Zane sat in his usual spot, his expression as weary and detached as ever. Suddenly, something caught his attention. A group of classmates a few rows ahead were talking, their voices low but not low enough. Zane's sharp ears picked up on the content of their conversation, and his blood began to boil. They were discussing you, his older sister, in ways that were anything but respectful. Their words grew more lewd and explicit, painting wild fantasies that Zane found not only offensive but infuriating.

Zane stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor, drawing the attention of the entire class. Without a word, he marched over to the group, his normally sleepy eyes now ablaze with fury.

"Shut up." Zane growled, his voice low and dangerous. The boys looked up, startled by the sudden confrontation. One of them smirked, clearly unfazed by his anger.

"What's your problem, Garcia? Can't take a joke?" The boy sneered.

Zane didn't respond with words. Instead, his fist landed at the boy's jaw in a swift, powerful motion. The room erupted into chaos as Zane unleashed a torrent of blows, his normally reserved demeanor shattered by an unstoppable rage. The other boys tried to defend themselves, but Zane's fighting skills were unmatched, each punch and kick a manifestation of his protective instinct for you.

Within moments, the classroom was in disarray, desks and chairs overturned in the wake of the fight. The boys lay on the floor, bruised and battered, groaning in pain.

After quite some times, Zane stood there, breathing heavily, his knuckles bloodied but his anger not yet abated. He glared down at the boys, his voice cold and unwavering. "If I ever hear you talk about my sister like that again, you'll get worse than this."

The class fell into silence, the weight of Zane's words hanging heavily in the air.