The man froze for a moment.
Noel frowned. "What did you say?"
"I… I said, who are you guys?" the man replied, shaking off his surprise.
"I'm Noel," he said. "And this is Ryan."
"Hmm…" he muttered quietly, still studying Noel as if something about him didn't sit right.
"I'm Fenric," said with a calm nod. "Good to meet you. Now… what's the problem?"
"Our bike won't start," Ryan explained. "This place was the closest we could find.."
Fenric nodded and called one of his workers. "Fix their bike first. Fast."
A few minutes later, they found themselves slouched on a dusty old sofa near the corner, watching the mechanic tinker with Ryan's bike while the smell of oil and smoke filled the air.
As they waited, Fenric's sharp gaze drifted back to Noel.
"So… Noel. You smoke?"
"Nope," Noel replied.
"Never tried Nightshade, huh?" Fenric's tone dropped a little, curious but edged.
"No. Like I said, I don't smoke. Never even heard of that brand," Noel said.
Fenric's eyes darkened slightly. He murmured under his breath,
"One drag of Nightshade… and even shadows learn to fear you."
He let out a short, dry laugh — the kind that sounded like both memory and warning.
A faint chill crept down Noel's spine. Something in that line felt off — like he had just brushed against someone's past without meaning to.
Fenric crouched near the bike again, his words hanging in the air like smoke, sharp and heavy.
Eventually, the mechanic wheeled the fixed bike toward them.
Ryan climbed on, revving it once. As Noel moved to hop on behind him, Fenric asked,
"Where's your bike?"
Noel scratched the back of his neck. "Don't have one."
Ryan snorted. "Just say you don't know how to ride."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Noel muttered.
Fenric tilted his head, surprised. "Wait… you don't know how to ride a bike?"
Noel gave a small nod.
Fenric's lips curved faintly. "You're full of surprises."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Noel asked.
Fenric smirked lightly.
"Just looking at you, I'd never have guessed. You've got that 'seen-it-all' kind of face."
Noel laughed. "Guess I just look tougher than I am."
Fenric chuckled, though his expression softened into something unreadable.
"Maybe you are tough — just not in the ways you think."
Noel didn't reply.
"Anyway, I should get going. Thanks for the help."
"Pleasure's all mine," Fenric said with a small grin. "Was good talking to you."
Noel and Ryan exited the workshop. The air outside was cooler, quieter — almost too quiet.
"Strange guy, don't you think?" Ryan said as they rode away.
Noel didn't answer immediately. He wasn't sure why, but that encounter stuck in his mind — the way Fenric had looked at him, like he'd seen a ghost.
"Yeah," Noel finally said. "He is."
Ryan laughed. "Especially how focused he was on you."
"Hm."
"I think he's into you," Ryan teased.
Noel groaned. "Come on, man. You think he's gay?"
Ryan snickered. "Maybe just for you."
"Focus on the road, Sherlock."
Ryan laughed, the sound fading into the rush of the wind. He dropped Noel off at his house a few minutes later.
Noel trudged home, exhaustion hanging off his shoulders.
As he stepped inside, he saw his grandpa sitting on the sofa, reading the evening paper.
"You're late today," the old man said without looking up. "Was there any problem?"
"Ryan's bike broke down," Noel replied with a tired sigh. "We had to wait for it to get fixed."
His grandpa simply nodded, and Noel headed straight to his room. Dropping face-first onto the bed, he mumbled under his breath,
"Nightshade… huh."
—
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the Raze had started digging for information about Noel.
From what he found, Noel was just an ordinary teenage boy — quiet, average, nothing out of the ordinary.
"How the hell could a kid like that stand up to three or four guys?" he muttered, tapping his fingers on the table. "Unless… he's trained."
Still, a sliver of doubt crept in. Was his younger brother telling him the whole truth?
Something didn't add up.
The next day, he decided to check for himself. Walking into the college grounds disguised as a alumni, he kept his distance, observing Noel and his brother from afar. When he asked around about the supposed fight, no one seemed to know anything.
Instead, he discovered something else from a student who knew a bit — his brother had been throwing his weight around, picking fights, and intimidating others in his name. At first, he couldn't believe it; this wasn't what he thought his brother would do.
Later, after college ended and Noel was heading home alone, a car pulled up beside him. The engine cut off, and the window rolled down. He stepped out, eyes locking onto Noel. Noel froze for a moment, trying to figure out what was happening.
"You… Noel?" Raze asked.
Noel studied him carefully. Somehow, just from his look, the way he carried himself… he knew exactly who he was.
