“I'll take care of it!" Xavier offered suddenly, raising his hand.

“Let me handle this, Devonte. I've never done it, but I've seen it on TV. It's just a quick job."

The crowd reacted with gasps of surprise.

"Even if they're guilty, they're just hired help. Isn't this too severe? And Lilah's alright, isn't she?" a voice from the crowd said.

It was one of Bartley's students, Elbert Vazquez.

Elbert, the student and nephew of Bartley, stood tall and handsome, his prowess in martial arts making him a favorite among the female members of the Fearless League. Yet, his growing arrogance toward his teachers and elders was becoming a significant concern.

In the presence of the three elderly men, Elbert often displayed a blatant lack of respect, which visibly irritated them.

As he concluded his remarks, murmurs of disapproval spread through the crowd, with some whispering about the harshness and unnecessary cruelty of the elderly men's actions.

The elderly men shared knowing Looks and responded with icy smirks.

Devonte then rose slowly and approached Elbert.

"What's going on, Devonte?" Elbert asked, his tone casual, betraying no concern for the gravity of the situation.

Bartley's brow furrowed in disapproval, poised to intervene, when Devonte suddenly seized Elbert by the waist and hurled him toward the ground.

A collective gasp of shock and dismay erupted from the crowd, as Elbert screamed, his voice piercing like a trapped animal, his face plummeting toward the earth-his striking features at risk of ruin!

Just before impact, a pair of swift hands grabbed his legs, suspending him in mid-air.

Elbert's heart skipped in relief, only to sink again at the sight of a fresh pile of dog feces just below, its stench assaulting his senses.

“Help! Help!" he croaked, his voice raspy with desperation, attempting to recoil from the impending filth.

With a sinister grin, Devonte released his hold.

“Ah!" Elbert's cry was wretched as he landed face-first into the vile mess, the foul odor enveloping him, making him feel irredeemably soiled.

Ashamed and horrified, he scrambled up and fled, fearing the mortification of being seen in such a disgraceful state.

Devonte casually clapped his hands, brushing away imaginary dirt, and remarked coolly, “Why all the noise, Elbert? You're opening your mouth so wide, one would think you're inviting the filth in."

“Devonte, this is too much!" Bartley exclaimed, his voice tinged with distress for his nephew's humiliation, as he pointed accusingly at Devonte.

Returning to his seat nonchalantly, Devonte arched an eyebrow.

"What's the fuss? He's unharmed. It's just a bit of dog mess. Why so heated, Bartley? Let's move on, shall we?"

Everyone stood in shocked silence, especially Bartley, whose expression soured as though he had tasted the filth himself.