His footsteps crunched through the dry leaves on the ground. The cold autumn wind caressed the white skin of a young man, who calmly watched his path as he carried a cloth bag full of split logs on his back and held an axe in his right hand.
The wind ruffled his black hair and made him shiver slightly. He let out a grunt of frustration and exhaled warm breath onto his hand to ease the discomfort of the cold.
"Damn it... it's supposed to be fall, why is it so cold?" Max complained, hiding his mouth and nose with the collar of his jacket. My body is freezing...
After a long journey, Max spotted some small houses shaped like turtle shells. He passed by three identical houses before taking a stone path and arriving at Mr. Baldur's house, which was connected to the dojo by an enclosed courtyard.
The door of the main house opened and a boy peeked out to see Max approaching.
"Max... do you need help?" the boy asks him.
Max notices that the boy is wearing long pants and a short-sleeved shirt, and to top it all off, he is barefoot.
"No, go inside, Oliver... it's very cold," his brother replies, "and cover up, for heaven's sake!"
Max approached the door and set the axe aside. Oliver held the front door open while he took the bag of firewood off his brother's back.
"Thank you very much..." Max said, watching Oliver place the bag next to a wood-burning stove.
The young man took off his jacket, hung it on a coat rack, and held his hands close to the stove, feeling the snot begin to melt in his nose.
"It's been six years since we arrived on Earth, and I still can't get used to the cold season on this planet..." he thought, as his hands warmed up with the heat radiating from the stove.
Oliver walked through the living room to the kitchen, where he found an older man standing next to a pot, stirring what appeared to be a stew.
"Mr. Baldur, Max is back from gathering firewood..." Oliver told him as he sat down at the table. His gaze fixed on the television, where the protagonist of a cartoon was acquiring a new power to defeat the villain of the moment.
From the back, the sound of a toilet flushing could be heard. A door opened and a boy came out of the bathroom clutching his stomach.
"God... that tea made me sick..." the boy complained.
"How can tea make you sick?" Oliver asked his cousin.
"It wasn't the tea, it was the kilo of sugar you added to it..." said Baldur, without taking his eyes off the stew. "Goten, I told you to control the amount of sugar you put in your breakfast."
"But I did control it... I put in 7 spoonfuls, before it was 12..."
"It's still an excessive amount," added Oliver.
"Shut up, you do the same thing..." Gouten replied with an annoyed grimace.
"Liar!" Oliver defended himself. "I put in two spoonfuls and..."
"Can you two stop?" Max asked, entering the kitchen and taking an apple from the center of the table, taking a bite.
Max saw a notebook on the table, picked it up, looked through a few pages, and frowned. Without saying a word, he smacked Gouten on the head.
"Ouch!" the boy cried, clutching his head. "What was that for?"
"You didn't finish the homework Mr. Baldur gave you..."
"Math is horrible!" Gouten defended himself. "What do I gain from knowing how to multiply?"
"Clown... you add faster. Let's see, how much is 4+4+4?"
Gouten began to count on his fingers.
"Twelve..." he replied.
"Oliver... 4x3?" Max asked, turning his gaze to his brother.
Oliver remained uncomfortably silent.
"Oliver?" Max asked, surprised, noticing his brother's nervous face.
"I still don't know the four times table..." Oliver replied fearfully, covering his head with his arms.
"Idiot... yesterday you recited the three times table perfectly! Let's see, 3x4?
"Twelve..."
"4x3?
"Um..." Oliver hesitated, nervous.
"This has to be a joke..."
Baldur chuckled and looked at the boys.
"And you haven't even learned how to divide yet..."
"There's more?!" Gouten exclaimed.
"You need to learn the basics of everyday life, you two clowns..."
"What about you? I never saw you study math!"
"I come with the knowledge of mathematics from planet Earth, but I was educated at age 4, not 6..." Max reproaches Gouten as he pulls his ear hard. "And you address me with respect, brat... I am your superior..."
"My superior, my ass!" Gouten replies as he endures the ear pulling.
"Okay, stop it... lunch is almost ready..." Baldur announces. "Set the table..."
"But we had breakfast five seconds ago..." Gouten mentions.
"Hours, stupid brat..." Max corrects him. "In addition to multiplication tables, do we have to teach you the differences in time?
Gouten responds by sticking his tongue out at him.
"TWELVE..." shouted Oliver, who had been calculating the table all this time.
"Oh, no..." Max groaned, slapping his face with the palm of his hand.
"We're doomed..." Baldur muttered, serving the stew.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Max and Baldur stopped dead in their tracks and exchanged confused glances.
"Were you expecting someone?"
"Not today..." Baldur replied.
Max walked to the door and opened it without fear, finding three men dressed in elegant suits, shivering from the cold.
"Is your grandfather here?"
"He's not my grandfather," Max replied indifferently.
"Your father?"
"No..."
"Well, never mind... Can we talk to the owner of the house...?"
"This is the fourth time that guys like you have come to offer money for Mr. Baldur's land... and you've already been told no... Can you leave?"
"But today we have an offer you can't refuse..." said the leader of the trio of businessmen, taking a step toward the house.
Max kicks him back about 5 meters, sending him falling backward onto the ground.
"And who gave you permission to enter the house, you bastard?" Max asks him angrily. "Not only are you annoying, you're also cocky..."
"What? You're like 15 years old! How can you be so strong?" asks the fallen man's companion, shocked.
Max was about to hit him, but he stopped to think of a response...
"I eat my vegetables!" Max shouted into the house, letting Gouten and Oliver hear.
"In your dreams!" Gouten shouted from the kitchen.
"He's lying!" Oliver added.
Max saw the man in the suit pull a gun from under his coat and point it directly at him.
"Give us the deeds to the dojo and we won't hurt you..." he threatened in a tense voice.
"Finally, you deign to threaten us... you were boring us by just offering more money than before," Max replied, unperturbed.
"I won't repeat myself!" the man exclaimed, holding the gun steady. "The deeds, now!"
"How annoying..." Max muttered, looking at him with contempt. "Shoot that gun, and you'll see how it goes..."
He then grabbed the men in suits flanking him and threw them next to the third man, as if they were dolls.
"He treated them like rag dolls..." whispered Oliver, amazed.
"Yeah... 'eat your vegetables,' my ass..." snorted Gouten. "Mr. Baldur, why is Max so strong? Is it because of our dependence?"
"Surely..." replied the old man calmly. "But there are also methods: training, working hard, and giving it your all."
"It would be interesting to train..." Oliver commented. "To be strong like Max... it would be the closest thing to being a TV superhero."
Max heard the phrase and smiled, encouraged.
"Well, I'll be your teacher!" he exclaimed happily.
Behind him lay the unconscious bodies of the three men in suits, causing confusion among the boys.
"What... When did you knock them out?" Oliver asked, confused.
"It only took two seconds!" Gouten shouted, frustrated. "I thought I was finally going to see some real violence today!"
"What about the weapon?" Baldur interrupted cautiously.
Max showed him a handful of metal pieces.
"Thank goodness..." Baldur murmured, relieved.
"Come on, it'll be great..." Max said to Gouten and Oliver. "I'll train you just like they trained me on the planet Terra. You'll be as strong as me... and you'll be able to help me with a personal mission I have."
"Personal mission?" Oliver and Gouten repeated, interested but confused.
"Personal mission?" Baldur asked, looking at him suspiciously.
"Yes... personal..." Max replied evasively.