"Well… isn't this straight out of a cliché," I muttered to myself, a crooked smile pulling at my lips as I rounded the corner and walked straight into the most overused night-scene setup imaginable: a robbery.
A woman in a hood clutched her bag like it was the last rope keeping her from drowning. Her face was hidden, but the desperation in her posture spoke louder than words. Opposite her stood a man with a knife—our villain of the night.
Classic setup, right? Lady in peril, thug with a blade, and me—the mysterious hooded passerby. This is the part where the so-called brave young man leaps in, beats the criminal half to death, and then extends a hand to the trembling woman. "Care to walk with me under the moonlight, beautiful stranger?" Cue the romantic soundtrack. Maybe fireworks, if the budget allows.
Yeah, no. Wrong script.
First step: actually look at the scene. The woman's grip was iron, but my eyes lingered on the knife. The man's hand… it was shaking. Not the steady grip of a seasoned criminal, but the jittery tremor of someone out of his depth—scared, desperate, and utterly pathetic. His whole body language screamed amateur.
"Hey! Are you just going to stand there?!" the woman's voice sliced through the tension, louder now, trembling with a mix of fear and pure outrage. "Help me!"
"St-stay back!" the thug barked, trying to sound dangerous. His voice cracked like cheap glass, a pitiful sound that did more to reveal his weakness than his intent.
I exhaled slowly, my gaze sweeping over the scene. "Yes, yes, I hear you, miss. But before I rush in, let me ask—this isn't one of those scams, right? Where you two are in on it together and just waiting to jump me the second I play the hero?"
"Are you insane?!" she snapped, her fear momentarily drowned by pure, unadulterated outrage. "I'm not working with anyone! Either help or call someone else!"
"Patience, my lady, patience," I said, shaking my head with theatrical weariness. "Women really don't have that word in their dictionary, huh?"
I stepped forward at an easy, unhurried pace. The thug's bravado shriveled with each footfall, his eyes darting frantically, his grip rattling harder on the knife. Everything about him screamed amateur.
"D-Don't come any closer," he stammered, the knife quivering like a frightened animal. "Or else… things'll get ugly."
I tilted my head, letting a half-smile curve my lips. "Relax, man. I'm not here to comfort you…" My voice dropped, casual yet sharp, like a shard of glass. "…I'm here to teach you."
The robber panicked, maybe mistaking my words for a genuine threat, and lunged with his knife. A sloppy, desperate strike—easy to dodge. The blade hissed through the air, missing me by a good foot as I leaned away with almost lazy grace.
"Buddy, buddy—relax," I said, straightening up. "When I said 'teach,' I didn't mean math homework. I meant life lessons. The real kind."
"Don't mock me!" he barked, swinging again, wilder, emptier, desperate to hit something.
I dodged once. Twice. My movements were fluid, almost insulting in their effortlessness. I almost yawned.
"Well then," I sighed, "no choice."
I slipped inside his guard, too fast for his panicked mind to track, and caught his wrist mid-swing. His eyes widened, a flicker of pure terror finally replacing the bravado.
"Wh-what?! Let go!" he screamed, jerking uselessly. My grip held him firm, unyielding as steel.
"Tsk, look at you," I said, twisting his wrist just enough to make the bones grind. The yelp that escaped him was pitiful—half pain, half shame. "Hands trembling, stance sloppy, every twitch practically screaming your intentions. You're not a robber, kid… you're a walking obituary."
With a smooth tug, the knife came free into my hand. I twirled it lazily, letting the lamplight catch on the silver edge. It gleamed like it was laughing at him. I grinned—not kind, not friendly. It was a grin that promised nothing but chaos.
"G-give it back!" he barked, lunging.
I dodged without effort, my boot slamming into his gut. Thud. He folded, gasping, eyes bulging like a fish yanked out of water.
"Guuh—"
"See, this is why you're like this." My voice was light, almost cheerful. "Blind to the situation, stupidly desperate. And that's exactly why I have to take over the 'teaching' part. You should be grateful, really. Lucky you—I don't charge tuition."
