"Sigh… today really is a bullshit day isn't it?" Max cursed to himself staring tiredly at the man in front of him.
The stranger was odd not just because of his eyes, but because of the ridiculous, oversized W-shaped moustache drooping from his face like some cursed calligraphy. And right now, the guy was aiming a small stick maybe a twig pr somey right at Max's face, like he meant business.
Max's shoulders slumped with tired amusement. "This is exactly why I live in the jungle," he muttered under his breath, chuckling bitterly. "No people. No moustaches. No nonsense."
He didn't like trouble. Never had. Trouble meant attention, attention meant questions, and questions always led back to him the kind of "him" no one was supposed to know about. Back home, the trick to surviving was simple: keep your head low, don't fight, and if things go south, just run. At least the people in his old village were weak and barely knew magic. Physical strength alone gave him the edge he needed to escape anything dumb enough to chase.
But here?
Runebrick was a different beast. This place hummed with magic. Every store looked enchanted, every bystander looked powerful, and even the lampposts looked like they could shoot fireballs if they got annoyed.
Nope. Running wasn't gonna work. Especially not when Professor Lysira had told him to wait right here.
And most importantly, he couldn't afford to look weak.
"Hey, dude," Max called out, squinting at the man like he was sizing him up. "What's your deal? Gottt a problem with daddy? or are you just naturally stupid? look if you come to give your daughter hand i can~"
His tone was light. Careless. Like he didn't care whether the man exploded or dropped dead. It was all part of the act.
Max had learned over the years that if you looked unbothered cocky, even people second-guessed themselves. Most of the time, it worked. Something about his mismatched eyes, sharp features, and that slightly mocking smirk made people hesitate. Call it charm, call it survival instinct either way, it kept him breathing.
The man with the comical moustache squinted his eyes not at all being intimidated or picked up by boys shit talk. Something felt off about the boy's voice. Acting confident and Arrogant. Was this kid someone important? Did he have something behind him? maybe some rick goblin mommy? fheww...
But then again he looked closer. Clothes? Ripped, stained, cheap beyond words. There were small tears everywhere, and even dried blood crusted in places.
A peasant fucker
The man scoffed to himself.
I'm overthinking it. This brat's just trying to act tough. Does he really think i am some peasant to get in bullshit with this bad scam skills?.
But that eye. One blue eyes
They were real.
"If I sell those at Obsidian Market…" the man thought, greed flooding into his pupils. "The witches. The nobles. The old spell-eaters. They'd pay mountains of coin. The Eyes of the Betrayed… they'd kill to study those up close."
His lips curled into a gentleman grin with greed hidden underneath.
What had the world come to?
A grown man in his forties trying to bully a teenager in broad daylight. And not just any teenager. A kid whose supposed "guards" had stepped away for a moment, just to pick up some luggage.
Max stayed in character, lifting his shoulders in a casual shrug his posture dripping with practiced arrogance. His fingers lazily flicked away invisible dust from his tattered sleeve. The classic spoiled-young-master move. The more disrespectful and aloof he looked, the more it sold the illusion. His eyes half-lidded, looking at man through his nostrils as saying 'you're not worth my time' kind of energy.
And then
[ding!
Anger Detected
Disgust Detected
Confusion Detected
Amusement Detected
Nauseas Detected]
+4 MP
+7 MP
+15 MP
...
DING!! DING!!
The system notifications chimed loudly in Max's mind like a symphony of chaos. He barely flinched. This was normal now.
Around them, the market began to shift. People were starting to notice.
Around him, the buzz of the market shifted. Conversations paused. Eyes turned.
Something was happening.
"What's going on over there? Are those two fighting or something?"
A few steps back from the confrontation, whispers broke out like wildfire. A crowd had begun to gather some genuinely curious, others just stalling their errands out of boredom. The noise rippled through the air like a low hum, weaving its way through the stalls and stone-paved alleys of RuneBrick Market.
"Wait… are those blue eyes?"
"No way. And that hair color wait, is it due to magic or read?"
A brief silence fell over the immediate onlookers. Mages and watchmen alike squinted toward Max, tapping into their mana senses.
"Nope. No illusion spell or transmutation i think That's all real."
One robed scholar murmured, tugging at his beard thoughtfully, "I remember those eyes from a textbook… literature says to never befriend those who carry them. Don't stare for too long its a Bad omen."
"But didn't the book say don't harm them? Not even out of fear?" another chimed in, voice unsure.
"Yeah, killing and worse harming them supposed to curse your whole bloodline or something even says to bring bad omen to your family and friends."
A third rolled his eyes. "Ugh, who even believes that crap anymore?"
Still, skepticism didn't stop the palpable unease in the crowd. The air thickened with tension. All eyes were on the man with the W-shaped moustache and the strange boy standing his ground with tired defiance.
Wizards, apprentices, and robed scholars alike slowed their steps. Some paused to watch, murmuring to one another in hushed, calculating tones. Some shook their heads and walked off too busy to be curious. Others stayed, eyes glittering with curiosity, wondering who would throw the first spell.
"Still, this dude's trying to attack a kid in the middle of Runebrick Market. Is he insane? What does he think this is Obsidian Market?"
"What a goblin-brained idiot." someone muttered and the insult passed around like a shared cigarette light careless, but sharp.
The crowd grew denser. Some leaned in to watch others kept their distance. The occasional mage flicked up a recording spell, curious to see if a brawl might break out. But no one interfered.
