It was evening.
Jase was in his room, clean and orderly as always. He wore a tank top and basketball shorts, lying sprawled on his bed, completely immersed in the anime playing on his laptop. The action was insane—he didn't even notice time passing.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang.
From the living room, Jase's dad called out, "I'll get it!"
He walked to the door, opened it, and found a tall, unfamiliar man standing there—sharp-eyed, with a travel-worn bag slung over his shoulder. It was the same man who had come days ago, the one who tried to steal Jase's bracelet.
Jase's dad burped mid-sentence. "What do you want, mister?"
The man gave a strange smile. "Hello, sir. I'm looking for someone named Jase. Is he home?"
Jase's dad raised an eyebrow. "What has he done?"
The man said nothing. Instead, he calmly reached into his bag, pulled out a bottle of water, uncapped it, and took a long sip.
"I was... very thirsty."
Then, without warning, he grabbed Jase's dad's hand and shook it violently.
"What the hell—?" Jase's dad barely had time to react. A strange shimmer surrounded him—and in the blink of an eye, he vanished.
Inside the bottle, Jase's dad pounded against the curved glass, his fists thudding uselessly. The echo of his voice was muted, like yelling underwater.
"JASE! RUN! THIS MADMAN WILL KILL YOU!"
But Jase couldn't hear.
Powerless, his father slid down the wall of the bottle, trembling. Rage and fear twisted his face.
"I'm his father," he muttered to himself, voice cracking. "I'm supposed to protect him… not watch him die like this…"
He clenched his fists again, eyes wet. "Please… someone help my boy…"
The man wiped his lips and walked inside, placing the transparent bottle—now holding Jase's dad—carefully on the living room table.
He searched the entire ground floor, room by room. Finding nothing, he climbed the stairs.
Upstairs...
Jase had just left his room to go pee. Turning the corner, he froze.
The man stood there, holding a cutlass in one hand and a grass broom in the other.
Jase was caught somewhere between laughter and fear.
"A broom? Seriously?"
He turned and slammed the door shut behind him.
Inside his room, heart pounding, he remembered—McLarence had once given him a gun.
Frantically, he searched for it.
CRASH!
The door was sliced open by the cutlass, sending shards of wood and smoke into the air.
The man stepped inside slowly. Jase spotted the gun in his closet.
Their eyes met through the haze.
Bang!
Jase fired.
Nothing.
No flinch, no blood.
Panic rising, Jase jumped out the window. He landed badly, twisting his ankle with a sickening snap.
"Shit!"
He tried to stand but stumbled, pain shooting through his leg. Clutching his ankle, he looked back.
The man was calmly walking toward him.
Jase frantically scanned for his gun—but it had fallen inside when he jumped.
The man raised his cutlass. Jase shut his eyes and screamed,
"PLEASE NOOO!!"
Silence.
Opening his eyes, he saw the cutlass pressed to his skin—but it hadn't cut.
A strange violet glow pulsed from his bracelet, spreading across his body.
The man's eyes widened in shock. He attacked again, slashing rapidly—but none of the blows landed.
"I enchanted this cutlass! Why can't I cut this pickin'?!"
Desperate, he raised his broom, cursed the blade again, and lunged.
Jase dodged—and kicked him in the groin.
The man grunted and staggered.
Jase dashed for the gun, now glowing violet in his right hand—the same hand with the bracelet.
But just as he grabbed it, a sharp twig from the broom pierced his left side.
He screamed but gritted his teeth, raised the gun, and fired.
Bang!
He missed.
The bracelet's glow faded.
The man smiled, rushing forward.
"This artefact is too dangerous," he muttered. "Who gave that bracelet to this little brat? It could boost my power—for what's coming."
But before he could strike—
A bullet flipped 291 degrees in midair and tore through his skull.
He collapsed.
Behind him, in the broken doorway, stood McLarence, gun in hand.
Moments later...
Ding-dong.
Another ring.
"Jase, what the fuck are you doing?! Open this door!"
Jase, groaning on the floor, recognized the voice.
McLarence.
Jase couldn't move. But suddenly, the bottle on the table rattled, and his dad popped back out, gasping for air.
He rushed to Jase's side. "What the heck just happened?!"
McLarence stormed in, gun raised.
"Don't shoot!" Jase's dad yelled.
McLarence holstered his weapon. "I'm here to help."
He and Jase's dad helped Jase inside through the kitchen.
As they moved, McLarence asked, "How the hell does a guy with a cutlass and broom mess you up this bad?"
Jase was out cold.
Later that night...
They bandaged him and laid him in bed.
Jase drifted into a dream.
He was in a strange black-leafed jungle, eerie and silent.
He saw a woman in a traditional kaba, with long hair and glasses.
She turned and ran.
"MOM!!"
He chased her, but the forest twisted around him. Power surged.
Morning.
Jase woke up, aching, bandaged head to toe.
He limped downstairs slowly.
In the living room, McLarence sat half-asleep, phone in one hand, gun in the other.
"You stayed up all night?" Jase asked.
"Yeah," McLarence grunted.
Jase grinned. "So you took care of me. Guess you like me now. Gay-ass energy. And where's the body of that guy from yesterday?"
McLarence rolled his eyes. "Trevis told me to watch your dumb ass and he took care of the body. Don't get too excited—I don't care about your ass."
"If you say so."
"I swear, I'll slap you."
Jase laughed but winced and fell.
McLarence tried to help but was too sleepy and tripped too.
Jase's dad came in.
"McLarence, go home. You need rest."
McLarence groaned. "Fine... Take care, kid."
Back in bed...
Jase's dad tucked him in, looking troubled.
"It's been days... I see you doing strange stuff. Now you're friends with gangsters? I feel like I'm losing control of this house."
"Dad, I don't know what's happening either."
"Oh really?" his dad laughed half-heartedly. "Maybe one day you won't need me. You'll leave me... like your mom did."
Jase's face hardened. "Listen to me. I will never leave you. And I'm not repeating that again."
His dad paused, then chuckled sadly.
"She would've said the same thing... when I was still rich."
He stood and returned with a big breakfast tray.
"Dad…" Jase said softly.
"What?"
"…Never mind."
His dad left.
Jase stared at the food—too much, and expensive.
"How did he even afford this?" he muttered.
His phone buzzed.
Fifteen new messages.
All from the girl he met yesterday.
She was worried. Asking what happened.
For the first time in a while, Jase smiled.
For once... it felt like he mattered.