I turned slightly, my words directed at him and the woman in equal measure, my tone dripping with cruel playfulness.
"So… let's start the lesson, shall we? Watch closely."
And without warning, I walked right past him—toward the woman. Both of them froze, confusion plastered across their faces like masks of disbelief.
"H–hey! What are you doing?!" the boy stammered, his voice cracking like a cheap flute.
The woman's eyes went wide, horror cutting through her breath. "What the hell are you doing?! You took down that thug—so why are you coming at me with the knife?!"
"Shhh." I pressed a finger to my lips and smiled like a man telling a bedtime story. "Educational purposes only. Just play along, okay? You'll thank me later."
And then, with a perfect shift in tone—smooth, casual, thug-like—I dropped into the role.
"So, lady. Hand over your belongings. Purse, jewelry, dignity—whatever you've got. You know the drill."
Her jaw unhinged. "W–what's wrong with you?! Why are you acting like a thug now?!"
I sighed dramatically, dragging the knife through the air like a bored conductor. "Don't waste my time. Is that bag really worth more than your life? If so, fine. I respect the brand."
"You psycho freak!" she screamed, spinning on her heel and bolting down the street.
I chuckled and stretched. "Well, cardio it is."
The hood of my robe fluttered like a cape as I chased her down. A few easy strides and I caught her wrist.
"Don't come near me!"
"Too late—I already did," I said casually, twisting her arm until the bag slipped. She swung it at my head in desperation; I ducked like it was a game. One step later, I was behind her, the knife's edge brushing her neck like winter's first kiss.
"Now, pretty lady…" I whispered, voice velvet, "this little drama ends here. Hand over the bag, simple and clean. Or…" I pressed the steel closer, just enough to draw a thin line of red, "…let my knife sing you a lullaby."
Behind me, the wannabe robber wheezed in panic.
"Wh–what the fuck, man?!" he croaked. "I'm the one supposed to be robbing here, not you! This is insane! You're insane!"
I glanced at him flatly, not loosening my grip on her. "Didn't I tell you to watch? Shut up and observe. You wanted to learn—so learn."
His face went pale. "T-that's not robbing, that's—you're fucking murdering her!"
"Relax," I said, flashing a smile sharp enough to slice. "It's educational either way. She either gives me the bag… or the knife gives her a TED Talk."
The boy dropped his own knife with a metallic clatter, hands shooting up. "Nope, nope, nope! I'm out. Screw this! Lady, just give him the bag! We don't know what this psycho freak is gonna do next!"
"See? He's catching on. Listen to the gentleman," I said smoothly. "Now, the bag."
"J-just take it! Take it all!" she sobbed, shoving it into my hand, her whole body trembling.
"You're insane…" she gasped, tears streaming. "You're the same as him—you get off on making people suffer, don't you?!"
I tilted my head, feigning hurt. "Don't lump me with that Walmart-brand criminal. I'm… premium." I twirled the knife between my fingers like a toy. "And for the record, I'm not robbing you. I'm teaching him. Think of me as… a tutor. Hands-on learning."
"You liar!" she shrieked. "I gave you the bag—now let me go! Please!"
"Hey, hey, what's with the waterworks?" I said, voice gentle. "Did I go too far? Tch. See, man—" I pointed at the robber, who looked ready to faint, "—this is your fault. She's crying because you didn't learn properly."
The robber's face twisted. "She's crying because of you, you psycho freak!"
*Uwaa aa—*her crying only got louder, trembling like a scared rabbit.
Her tears fell harder, streaking her face, and I couldn't help but sigh. "Man, I am not good with tears." I turned my head toward the boy, who looked ready to collapse. "See that? That's the price of dragging your feet during a robbery. Rookie mistake. Always finish fast, or people cry, and then the teacher gets pissed."
"Shut the fuck up and release the poor girl right now!" he shouted, panicking.