Among them walked a boy maybe fifteen or sixteen moving with a like a whole market belongs to his father hands stuffed into his pockets, a brown backpack slung lazily across his shoulders. His hair were long, black, and unkempt in a way that looked almost intentional. A black headband with white tribal patterns hugged his forehead, keeping the mess somewhat tamed.
He had seen the whole commotion.
And ignored it.
Not my circus. Not my monkey's and tickets would be expensive was the unbothered chant running through his head as he walked right past Max and the moustached man without stopping.
But then... halfway past the scene, he stopped.
One step. Two steps back.
He reversed gear.
His gaze squinting lips pressed in a thoughtful line as he rubbed his chin. A peculiar glint lit his dark black eyes.
"Kid's an idiot," the boy said leasurely to himself. His voice rang with charm of a king of pocket snatcher talking like he's a old man even tho max is of same age.
He had brown skin that caught the afternoon light like honey, and a crescent-moon earring dangled from his left ear, swaying gently with every tilt of his head. It shimmered with soft enchantment, mood-reactive, shifting colors like a mood ring caught mid-laugh.
"Apologize now, and I might forgive you, furry dude." Max scoffed, arms crossed, his head tilted dramatically toward the sky like he was too majestic to breathe the same air. Every word out of his mouth dripped arrogance, like he was auditioning to be the king of bullshit.
"Why the hell is he still standing there?" Max muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes at the silent man in front of him. "Does he not feel embarrassed? After all that chaos with the Crowd?"
He sighed heavily, flipping his silver hair like it was part of a stage act.
"Ugh, it's so embarrassing to be in the spotlight…" he groaned. "And what's with that stick? No... don't tell me. He's gonna throw that at me, isn't he?"
Then, without warning EYE GOUGE.
The man with the wand raised it slightly, his lips curling into something between a smirk and a threat. He whispered something Max couldn't hear.
Max didn't flinch until he saw a dark yellow light begin to pulse at the wand's tip.
His eyes widened. "Wait, what"
ZAP.
Max barely registered the words before a burst of dark yellow light surged from the tip. His eyes widened too fast. The spell screamed toward him like a comet on caffeine.
Flick!
"Ouch!"
Max yelped not from the spell, but because someone had yanked his silver hair backward with zero grace, forcing his head to snap up.
The spell missed by inches, slamming into the stone wall behind him. The blast left a smoking, two-inch hole where his face used to be.
"W-Was I about to become a donut?" Max croaked, clutching his chest, his heart racing up into his throat.
"Whew. Close one, pretty boy," a voice drawled casually, like this was just another Tuesday.
He turned, dazed, eyes landing on the one who'd grabbed him.
The one holding his hair
Still holding it, by the way
A boy maybe his age stood casually behind him, one hand still in Max's hair. Jet-black hair. Black headband. Sunny grin. And a face that screamed I'm cocky and loving it.
"Next time, dodge," the boy said coolly, still holding onto Max's head like a trophy. "First one's free. Second'll cost ya."
Max didn't answer. He just stood there, blank-faced, the trauma still buffering in his brain. If this was a cartoon, a tiny ghost would be floating out of his mouth.
"You see that spell?" the boy asked, jerking his chin toward the scorched wall.
Max's head tilted slowly, mechanically. He nodded like a broken toy.
Max, lips trembling, shook his head no.
"Well, it saw you," the boy smirked. "And it was waving."
He gave Max the kind of look people usually reserved for confused puppies or malfunctioning vending machines.
Then
"See that stick?" he pointed at the wand still in the mustached man's hand.
"Next time someone aims at you~ try moving. Revolutionary idea right, I know."
Max gave the weakest nod in human history.
"You were spitting dragon shit from your mouth momens ago," the boy teased. "Now you're mute? Just now you looked like a guy screaming, 'I'm a gold coin!' And now? Now you look like scarped copper coin and that too with wide hole in middle."
Max finally snapped out of it, placing a shaky hand on his chest. He had never, in his entire glittering life, come that close to dying.
"Kids these days," boy muttered dramatically, shaking his head like he was narrating a stage play.
But Suddenly
"Who are you?" he hissed, his voice rising in pitch. "You helping the blue eye brat now? You a traitor too?"
He pointed his wand toward the new boy, fury flashing in his eyes.
The boy didn't even blink.
Max flinched. But the boy?
He was screaming I am cocky.
He just leaned closer to Max and said, "What are you, a statue?"
"Ahh" Max croaked. Still stunned.
Max could only grunt.
"Move. You move when someone points a wand at you. I just gave you legendary street wisdom for free," the boy muttered, his tone weirdly street-slick and effortlessly stylish.
Max blinked. Then squinted.
"My hair…"
"Huh?"
"My hair," Max repeated, pointing at the boy's hand still tugging at his silver strands.
They both stared at each other like two idiots in a play gone wrong.
"Ohhh Right. Forgot," the boy laughed and let go. "Sorry 'bout that. Reflexes. You see, I've got a thing for silver. Irresistible. But hey, at least you're alive, right?"
Max didn't reply. He was still trying to reboot his brain.
Meanwhile, the moustached man stared at the two of them like they'd just written a comedy play and excluded him from the cast. His face twitched with irritation.
The crowd? Oh, they were eating it up now.
The tension had turned into full-blown entertainment. Some were betting on what'd happen next. Others just leaned on fruit carts, whispering and giggling.
"Who needs the Lady Goblino dance show at the Ero Hall when you get this and that too for FUCKING free?"
"Yeah, and no entry fee! hehe"
It wasn't just a fight anymore.
It was a show.
And somewhere in that chaos, Max realized two things.
One: He could've died just now.
Two: Whoever this boy was… he had just saved his life.
---