The White Knight

After my near-perfect strategy for initiating human contact spectacularly blew up in my face, I spent the rest of the day observing my target from a safe distance until, after several hours of intense surveillance, the rusty gears inside my genius brain finally clicked into place.

I had found the light.

Behold: the ultimate, undisputed, universe-conquering strategy...

Bribery via high-calorie snacks.

(Hold on a second, you absolute clown. Didn't you literally scratch this plan off the list earlier today?) my mental roommate immediately chimed in.

Let me cook, okay? Allow me to explain. Based on my meticulous data gathering, I'd discovered that while Amachi didn't care much for normal sweets, the guy was borderline addicted to fruit.

Therefore, there was only one logical solution.

A high-end dessert absolutely overflowing with fruit.

Luckily, I'd spent quite a bit of time secretly practicing my baking skills while trapped in solitary confinement at home, and no, for the record, it wasn't because I was a pathetic, friendless loner desperately searching for ways to kill time.

...

Okay, fine.

Maybe it was.

Don't rub it in.

(Your entire tactical operation is deeply childish, man.)

The voice of my other self echoed through my skull, radiating disappointment.

Well, I am a kid! I silently argued.

(Yeah, yeah. Whatever lie helps you sleep at night.)

Oh?

That was unusual.

He didn't even bother counter-roasting me, and an uncharacteristic retreat like that could only mean one thing: deep down, he knew my fruit-bribery strategy actually had some merit.

So what exactly was the master recipe?

A top-class dessert packed with fruit...

Oh, right.

The old man had a secret stash hidden somewhere in his office, which I'd stumbled across completely by accident a while back, and judging from how carefully Zaw kept the container tucked away, whatever fruit was inside had to be either insanely expensive, insanely rare...

Or both.

Perfect.

(You're seriously planning to steal from the village chief just to bribe some kid into becoming your friend?)

Borrow, I corrected him. I'm borrowing it.

(Without permission.)

Details.

And thus, Operation Absolutely-Not-Theft officially began.

🟡 🟡 🟡

One exhausting baking session later, I was crouching in a highly strategic ambush position behind some bushes, watching Amachi trudge down the main village path while clutching the fruit cake I'd just finished making.

As for what exactly had gone into it?

That was between me, the gods, and whatever poor soul eventually discovered the disaster I'd left behind in the kitchen.

I may have gotten slightly carried away.

...

Okay.

Very carried away.

I'd originally planned on using just a little of Zaw's secret stash, but somehow I'd taken enough that the container was now noticeably emptier.

Like...

criminally emptier.

I stared down at the cake and, for one terrifying moment, imagined Zaw opening his stash later and realizing exactly how much was missing.

...

Yeah.

I was going to die.

Probably not today.

But eventually.

(You know, friendship really is beautiful, especially when it costs you your inheritance.)

Shut up. It'll be worth it.

Hopefully.

Because if Amachi hated this thing, I wouldn't just have failed to make a friend; I'd have robbed my adoptive father for absolutely nothing, which somehow felt significantly worse.

My heart was hammering so hard that I felt like some nervous schoolgirl preparing to confess to her upperclassman on graduation day.

(Oof. The coward sensors are off the charts. I can literally smell you preparing to chicken out.)

I know, alright?! I hissed internally. I'm just building up momentum before I go say hi!

Unfortunately, right before I could finally gather enough courage to step out of the bushes, two guys suddenly crossed the path and blocked Amachi's way.

Wait a minute.

I recognized those generic haircuts.

Those were Shane's lackeys.

The two whispered something to Amachi before surrounding him and steering him toward a narrow, secluded alley between the old granary buildings, which immediately sent every survival instinct I possessed screaming.

Those guys were absolutely up to no good.

Channeling my inner ninja, I killed my footsteps and slipped down the alley after them, pressing my back against the cold stone wall before carefully peeking around the corner.

The second I did, my eyes nearly popped out of my skull.

Amachi was getting his teeth kicked in.

"You little wimp!" one lackey snapped as he threw another punch.

"Loved acting tough and picking fights with us, didn't you?!" the other added.

The two were ganging up on him while spitting out exactly the kind of pathetic thug insults you'd expect from idiots beating someone up in an alley.

These absolute brain-dead punks.

Why did people even do this kind of thing?

I genuinely couldn't understand the logic behind small-time bullies. Did they really need to drag someone else into the dirt just so they could feel taller?

But more importantly...

Why the hell wasn't Amachi fighting back?

He never hesitated to throw hands when Shane was around, and after seeing the kind of physical conditioning he'd built from smashing boulders at midnight, he should've been able to handle these two pieces of human garbage without much trouble.

Then a wild thought struck me.

Wait.

Could this be...

the golden opportunity?

This was it.

The classic narrative trope.

All I had to do was rush in, interrupt the beatdown, and assume the role of the heroic knight in shining armor rescuing the tragic protagonist.

