Ryan's expression twisted into something between disbelief and amusement. "You're seriously not from the Johnson family in Texas?"
William gave a dismissive shrug. "That's right."
"Then what the hell are you acting all cocky for?" Ryan sneered. "You're just some broke-ass loser, aren't you? Fine. I bought your stuff—pay up. A hundred grand. Can't pay? Then this isn't over."
William smiled. "I don't have any money. If I did, I wouldn't have asked Lila to help me buy it."
What the hell?
Everyone in the room froze for a second, stunned by the sheer audacity of that answer.
The logic was airtight… and completely insane.
But seriously—if you can't even afford basic toiletries, where the hell do you get off acting like a king?
Was this guy planning to live off Lila? And act like he was doing her a favor?
Ryan gritted his teeth. "So what, you think you're funny? Or are you just so damn good-looking my sister's lost her mind?"
William tilted his head, thoughtful. "Probably both."
Oh, come on!
Ryan felt a sharp pressure in his chest. If he talked to this guy any longer, he was going to have a stroke.
"Get him!"
Enough talk. Ryan was done playing games. Fists were faster than words. He turned away, not even bothering to watch—he figured William would be on the floor crying in seconds.
Behind him, Thomas—the Taekwondo Club captain—grinned like a wolf. This was his moment to shine.
He cracked his knuckles, each pop echoing through the room, and slowly stepped toward William.
William stood up too, calm as ever. "So we're doing this?"
"You think you're hot shit, huh?" Thomas growled. "I'm gonna rearrange that pretty face of yours. Let's see how smug you are when you're spitting teeth."
Thomas was half a head taller than William, and his presence filled the room like a storm cloud.
The three roommates turned their heads away, too scared to watch what they assumed would be a brutal beatdown.
But just as Thomas raised his massive fist—big as a damn soup pot—William struck first.
One clean punch, right to the nose.
"AHHH!"
Thomas's scream tore through the room. His nose crunched under the impact, blood gushing instantly.
The nose was a sensitive, fragile spot. The pain hit like a freight train, and tears streamed down his face uncontrollably.
William stood there, arm still extended, watching Thomas stumble back. That punch had felt… good. Not too hard, not too soft. Just right.
He was still adjusting to this era, after all. In ancient times, students were just that—students. No real combat ability. Back then, arguments were settled with words, not fists.
But now? Apparently, college kids threw hands.
Still, William didn't want to hurt the guy too badly. Just a light punch—enough to make a point, not cause permanent damage.
Perfect control. Perfect force.
Behind him, Ryan casually said, "Thomas, don't go too hard. Just mess up his face a little."
He thought the scream had come from William.
"I…" Thomas was clutching his nose, blood pouring through his fingers. He wasn't thinking about fighting anymore—he was just trying not to pass out.
Ryan turned around—and froze.
What the hell?
Thomas—six-foot-two, built like a linebacker, trained in martial arts—was bleeding all over the floor?
From one punch?
Ryan's face darkened. "Screw it! All of you, get in there! Just leave him breathing. If anything happens, I'll take the heat!"
The dorm room wasn't big. Beds lined both sides, barely enough space to move. Even with a dozen guys, they couldn't all rush him at once.
One student lunged at William.
William punched him in the nose.
Another charged in.
Same result—straight to the nose.
Within two minutes, the room was filled with screams. Blood splattered the floor. One after another, guys were clutching their faces, noses broken, howling in pain.
To anyone walking by, it sounded like a massacre.
William turned and walked to the back of the dorm room, where the shared bathroom was. He rinsed his hands in a basin of water, then slowly made his way over to Ryan.
Ryan stood there like a statue, brain short-circuited. The moment William turned his back, he should've bolted. Why the hell was he still standing here?
As William approached, Ryan instinctively covered his nose.
This guy was a freak.
Ten-plus guys, all with broken noses. That wasn't just skill—that was terrifying.
William gave him a warm, almost friendly smile. "I'm heading out for a bit. You'd better clean up all that blood before I get back. Otherwise, I might have to come looking for you."
Ryan felt a chill crawl up his spine.
Was this guy one of those legendary "hidden masters" who come down from the mountains to marry into a rich family?
William didn't care what Ryan was thinking. He opened the dorm door.
The third-floor hallway was still packed with students. As William stepped out, every head turned to look at him.
But no one realized he was the guy Ryan had gone in to deal with.
After all, if Ryan and his crew had gone in and this guy was coming out, then obviously he had Ryan's permission… right?
William casually shut the door behind him and walked down the stairs under everyone's watchful gaze.
Lila saw him come out unharmed and finally let out a breath of relief.
As William stepped out of the dorm building, she walked up to him and said, "I couldn't exactly go into the guys' dorm, so I had my brother buy the stuff for you. Did it meet your needs?"
"It was fine," William nodded. "Your brother's helping me clean up the room now. Come walk with me—I've got a few questions I'd like to ask."
Ryan's helping him clean the room?
Lila blinked. That didn't sound like her brother at all. Since when did that brat become so… helpful?
"Sure," she said. "Ask whatever you want."
She still didn't know who William really was, but since her grandfather had personally told her to take care of him, she had no choice but to give it her all.
The two of them walked side by side through campus. William kept glancing around, his attention clearly not on Lila.
"I've got a few questions that might sound strange to you," he said seriously. "Don't be weirded out. I just came down from the mountains, so there's a lot I haven't seen before."
Then he asked, completely straight-faced, "Earlier, I saw a bunch of people holding these glowing things in their hands, tapping on them nonstop. What are those?"
…
Lila stopped in her tracks and turned to stare at him.
From the mountains?
Dude, you could've said you were from Mars and it would've been more believable.
"That's called a smartphone," she said, pulling hers out. She unlocked it with her fingerprint and held it up. "It's used to communicate—calls, messages. You can also play games, watch videos, listen to music…"
As she explained how it worked, she couldn't help but feel skeptical. Was he seriously this clueless, or was this some new pickup tactic?
Is this how guys flirt now? Pretend to be a caveman?
But William listened intently, eyes focused, genuinely curious.
Back in his time, there was no such thing as a "smartphone." And now, this tiny device could do so much—it was like a window into an entirely new world.
He was fascinated.