At 11:00 a.m.,
Al strolled toward school. His classes still started in the afternoon—special sessions mixed with students who had morning commitments.
But just before reaching the school gate, a group of teenage thugs blocked his path. One had fake blond hair, ripped jeans, and hair oil whose stench rivaled diesel fuel.
"Heh, you're the kid who messed with Young Master Rudi yesterday, right?"
Al paused.
"Which Young Master?"
"Playing dumb now?" the blond thug spat. "A poor street kid like you has the nerve to mess with the heir of the Norvalien family?"
Another thug sneered:
"Your clothes are shabby, your style fake elite. You're just a village kid lost in the city."
Al shrugged.
"Are you done?" Al's voice cut through the air, calm yet carrying a weight that silenced the noise around him.
"You'd better not bother me. I'm not in the mood to lower my level just to deal with people like you. Step aside… unless you want something bad to happen."
He didn't even look back, simply walking forward, intent on passing through.
But the thug scoffed, slapping his own chest roughly as he barked,
"What did you just say, kid? You lookin' down on me? Huh?! You threatenin' me now?"
Al stopped, his gaze still fixed on the school gate just a few steps ahead.
"Why would I look down on someone who's already lowly?" he said flatly, his tone indifferent. "Wouldn't that just be a waste of time?"
"Huh? What the... what do you mean, brat?!" the thug snapped.
This time, Al turned around—his eyes sharp, cold, and piercing.
"Look at yourselves," he said, his voice low but cutting.
"Playing lapdogs for some spoiled rich tantrum boy named Rudi… and you think you still have a shred of pride left? Doing stupid things for money—how pathetic."
His words struck harder than any punch. The blonde thugs froze for a second, some even taking a half step back. The easy arrogance they had at the start had vanished, replaced by irritation and disbelief that this calm-looking kid dared to lecture them.
"Y-You bastard!" the leader roared, face red with rage. "Get him!" he shouted to his men.
Two of the thugs lunged forward without hesitation—
Al's eyes pierced through them, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
He shifted his weight slightly forward, feet apart in a small, precise stance. His right fingers splayed, then clenched into a firm fist. His left hand moved up, balancing in front of his chest.
I told you not to mess with me, he thought.
A flash of crimson ignited in his eyes, a silent promise of a lethal strike.
But before the clash could unfold—
"DUG! DUG!!"
Two swift kicks landed perfectly on chests and bellies. The thugs flew backward like punching bags.
A girl jumped down from the fence, landing lightly on one foot in a martial pose.
"Enough!"
Her voice was loud, clear, filled with moral authority.
Medium-length hair, crisp uniform, eyes sharp with determination. She was Rina—the vice leader of a traditional martial arts group in Makazhar and a member of the Indorosia Martial Arts Association.
"Aren't you ashamed to bully a student in broad daylight? It's disgraceful!"
Al looked at the girl, slightly disappointed that his move had been intercepted. But it seemed it didn't matter—at least he didn't have to expend much effort on such a trivial matter.
The thugs panicked.
"T-That's... That's Miss Rina! Oh my god!"
"Stay out of this Miss Rina—this is our business!"
The blond leader stepped forward.
"Sorry, Miss Rina, but this isn't your concern! It's between this brat and Young Master Rudi."
"Rudi? Rudi Norvalien? What's wrong with him? Where is he? And what does he have to do with this boy?" Rina asked, glancing around frantically, hoping to spot Rudi nearby—but there was no sign of him.
"Sorry, miss. We can't tell you that," one of the thugs replied.
Getting no answer, she turned to Al.
"Hey, you! Is it true what they said? What's your problem with Rudi? Did he bully you, or did you start the trouble yourself?" she pressed, trying to get to the bottom of it.
Al just shrugged lazily.
"I don't even really know who he is. And do you think I have time to cause trouble with him?" he said casually.
That made sense. Who was this boy anyway? There was no way he'd be bold enough to provoke Rudi first. That meant… Rudi must have bullied him. Yep, that's definitely Rudi. Ugh... That spoiled brat!, she concluded, feeling slightly annoyed.
She assumed Al was afraid to start trouble with Rudi. In reality, Al was just too lazy to waste his time.
