Chapter 208 – Beating

“Take off your hood,” Rosalie said, stepping toward Luke.

Luke “obeyed,” bringing his hands to the hood and revealing his face. He wanted to see exactly what this trio of vampires intended to do.

Both Rosalie and her two companions flinched slightly upon seeing Luke’s feminine form up close—something that did not go unnoticed by his clairvoyant eye.

Rosalie frowned as she got a closer look at Tuesday’s face. She did not seem pleased at all to see someone who surpassed her in beauty.

Before Rosalie could make her next move, hurried footsteps echoed around them, and within seconds, two more figures arrived.

Luke had to restrain himself from reacting, as doing so would reveal that Rosalie’s hypnosis had no effect on him.

He recognized the two newcomers—two teenagers from Shadyside who shared a class with him: Elias and Lauren. They were even part of Wednesday’s group of fake friends.

What the hell were they doing here? And more importantly, the speed at which they arrived made it clear they were Outcasts—it was impossible for them to be Normies.

‘Are they vampires too?’ Luke thought, confused. He had read Elias’s mother’s memories, and there was nothing in them indicating that she was a vampire or that her son was one.

Besides, these two had spent a lot of time at school with Wednesday, someone extremely observant. It was unbelievable that she hadn’t noticed.

‘She won’t take this well…’ Luke thought. If Wednesday found out about this “mistake” on her part—that two vampires had fooled her—she wouldn’t be happy at all.

“What are you doing?” Elias asked, looking at Rosalie and the others.

“Shut up, half-breed. We don’t owe you any explanations,” Rosalie scoffed, clearly in no mood.

‘Half-breed?’ Luke thought.

“What you’re doing is too risky! Everyone will notice this girl’s disappearance on game day,” Elias exclaimed, refusing to back down.

“We know that, idiot. We’re not going to kill her or make her disappear,” the lanky guy said irritably. His complexion was pale, he stood nearly 1.95 meters tall, and his dark hair was relatively long.

“I’ll just mark her. Let her suffer a little,” Rosalie added, licking her lips and baring her sharp fangs.

‘Mm, they’re not as stupid as I initially thought,’ Luke mused.

A vampire’s bite could cause nightmares, sleep disorders, persistent pain at the wound site, and a state of weakness.

“Why? This isn’t what we were asked to do,” Lauren asked, slightly confused by the change in plans.

“Because I said so,” Rosalie snapped, before making a quick motion with her hand.

A burst of blood shot from her palm toward Lauren, who barely had time to cross her arms in an X to shield herself.

Lauren was sent flying backward, crashing hard against the trunk of a tree. Deep cuts formed on her forearms, bleeding profusely.

Elias quickly rushed to her side to help her and check if she was okay.

“I’m tired of your questions,” Rosalie said with a sneer of disdain, briefly glancing at Lauren and Elias before turning her attention back to Luke and approaching him at a steady pace.

When she got close, just as she was about to extend her pale hand toward her victim’s neck, Luke looked at her.

His eyes snapped out of their supposed trance, locking onto Rosalie’s crimson gaze. She froze, startled by the sudden change.

Before she could react, Luke spoke in a cold tone.

“Kneel.”

The command reached Rosalie’s brain—she couldn’t even resist for a second. Her knees buckled, and in an instant, she was kneeling before Luke, who gazed down at her with an icy stare.

That wasn’t all. Luke pulled his leg back and, using all his physical strength, drove his knee straight into Rosalie’s face.

The beautiful vampire’s nose shattered, a couple of teeth flew out, and blood gushed from her mouth.

Luke hadn’t even used his telekinesis to enhance the blow, yet he still managed to knock Rosalie out cold.

Though psychics had less physical strength than certain types of Outcasts, like Werewolves or Vampires, their power still surpassed that of a Normie.

If he landed a well-placed hit with full force on a vampire like Rosalie—who wasn’t specialized in endurance—knocking her out was easy.

The place fell into silence. Rosalie’s two vampire companions stood in shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened. As for Lauren and Elias, they stared wide-eyed at Tuesday—the supposed Normie girl who had arrived in Shadyside just over a month ago.

“Tsch, what a weak vampire. You’re lucky I’m not allowed to kill you.”