"Yeah. How can I help you?" Noel asked cautiously.
Raze pulled out his phone and flipped it around, showing the wallpaper: a picture of him and his brother.
It clicked. Noel's mind raced, bracing himself for whatever was about to happen.
"You think you can mess with anyone you want, punk?"
Raze growled, grabbing Noel by the collar.
"No manners? No respect for life? Punching, challenging… people you don't even know?"
"Don't you dare talk to me about manners or respect for life," Noel shot back, his voice steady but sharp.
"You and your brother? Nothing but cruel. Proud of your power, sure—but that doesn't make you anything more than a carnival of beasts. And your brother? A bastard. I assume you never taught him manners either."
With a shove, Raze sent Noel sprawling to the ground. Dust kicked up around him as he landed hard. For a moment, he just lay there, gathering himself. Then, slowly, he pushed himself up, brushing off the dirt from his clothes.
"So that's how it works, huh?" Noel muttered, eyes narrowing.
"First you make people work like animals… then act like you're superior. I thought you'd be smarter than your brother, but I guess you're the same."
"My brother's well-mannered," Raze snapped, "and he doesn't fuck around like you!"
"Oh, really?" Noel smirked, standing tall. "Now… are you gonna make me lick his shoes too?"
"What?" Raze barked, taken aback.
"Your brother deserves it," Noel said, voice firm.
Raze froze. "Hey… what are you talking about? You've made my brother's life a nightmare! You used to tease him, fight him, and now he comes to me?"
"No," Noel shouted. "Wrong."
He explained everything—how his brother had bullied a girl, made her daily life miserable, why Noel had stepped in, and all the details Raze had never heard.
For the first time, Raze's expression softened. He exhaled slowly, calming down. There was a moment of hesitation, as if he could feel the truth in Noel's words. Somewhere deep down, he sensed his brother had been in the wrong.
Noel stayed down for a moment, catching his breath. Slowly, he pushed himself up, brushing off his clothes. Raze stepped closer, calmer now, as if sensing the truth in Noel's words. He reached out and lightly brushed the dust-off Noel's shoulder. Raze felt the strength in Noel's body—steady, disciplined, aware. Unlike his brother, there was a quiet authority here, a presence that didn't need to shout to be felt.
Raze muttered a quiet apology and gave a nod before climbing back into his car. The engine roared to life, and the vehicle pulled away, leaving Noel alone on the quiet street.
Noel adjusted his clothes, took a deep breath, and let the tension drain from his body. The encounter had ended, but the weight of truth lingered—sometimes strength wasn't about force alone, and sometimes even the cruelest people could be shown a better way.
As he came back home, he noticed Grandpa was not in the living room. He sank onto the sofa and heard Grandpa's voice echoing from the attic.
Curious, he climbed up and found Grandpa standing there with a box he had brought into the attic.
"Oh, you're back."
"You've come home, my kid. How was your day?"
"Just the usual. But… what are you doing up here in the attic?" Noel asked.
"Ah, tomorrow's the weekend. My weapon's getting old and needs some maintenance. This box," Grandpa lifted it slightly, "is my partner—it contains everything I need to fix it."
"An attic, huh… I've hardly ever come up here. Honestly, most of this stuff seems unnecessary to me,"
Noel muttered to himself.
"So, Noel… are you free tomorrow?" Grandpa asked, glancing at him.
"Yeah… but why do you ask?"
"Want to come hunting with me in the jungle?"
"Oh, come on. Last time I went with you, I ended up getting stung by a bunch of honeybees."
"And who told you it was a good idea to throw stones at their nest?" Grandpa replied, half-amused.
"Ah… alright, fine. I'll go with you," Noel said, sighing in resignation.
Later, he went to sleep as usual. The next morning, he got ready alongside Grandpa, and together they headed into the jungle. Grandpa carried a box in his hands. Noel couldn't help but wonder if it contained just a simple hunting rifle.
As they finally found a good spot to settle down, Noel glanced around and asked, "So… what are we hunting today?"
His grandfather chuckled softly, eyes glinting with mischief. "Let's see what fate has in store for us."
They lowered themselves to the ground, the forest quiet around them. Grandpa carefully set the box before him and slowly opened it. Noel's eyes widened as he peered inside.
For a moment, he couldn't even speak. His mind froze. His heart pounded.
There, resting at the center of the box, was a piece of hardware so massive, so imposing, that even just looking at it made his breath catch. On a small, neatly printed page inside, the words were written clearly:
Barrett M82
"Pops…" Noel's voice was barely more than a whisper.
...
......
......
"Where… where the hell did you get this thing?"