Maximum impression points were practically guaranteed.

Okay.

Deep breath.

Here I go.

...

Any second now.

(Are you waiting for a pigeon to land on your head and eat breadcrumbs?! Hurry the hell up and help him!)

Hey! Cut me some slack! I have exactly zero actual fighting experience! I screamed back inside my head. I'm a strict pacifist! Normally, I would've run away with my tail between my legs five minutes ago!

(So you're just going to stand there and watch your ticket to Hilbert get pulverized?)

Ugh.

The jerk inside my skull was, unfortunately, completely right.

My original plan of luring Amachi in with baked goods wasn't guaranteed to work anyway, so screw it.

Let's take the gamble.

If I got beaten into an infirmary bed, I'd just fall back on the cake plan afterward.

Assuming I still had teeth.

I sucked in a massive breath, stepped out from behind the stone wall, and revealed myself.

"Stop right there!" I yelled, forcing my voice down an octave. "Ganging up on someone in an alley? That's exactly the kind of pathetic behavior I'd expect from a couple of bed-wetting toddlers!"

Flinch.

The two lackeys froze mid-swing and slowly turned their heads toward me.

"Hey, who the hell do you think you are?" Lackey A growled as he stepped away from Amachi with a genuinely terrifying scowl. "Mind your own business. We're busy here."

Gyaaa! He's terrifying up close! This is completely off-script! Crap, crap, crap, what do I do?!

(Puff out your chest and act natural! Talk down to them like some high-tier anime villain! Act like a real man!)

My other self cheered me on with absolutely useless confidence.

Dammit, that's easy for you to say! Look at the math here! There are two of them, and in my entire fourteen years on this earth, I have never once willingly started a physical altercation!

This was bad.

If I stayed frozen much longer, I was going to get beaten into literal paste, so I had to bluff and somehow scare them into backing off before they realized I had absolutely no idea how to fight.

"H-hmph... Y-You... D-Don't you even know who I am?" I stammered in what I desperately hoped sounded like a powerful villain voice. "Then I guess I'm not surprised you'd dare speak so arrogantly to my face!"

"This little punk looks like he's actively searching for a death wish," Lackey B snarled, cracking his knuckles as he stepped over to join his partner. "You see Shane isn't around and suddenly think we're pushovers, huh?"

Oh, shit!

It didn't work.

The intimidation check had completely failed.

And right there, in that exact life-or-death crisis, my brain—with its magnificent IQ of exactly 110—kicked into maximum overdrive as every scrap of novel knowledge I'd accumulated over fourteen glorious years suddenly coalesced into one desperate idea.

"Hehehe..."

Both lackeys frowned.

"Hahaha..."

"What the hell?"

" HAHAHAHAHAHA!! "

I erupted into the most unhinged villain laugh I could possibly produce, letting the sound echo dramatically through the narrow alley until both thugs actually flinched, their threatening expressions melting into pure confusion.

"What the hell is wrong with this guy?!" Lackey A snapped, taking a cautious step backward. "What are you laughing at?!"

And somehow...

I stopped shaking.

I puffed out my chest, crossed my arms, and looked down my nose at them with the most smug, untouchable expression I could manage.

"Let me explain some basic logic to you two cavemen," I said, my voice surprisingly steady now. "Take a good look at my face. I'm Fourth—the adopted son of the village chief, Zaw."

The two lackeys froze as their tough-guy expressions disappeared almost instantly.

Lackey A swallowed hard and nervously glanced toward his partner. "W-wait... Shane said the old man's kid was just some quiet nobody..."

"I am a quiet nobody because I value my peace," I snapped, pointing dramatically at them, "but right now, you two are disrupting that peace."

I paused for effect.

"So here's how this script plays out: you're going to take your hands off Amachi, turn around, and walk away."

Neither moved.

I kept going.

"Because if you don't, I'm marching straight back to the main office and telling Zaw every single detail of what happened here—your names, your faces, and exactly how many times you kicked his son's classmate around in some dark alley."

I gave them my best threatening stare.

"So, what's it gonna be?"

The silence was deafening.

Lackey B slowly lowered his fists, his face suddenly pale.

"Man..." he muttered, glancing toward the alley entrance. "Screw this. This isn't worth getting on the chief's bad side."

"Yeah," Lackey A muttered. "Let's get out of here."

Without another word, the two petty thugs spun around and sprinted out of the alley like their pants had spontaneously caught fire.

The area fell completely silent, leaving me standing there with Amachi and, of course, the giant fruit cake still clutched in my hands.

For several seconds, neither of us said anything.

Amachi sat against the wall, bruised and covered in dust, while I stood several feet away holding a dessert I'd practically committed a felony against my adoptive father's secret stash to create.

...

Okay.

I had successfully rescued him.

Now came the difficult part.

What the hell do I do now?