Luke’s irritated, disdainful voice broke the silence. He had expected Rosalie to put up more of a fight or at least endure more than a single blow.

“You bastard! Who the hell are you?!” the lanky vampire shouted in fury, about to lunge at Luke. But he was stopped by his companion, who, unlike the other two, had maintained a serious expression from the start.

“Don’t be reckless, Alex. She’s a psychic,” he said in an irrefutable tone. Alex stared at him for a moment before reluctantly holding his ground.

“You’re right. We need to attack her together, Armand,” Alex said, trying to contain his rage at seeing his sister unconscious on the ground, her face a complete mess.

‘A psychic?’ Elias thought, looking at Tuesday as if she were a stranger. He had never imagined that she was an Outcast like him—let alone that she belonged to the psychic race.

‘Does that mean Jenna is one too?’ he wondered, full of doubt.

“What is a psychic doing here?” Armand asked.

Luke observed him closely and realized he was the strongest of the three—or at least that’s what his authoritative stance over Alex suggested.

“Am I not allowed to be here? I understand that this is your territory and that you use Shadyside as a blood farm for Normies, but that doesn’t mean I’m forbidden from coming,” Luke replied with a slight mocking smile.

Luke’s response made Armand, Alex, Elias, and Lauren’s expressions darken with surprise and unease.

‘This isn’t good,’ Armand thought, panic beginning to set in—but he forced himself to stay calm. They needed to warn his father and the others.

Without hesitation, Armand swiftly pulled out a pristine ceremonial dagger and placed it in Alex’s hands.

“Brother, what are you doing?” Alex asked.

“Get out of here. Now. Tell Father and Grandfather,” Armand ordered in a serious tone as he lightly bit his finger, letting a drop of blood fall onto the blade.

The dagger gleamed briefly, and in the blink of an eye—Alex vanished.

‘A teleporter…’ Luke thought with a slight grimace. He hadn’t expected Armand to act so paranoid and quick.

Though it made sense—learning that another Outcast knew what his family was doing here was enough to send him into a panic. If this got out, the Drosia clan itself would kill him and his entire family.

‘Oh well,’ Luke thought, not particularly worried about a couple more vampires showing up. He would defeat Armand before they arrived and get the information he needed.

Besides, he had already sent a telepathic message to Wednesday and Natasha, informing them of the situation.

Luke extended his arm toward Armand, who was already prepared for battle.

Armand knew better than to underestimate this blue-aura psychic, but he trusted in his own strength. His mental resistance was far superior to his sister’s. Plus, his physical strength and speed should give him the edge.

‘Why is she extending her arm?’ Armand thought, feeling a sudden twinge of unease.

They were over ten meters apart—there was no way this blue-aura psychic could attack him from that distance without moving.

But the moment that thought crossed his mind, his expression darkened.

An invisible force seized him.

A devastating telekinetic pull wrapped around him, sucking him in as if gravity had suddenly shifted. He tried to resist, planting his feet on the ground with all his physical strength, but the pressure was overwhelming.

‘A dual-aura psychic?! Damn it!’ he thought as his body was yanked toward Luke, completely out of control. The wind howled in his ears.

As Armand hurtled toward him at high speed, Luke clenched his fist, waiting for the perfect moment.

The instant Armand reached him—rushing in like an out-of-control bullet—Luke struck with flawless timing.

BOOM!

The impact was brutal.

Armand’s face collided directly with the punch, amplified by the sheer velocity at which he was being pulled. His head snapped back violently, his skin rippling from the force, and a shockwave echoed through the air.

It was like smashing a baseball with a steel bat.

A sickening crack resonated as Armand’s nose shattered instantly, sending a spray of blood in every direction. His teeth crumbled under the overwhelming force—some splintering, others ripped out completely.

Armand didn’t get blasted backward.

His body plummeted straight down.

His head crashed against the ground with a dull, heavy thud, kicking up a cloud of dust and fragments of earth.

He lay motionless.

His face, pressed into the dirt, bore the imprint of Luke’s fist, seared into his skin like a burning brand. Blood soaked his mouth, seeping between his shattered teeth. His breathing was weak.

‘Why is he so weak!?’ Luke thought, his expression twisting in confusion as he realized Armand had been knocked unconscious.

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