Yuwen's curiosity didn't come from admiration—it came from confusion.
During a quiet night shift, with the convenience store unusually calm and the neon lights humming softly, Yuwen leaned against the counter scrolling through random videos on his phone. A historical documentary autoplayed, filling the silence with grainy black-and-white footage. Crowds. Flags. Speeches shouted with strange intensity.
One face kept appearing.
Yuwen frowned. "Why does this guy show up everywhere?"
Vario, restocking instant noodles nearby, froze for a moment when he heard the name muttered under Yuwen's breath. He slowly turned, his expression tightening.
"That's not someone you get 'interested' in," Vario said calmly, but firmly.
Nyx looked up from the register, sensing the shift in mood. Even the store felt heavier, like the air itself had thickened.
Yuwen blinked, confused. "I don't get it. People listen to him. He talks like a king. Why is he important?"
Vario sighed and set the box down. "Because he's an example of how words can destroy worlds."
He walked closer, voice low, not angry—serious. He spoke about manipulation, hatred disguised as pride, and how one person's ideas poisoned millions. Nyx added quietly how entire families, cultures, and futures were erased because people stopped questioning and started following.
Yuwen's excitement drained away, replaced by discomfort.
"So… he wasn't strong?" Yuwen asked.
"He was dangerous," Nyx said. "That's worse."
The phone screen dimmed, the documentary still frozen on that face, now looking hollow instead of powerful. Yuwen turned it off.
"I didn't know," he said softly.
Vario nodded. "That's why we talk about it. History isn't for obsession—it's for warning."
Outside, the automatic doors slid open as a customer entered, the store's normal noise rushing back in. Life moved on, but Yuwen stayed thoughtful, realizing that some names weren't meant to be admired—only remembered, so their mistakes were never repeated.
Yuwen stayed quiet for a long moment after that. The phone felt heavier in his hand than it should have.
"So people followed him… even when it was wrong?" he asked, voice lower now.
"Yes," Vario replied. "Because it was easier than thinking for themselves."
Nyx leaned on the counter, arms crossed. "Power isn't just magic or strength. It's influence. And when influence is fueled by fear and hate, it rots everything it touches."
Yuwen looked down at the floor tiles, their patterns suddenly more interesting than his screen. "In our world, tyrants are obvious. They burn villages. They summon monsters." He paused. "This one… used words."
"That's why he's dangerous," Vario said. "And why learning history matters. Not to idolize. To recognize the signs before it happens again."
The store's door chimed as a customer entered, breaking the tension. Yuwen quickly slid his phone into his pocket and stepped back behind the counter, but the topic stayed with him. Even as he handed over change and scanned items, his thoughts churned.
Later, when the rush died down, Yuwen finally spoke again. "So strength without kindness… that's just destruction?"
Nyx smiled faintly. "Now you're getting it."
Vario nodded, satisfied. "Curiosity isn't bad, Yuwen. Just make sure it leads you toward understanding—not admiration."
Yuwen let out a slow breath and looked around the store—the shelves, the lights, the people quietly living their lives. "Then I'll remember him," he said, "as a warning."
The night shift continued, but something had shifted. Not in the store—but in Yuwen himself.