Chapter 110: Mastermind Victims 2

Micah’s POV

I quickly flagged down a cab at the corner of the main street and slid into the back seat, giving the driver the destination for our university campus.

As the cab pulled away from the curb and merged into the morning traffic, my mind immediately spun back to the looming nightmare awaiting me tonight. Father is coming home in the evening. The thought alone sent a chill straight down my spine. But right now, there was nothing I could do to stop him. I couldn’t reply to his texts without giving away my location or a better excuse, and I certainly couldn’t call him without breaking into a full-blown panic attack.

So, I made a conscious choice to ignore his ten unread messages for the time being.

Instead, I pulled out my phone, unlocked the browser, and navigated straight to our university’s official student forum.

My stomach was tied in tight knots as the page loaded. I was terrified of what I was about to see. After seeing that brutal, bloody picture of George Jenson on the morning news with his shattered fingers, my mind was racing with horrible possibilities. Had Noah been arrested by the campus police? Had the rival team launched a physical retaliation against him on his way to the ice rink? Had he been suspended from the hockey team right before the championships?

The moment the student forum fully loaded onto my screen, my breath caught dead in my throat.

The entire front page was completely flooded. Page after page, thread after thread, Noah’s name and high-resolution photos were plastered across every single board.

Top trending hashtag at the very top of the screen: #JusticeForNoahMiller

I blinked once. Then twice. I rubbed my eyes hard, staring at the glowing screen in utter, speechless confusion.

Justice for who?!

My brain completely short-circuited. George Jenson was the one lying in a hospital bed with eight—no, ten—broken fingers and a face beaten to a pulp! George Jenson was the victim who was supposed to be screaming for justice!

How in the world did Noah take a violent, bloody assault that he committed and completely spin the narrative around until he looked like the innocent, victimized hero?!

My thumb swiped frantically across the screen, opening the highest-rated thread on the forum. The thread had over five thousand views and hundreds of comments from students, faculty, and hockey fans.

I quickly read through the pinned post summarizing the event:

[URGENT MEDIA BREAKDOWN] The Truth Behind the George Jenson Incident – Captain Noah Miller Ambushed!

Early this morning, terrifying reports surfaced claiming that George Jenson, captain of the rival hockey team, was hospitalized following a violent altercation. While initial rumors attempted to frame our very own Captain Noah Miller, official video footage and eyewitness statements released an hour ago reveal the horrific reality!

According to verified sources, George Jenson personally hired underground thugs to ambush Noah Miller and senior player Damon Vance outside a private room last night in an attempt to cripple our team’s starting lineup before the upcoming regional finals!

Captain Noah Miller acted entirely in legal self-defense, bravely putting his own safety on the line to defend his teammate, Damon Silver, from a mob of armed attackers. Jenson’s injuries were sustained during his own failed ambush attempt!

#ProtectOurCaptain #JusticeForNoahMiller #DisqualifyTheRivals

I sat frozen in the back of the moving cab, my mouth hanging wide open like an idiot.

They released video footage? What video footage?! Noah didn’t fight off an ambush of hired thugs! He walked straight into a VIP torture room at a club, sliced George Jenson’s hands up with a titanium membership card, and broke his fingers because George laid a hand on me!

How did he manage to spin a club brawl over a host into a heroic story of self-defense against a cheap athletic ambush?!

Shaking with intense curiosity, I scrolled down further into the thread to look at the attached media files.

My eyes widened until they nearly popped out of my head.

Right there on the screen was a high-definition press photograph taken outside the sports arena just twenty minutes ago. The photo featured Noah standing tall in his dark team jacket. He looked stoic, majestic, and completely unfazed, his sharp jawline set in stone as he stood like a dark knight protecting the person beside him.

And standing right beside Noah, clutching his arm in an expression of agony... was Damon.

Damon was literally in tears.

I leaned in until my nose was almost touching the screen, staring at the image in complete, breathless shock.

Damon—the arrogant, confident, smooth-talking guy who was casually making dirty jokes —was currently pictured sniffling into a white tissue. His eyes were red, his lower lip was trembling, and he looked like a traumatized, fragile victim who had barely survived a terrifying near-death experience.

Below the photo was an official quote from Damon’s brief statement to the press:

"It was awful... George Jenson threatened our lives. He wanted to break my legs so I couldn’t play in the finals. If Captain Noah hadn’t stepped in to protect me, I don’t know if I would even be standing here today. Noah is a true hero."

I stared at the screen, my heart hammering against my ribs, my jaw practically glued to the floor of the cab.

Damon was pulling off an Oscar-worthy performance on national television. Noah was playing the stoic, protective captain who saved his teammate from a villainous rival. The entire university—and likely the whole city—was currently rallying behind Noah, demanding that the rival team be disqualified for trying to harm our precious hockey stars.

Noah hadn’t just covered up the crime. He had completely rewritten reality, turned the media into his personal puppet, and made sure no one would ever question what really happened in that red room.

My phone vibrated in my hand as a new comment popped up on the thread, but I couldn’t even bring myself to read it. I just leaned back against the headrest of the cab seat, my brain completely fried from the sheer absurdity of it all.

Just what the hell did I miss while I was taking a twenty-minute cab ride to the club?!