"Oooh, yes, yes. Don't worry, my pretty lady, the lesson is over," I said in a gentle bow. I slid the knife away from her neck and smiled casually.
"Here, take it back, man. Use it wisely next time," I tossed the knife towards him like it was nothing, a casual, almost lazy flick of the wrist.
But—oops. Slight problem.
"Whssht.
THUNK.
The sound that followed wasn't metal on ground—it was metal in flesh.
"AAAAAGH!" The boy's scream tore through the night. He staggered back, clutching his face. The knife was buried in his right eye, the hilt protruding grotesquely. Blood poured down his cheek like a sick fountain.
"My eye! My eye! My fucking eye!"
I whistled, a long, low sound. "Well, shit… damn man, now you're a Popeye. Guess lesson number two is—if you're no expert at throwing knives, don't throw them randomly." I clapped my hands together, a single, final sound echoing in the alley. "Lesson learnt."
"You psycho motherfuck—" he tried to curse, but mid-rant his foot slipped on the blood pooling beneath him.
BAM. Face-first on the pavement. The sound of his skull hitting the concrete was sickeningly final.
I walked closer, tilting my head, and poked him with my shoe. "Damn man, did the knife get deeper? Hey… hey, you alive there?" Silence. No movement. Not even a groan.
I sighed, a long, dramatic sound. "Well, quite the sad ending, man. Guess karma's a bitch. Should've stuck to good deeds, buddy."
Turning back, I saw the lady still frozen, eyes wide like she couldn't believe what she just witnessed. Her hands were trembling, her lips pale, and her face a mask of shock.
"Hash," I sighed, walking towards her with gentle, unhurried steps. "Lady, looks like my lessons are wasted. But hey, thanks for the cooperation. You good, by the way?"
Her violet eyes lifted to mine for the first time. They were beautiful, delicate, and streaked with tears. For a second, I almost forgot myself. Almost.
Then—
SLAP!
A sharp sting exploded on my left cheek, echoing in the silent street.
"Jerk!" she spat, her voice a raw, trembling thing.
My hood slipped down, revealing my face. Recognition flashed across hers, but she didn't waste a second. She turned and bolted, running as fast as she could.
I stood there quietly, fingers brushing my burning cheek, watching her fading figure disappear into the shadows.
"Quite the thanks that was," I muttered with a crooked smile.
With a sigh, I turned to walk—only to notice something lying carelessly on the ground.
"…Seriously?" I crouched, picking it up. "All that melodrama, all those tears, the dramatic slap—hell, even that touching farewell—and she still managed to forget her bag, huh?"
I held it up, weighing it in my hand like some kind of trophy.
"Guess the small play's over," I said with a half-laugh. "Curtain drops, audience gone, only the poor stage left bloody. Quite the show, really."
I walked. My destination was obvious—back to the mansion. My footsteps echoed in the hollow street, each one fading behind me. The only things left back there were silence… and the thug lying in a puddle of his own blood.
Or maybe not lying. Who knows—maybe he's still twitching in there like a half-crushed cockroach.
Well, maybe alive, maybe not. But who cares? I'm not the type to handle cleanup. Besides, it's not like anyone's going to come running here to report me. The lady saw my face, sure… but something tells me she won't be doing anything about it.
The thought made me oddly certain. A gut feeling, perhaps.
I paused for a moment, her violet eyes flashing briefly in my mind. Something about that look lingered—uneasy, familiar.
"Speaking of which… I think I've seen her before," I murmured. A sharp, amused smile tugged at my lips. "But the question is—where exactly?"
My fingers drummed idly against the bag.
"Well, anyway, we'll probably meet again. Who knows when. In fact, I've got a damn good excuse—her bag's still with me. Can't have her thinking I'm a thief on top of everything else, can I?" I chuckled under my breath, humming a little tune as the night deepened.
The street swallowed my figure whole as I disappeared into the shadows.
And so ended my last free night. Tomorrow… tomorrow would be the beginning of a new day. A new journey. The academy awaits.