I’m afraid it’ll dirty junior sister’s hands.” Even as he said this, he had no intention of actually returning it.

Charles Clark’s face tightened, and suddenly he threw both fists, hitting the low-ranking disciples who were holding him.

When people are enraged, their punches and kicks are wild and uncoordinated, driven only by anger. At first, he managed to scare those low-ranking disciples, but soon they realized how weak he was. James Reed called out from above, “What are you all standing around for? How dare you raise your hand against your senior brother—teach him what respect for elders means!” Immediately, they regained their courage and surrounded Charles Clark, beating him up.

Grace Hill was stunned and cried out, “Senior brother! How can you do this! Tell them to stop right now, or… or I’ll never speak to you again!”

James Reed panicked: “Junior sister, don’t be angry, I’ll tell them to stop hitting the kid…” Before he could finish, Charles Clark broke free from the grabbing hands and lunged forward, landing a punch right on James Reed’s nose.

With a loud “ow,” two streams of blood immediately flowed from James Reed’s nostrils.

Grace Hill had been on the verge of tears, but seeing this, she couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

John Sullivan: …Sister, do you actually like Charles Clark or are you trying to get him in trouble!

Originally, James Reed might have let Charles Clark off, but now that he’d been humiliated in front of his crush, there was no way he could just let it go!

Seeing the two of them wrestling together, no matter how talented Charles Clark was, he was still young and hadn’t studied any proper techniques. It was obvious he was just getting beaten up, but he gritted his teeth and didn’t make a sound. John Sullivan instinctively wanted to step in. Suddenly, the system blared a life-threatening warning: [Severe OOC! Severe OOC! Severe OOC! Important things must be said three times! ‘John Sullivan’ should choose to stand by and do nothing in this situation!]

John Sullivan didn’t know what the consequences of breaking the rules would be, and couldn’t risk it recklessly. Just as he was getting anxious, a sudden idea struck him—a compromise.

The Cangqiong Mountain Sect had a minor spell called “Plucking Leaves, Flying Flowers.” It didn’t seem very useful, just pretty and fun. In the original novel, it was described how Charles Clark used it to easily win the heart of a minor female character. Over the past few days, John Sullivan had been frantically studying all kinds of manuals and had come across this little spell.

He casually plucked a leaf, infused it with a bit of spiritual power—the first time he used too much, and the leaf shattered instantly. The second time, he succeeded, pinched it between his fingers, gently blew on it, and with a flick of his hand, the leaf shot out like a flying knife straight at James Reed!

Hearing James Reed let out a long, miserable scream, John Sullivan shook his hand and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

No wonder they say that in the hands of a master, even a flower or a leaf can injure someone. Hopefully, he didn’t actually kill James Reed with that shot…

Charles Clark had taken several punches and kicks, but suddenly felt James Reed stagger back. He looked up, blood streaming down his forehead and into his eyes, only to see James Reed reach out and find his own hand covered in blood.

James Reed exclaimed in disbelief, “You dare use a knife on me?!”

Grace Hill had been too scared to get close while they were fighting, but now she hurriedly stepped between them: “No, no, A-Luo didn’t use a knife. He didn’t hurt you!”

Charles Clark didn’t know what was going on either. He pressed his lips together and wiped the blood from his forehead. Blood was seeping through James Reed’s back, as if he’d been cut by a sword. He questioned the other disciples, “Did any of you see clearly? Did he have a knife?”

The junior disciples looked at each other, some shaking their heads, some nodding, all in confusion.

James Reed, a pampered young master, had never suffered such pain before. Seeing his hands covered in blood, he started to panic. But what puzzled him was that there was no sign of a weapon on the ground or on Charles Clark’s thin body. It couldn’t have just disappeared, could it?

John Sullivan held his breath. Suddenly, his vision turned red, and a line of huge, floating text appeared before his eyes, in a shocking blood-red color.

[Violation: OOC. B-Score -10. Current B-Score: 90.]

John Sullivan let out a sigh of relief. He’d originally thought he’d lose about 50 points, or maybe even all of them, but only losing 10 was better than he’d hoped. He could always earn them back later. But he didn’t get to relax for long before James Reed pointed at Charles Clark and shouted, “Beat him!”

John Sullivan almost coughed up blood on the spot.

Several disciples obeyed and rushed forward. John Sullivan instinctively grabbed a handful of leaves and sent them all flying with a whoosh.

He regretted it the moment he acted.

What am I doing this for? Charles Clark is the main character, after all. He’s been ganged up on before—could he really be beaten to death?!

Why are you worrying so much?!

He might have gotten away with it the first time, but now, there’s no way anyone could miss that something’s wrong!