After my strike, I looked around at those who had been behind him. They clearly hadn't expected such a thing from a schoolboy; they weren't ready for me to fight back. And me? I am great, and I'm not going to put up with this. I will punish these thugs. But my gloating didn't last long. I didn't even understand how, but another thug — the one who had first spoken to me — was suddenly right in front of me. Actually, not him, but his fist, which landed squarely on my cheek. I can't call that punch strong — in fact, I didn't even budge. Looking at him and seeing his frightened expression, I struck him with the bag that had the cans of soda in it. After that, the massacre began, if you could call it that.
After the hit, I dropped my grocery bag, and then everyone except that girl jumped on me. I tried to trade blows, but there were just more of them. I endured and struck back, but as more and more hits landed on me, I got worse and worse, until finally something heavy hit me on the head. Not heavy enough to kill, but you definitely couldn't call that object light.
— Wha... Bast... Scum...
I couldn't hear anything; my ears were ringing, and all I saw was darkness. I felt someone hitting my face, but I still couldn't come to my senses. Instinctively, I lunged into the darkness, away from them. I needed a breather; I had to kite them apart, and then I would win. I also heard muffled screams behind me, but nevertheless, I kept running, not knowing where.
"Call for help? No, I am great, and I'll deal with these bastards myself. I'll win, I'll wipe them all out if I have to."
I didn't run for long. After some time, my vision and hearing returned to me. I could clearly hear them chasing me, and that played into my hands. I ran into another alley, not much different from the one I'd been in before, but that didn't matter at all — the important thing was that the one chasing me so fiercely was still behind me. I spun around and, with all my might, slammed my fist into his face — he fell with a deafening thud. Then his cronies appeared.
— What, you bastards, thought you'd kill me? Ha-ha-ha, come at me one by one, you scumbags!
My words and the sight of their immobilized buddy on the ground made the gang even angrier, and they threw themselves at me with renewed force. All except that girl, who had also been standing there earlier. Now, seeing all of them together, it was a hundred times easier for me to take a boxing stance. I threw a jab at the nearest one — no, don't get me wrong, I'm far from a boxer, not even close — I just copied what I'd seen on YouTube, and it paid off.
Blow after blow. They tried to grapple me, but they failed! It was such a clumsy attempt. Then I started gouging their eyes, tried to flip someone over myself, struck at necks, at groins — whatever it took to win. Because the main thing is the result! And after three minutes, I stood over all of them: exhausted, beaten, with a swollen and bloody face. Blood was dripping from my nose, but I didn't care — I had won! I am the greatest! But there was still the girl. Remembering her, I started to turn in her direction — until I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my shoulder.
— AHHH!
I screamed — it was unbearable pain. The girl, who had been standing there AFK the whole time, had just stabbed a knife into my shoulder. Overcoming myself and enduring the pain, I kicked her, pushing her away. Then I grabbed the knife: my body hurt, but my mind was still trying to think clearly. Even after what had happened, even knowing that if I pulled the knife out now, I might start bleeding heavily, I still did it. It's stupid, but I don't care. Holding the knife, I bared my teeth at the girl. She fell to the ground in fear, trembling — she probably didn't even understand what she had done. I tried not to waste time; maybe she had more tricks up her sleeve — I couldn't know. Approaching her and then grabbing her by her clothes, I pressed the knife to her face and then cried out:
— I'll kill you! Do you hear me? I'll kill you, and I won't care that you're a snub-nosed little bitch!
— Enough!
At that moment, someone called out to me, but I wasn't in a hurry to turn around. Maybe it was another enemy I'd have to fight. I let go of the girl, and she collapsed to the ground again. She had neither the strength nor the spirit to move. Then, turning my head toward the voice, I saw the following scene. Not far from me stood a girl with black-and-white hair. She wore something like a knight's "feminine" uniform; it wasn't armor, but something more aristocratic, yet at the same time, two swords hung from her belt. I can't say exactly how old she was — maybe over twenty, if that even matters.
— What? Did you come to kill me too?
— …
Her eyes showed how serious she was, but at the same time, there was sympathy in them. I can't explain it — it's the first time I've encountered this. It felt strange, and worst of all, disgusting. That terrible, disgusting feeling mixed with adrenaline and the remnants of blood on my lips.
— Listen, it's over. Put down the knife, and we can talk.
— Do you think I'm stupid? They tried to kill me, do you hear me? They attacked me as a mob and tried to overwhelm me with numbers — and I won! — I cried out.
Talk? What was she even talking about? Sure, I was wounded, but I hadn't lost my mind enough to agree to something like that!
— I understand, but put down the weapon anyway, or I'll have to do it myself. I don't want to, but you're leaving me no choice. I saw what you were about to do to that girl. If I hadn't intervened, I don't know how far you would have gone.
What was this fool saying? They tried to kill me! I'm the victim here... No, I'm not a victim — I'm the winner! With that thought, I threw the knife away, and it clattered to the ground, which was covered with the remnants of my blood. Then I looked back at her.
— Fine, then we've heard each other. I promise they will end up behind bars, and I will also help...
— SHUT UP!
— !?
"I won't tolerate this."
— I don't need your help! I'm not going down this quest line! I don't need your storyline or your ending! I'll achieve everything on my own without help, because I am great — cough — I coughed up blood.
— You need help, otherwise you'll die. It's my duty as a knight...
— SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! I don't care! Go away — just go away from me!
I turned away from her. I didn't want to see her. I said I'd do it all myself — I'll manage. I already said that — what more is needed? I'll go through this "game" on my own, without help, toward my own ending, with my own choices. This is my path. Just all of you, leave me alone!
— At least tell me your name before you go.
Name? In this world, is that something like a prologue? Do I need to come up with a nickname now? What should I answer? Should I tell her my real name? Or make one up? No, I never used nicknames. I always inserted Cyrillic characters so that the nickname wouldn't display in the game — it existed, but it didn't. I always played outside the rules, and this would be no exception.
— Does it matter? — With those words, I began to slowly walk away from her, holding my shoulder.
— Savannah Bakker — that's my name. If you need help, just call me, and I'll come.
What does "just call me" mean? Does she have me bugged or something? Not that I care. I didn't even turn to look at her. I moved on — I didn't know where, just forward.