Never Again

Chapter 17: Continuation

I turned to the person next to me.

Logan slowly opened his eyes and then looked at the thüg frostily. His momentum was bitingly cold that subconsciously made the robber turn pale, and shiver from fear.

"W-what are you doing..." She shivered as she sweated and a trace of fear appeared on her face.

"Scram," Logan uttered chillingly.

The holdaper's trembling grew stronger and he almost ran out of blood due to the extreme paleness of his face. But he seemed to realize that his earlier nervous expression was immediately replaced by shame and anger.

"Let go of me!" Exhausted by his angry scream, he violently struggled in Logan's grip.

Logan also immediately let go of him due to the violent fall backwards due to the force he used. The people inside gasped loudly and were nervous that they might share the holdaper's anger. The others were annoyed and yelled at Logan.

"Just give me your things!"

"Yes indeed! You're still sympathizing with us here!"

"Are your things more important than human life!"

Logan did not pay attention to the accusations against him and his expression was calm. I saw that he took a white handkerchief from his pocket and then slowly wiped the hand that was holding the holder.

Even though his actions were casual, I can feel the extreme disdain he had for the mugger.

I completely understand why these people are acting this way, they felt their lives are being threatened, and they are helpless about it that's why they're this desperate.

I saw Logan creased his brows then suddenly stood up. "I'll get some fresh air," he said coldly to me as he walked towards the door of the bus.

The fallen holdaper stood up violently and pointed the fake gun in Logan's direction. "Where are you going?! Who said you can leave! Come back here or I'll shoot you!"

Logan didn't listen to him and just continued walking down. You can see if his facial expression darkened but he couldn't fire the gun because he knew from his own eyes that it was really fake.

Annoyed by this, he suddenly turned to where I was sitting and seemed to have thought of something, so without saying a word, he suddenly violently pulled me upright and pointed the gun at my head.

"Told you to stop! But I'm going to shoot it in your girlfriend's head!" The holdar yelled as Logan was getting off. I frowned when he called me.

Logan turned to us. His expression unchangeable.

"Go on," he said, impassive. As if what ever happens to me is none of his concern.

"..." Tch. This jerk...

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Heh! Don't you even care about your girlfriend?" The holdover said in disbelief.

I couldn't help but cringe at what he said. It's obvious, right? Just blind? Then who wants to be that rock's girlfriend? Only you. Tch.

There was a flicker of emotion that fittingly passed through in his black eyes, however it quickly vanished. Logan still had an unperturbed look on his face.

"HAHAHAHA. Look, your boyfriend doesn't really love you, it looks like he's just chasing your beauty. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk." It still shook as if he felt sorry for him.

I slightly titled my head away from him. Aside from the fact that I can already hear in his voice that it's ugly to listen to, I can smell the foul stench coming from his breath every time he opened his mouth. I can't help but have the urge to vomit.

Suddenly, it bent slightly closer to my left hip. I moved my head further away from him while holding my breath. I felt the muzzle of the fake gun touch the right side of my head as I moved. "Don't be sad beautiful... I'm here I'll take good care of you and make sure I make you happy every day... in my bed." He grinned. I stopped and my vision darkened.

It's not because I'm too lazy to beat you, you f*ste, I'll just let you insult me. Please! Back to back!

I was about to make a move when someone was ahead of me. Suddenly, someone over my arm came forward, followed by a loud thump that I heard from behind. I stared at Logan in shock as he lowered his foot and kicked the bastard holdaper.

He looked at me with a frown. "Why are you in a daze? Didn't you just beat a bunch of âsshöles, but you can't even deal a single îdîot?" He said coldly, there was a faint hint of displeasure in his voice.

He still held his arm when he reached out. My reaction returned to normal and I looked at him calmly. "I'm lazy," was the casual answer to his question. "He can't hurt me anyway the gun's fake." I added.

He just stared at me, and afterwards clicked his tongue. "Tsk. St*pid," he looked away while letting go of my arm. He walked back to our seat and then replaced me in my seat. He opened the window to let in the air and closed his eyes.

I looked at him confusedly. Did I say something wrong?

I just shrugged it off and looked at the splashed holder. He was unconscious and had blood on the side of his lips. I approached it to find out if it was still breathing. I felt his nose and I could only make out a weak breath on him. I wonder how strong that kick was for him to be in this state.

Soon we heard the sound of the police siren. They let us all down after they caught and loaded the passed out holdaper and returned the things he took to the owners. When the others found out that the gun used by the holdaper was fake, they all almost exploded with anger, especially the driver, and they wanted to attack and beat the unconscious holdaper in case the police stopped them.

The others thanked Logan because if he hadn't stopped him, their belongings might have been swept away. When the police found out about this, they were planning to invite me and Logan to the police to be interrogated about what happened, but they stopped what they were doing because a car suddenly arrived.

When the police saw the insignia on the hood of the car they did not dare to block it, and immediately made way. The car stopped in front of me and Logan, then the driver's seat door opened. Grandpa Go, the Fergusons' butler, came down from here.

It bowed to both of us as it approached. "Young master, young miss," he greeted me.

Logan just gave him a nod as an acknowledgment.

I smiled at him, "Grandpa Go," I greeted back.

When the police got to know that we're related to the no. 1 family of this country they became extremely respectful and no longer bothered us. I even saw some of them wipe an imaginary sweat on their forehead. Knowing our identities these police officers already knew that this common robbery issue wouldn't be a simple matter anymore.

Grandpa Go reported that Grandpa was going to pick us up because it took us so long to arrive. He knew Logan didn't bring a car that's why he wanted grandpa Go to fetch us. As for how did grandfather Go able to know our current location. That's not surprising, they had their own means.

We immediately got into the car and left there. The whole trip was quiet inside the car. Grandpa Go doesn't speak either and just concentrates on driving. Although we didn't really talk about it next to me, it felt like it was a bad mix. He was currently exuding a very gloomy aura.

I just don't know what the problem is and I have no intention of finding out.

It's none of my business anyway.

It's still a stone brain, it doesn't follow logic.