The group of hooligans had been pushed inside a class again. Apparently, they had developed the fear of being killed after my little lesson. I had hoped that they would quieten down, but not to the extent, where the giggling girl at the back of the classroom would start crying whenever an instructed called her out. The others had been eager to help her, I had been happy to see that they were gaining a sense of camaraderie that many groups lacked. If they truly possessed the potential, they would turn out into a great team that could fluidly work around a target. It would be beautiful to watch.
I entered the class and locked the door behind me. They jumped when they heard the soft click of the lock and then stared in horror. I pulled out my gun from the back pocket of my jeans. They flinched away, ready to duck under the desk if I started firing again.