"So it's clear then, Rudi started it first. Tell him… don't act reckless just because he's from a rich family," Rina said, turning to the thugs and pointing at their leader.
The gesture was enough to make the thugs take a step back. Their courage faltered, and their will to finish Al off was held in check.
Sensing the situation was slipping out of their hands, the thugs slowly retreated, throwing one last warning.
"Oi, brat! Remember our names… and remember, Young Master Rudi won't forget! Don't think this is over!"
And with that, they fled.
Al smirked slightly.
Funny… they never even introduced themselves. How would I know their names?Weird people! He thought.
He thenturned to Rina, reflecting silently.
This girl reminded me of my biological family. Just like them, she seems to judge too quickly—assuming Rudi's in the wrong without proof. Haha… though this time, he actually is.
He exhaled, gazing up at the sky.
So this is what it feels like to be backed up even without solid evidence. Feels nice… but why do I feel so hypocritical?
Rina also looked at the boy she had just helped—Al.
"Are you okay? They didn't hurt you, did they?"
She then realized he was wearing the same school uniform as hers.
"Oh, wait… you're a student here? Why haven't I seen you before?"
Al nodded.
"Yeah. I'm in the afternoon class. And I'm fine by the way. But I think you should worry about them instead—if you hadn't shown up, things could have been worse for them," he replied flatly.
Rina felt a bit awkward hearing that.
"Hmph… acting all high and mighty. Your fate was almost crushed by a gang of thugs! You should be grateful someone helped you."
Al chuckled faintly but didn't want to get too involved. He just gave a small nod to Rina, observing her carefully. A red glint appeared in his eyes, and as if by instinct, information flowed into his mind.
From what he could tell,
This girl was a dominant Vita energy user—a martial artist at an early-stage Practitioner level. Not bad for someone her age, Al thought, acknowledging her.
He smiled faintly and bowed slightly.
"You're right. Whatever it is, I should be grateful. And… thank you," he said sincerely.
"Hmph... That's okay." Rina replied
"Well then, I should get going." Al said.
He then started walking away, but Rina hurried to catch up.
"Wait! What's your name?"
Al paused, hesitating for a moment. But having received help, he answered briefly.
"Al," he said flatly.
"Al…? Just Al? You don't have a family name or clan name?" Rina asked.
Al placed two fingers on his chin, gazing at the sky before looking back at her.
"Family name, huh?" he said casually. "It should be… Virellano, I think."
Rina's expression instantly soured. She stared at Al in silence for a moment, as if he had just told the world's lamest joke.
"Your sense of humor is… interesting," she said, slightly annoyed, thinking he was joking.
"Hm? What's wrong with the name? Does it sound bad?" Al asked lazily.
"Sounds… like a liar, actually," Rina replied. "Ah, never mind. Forget it."
Al could only stare back lazily, expression saying,
Alright, fine. Whatever you think.
Rina then pulled a piece of paper from her backpack pocket, scribbled on it, and handed it to him.
"By the way, this is my number. If they bother you again, contact me right away. Don't hesitate."
Al took it with a neutral expression.
How am I supposed to contact her if I'm ever in the middle of them bothering me? This girl's weird too, he thought.
Yet he simply nodded and thanked her again.
"Thanks."
Rina nodded in return.
"All right, I have to go! I'll remember you—Al, right? Hopefully we meet again sometime."
With that, Rina shot off like a streak of lightning—fast, graceful, almost like a martial arts manga protagonist.
Al glanced at the note in his hand.
"Hopefully not. If you're just here to cause me trouble," he muttered.
He carefully tucked it into his pocket, eyes still half-lidded with drowsiness, yet his steps remained calm as he headed toward school.
---
The clock struck 16:00.
The school bell rang sharply. Students poured out—some rushing to the cafeteria, others staying behind for evening classes, and of course, some celebrating the end of the day—Al included.
He quickened his pace, eager to leave school and head home.
The late afternoon sky was overcast, meaning he should hurry if he wanted to catch a bus or taxi.
But before he could get far, his steps faltered in front of a small jewelry shop along Makazhar Street—not far from his school.
On display was a modest necklace: a crescent-shaped gold pendant adorned with a small moss-green gemstone.
Al's eyes widened slightly at the sight.
"That's…" he muttered.
Without overthinking, he stepped into the shop, catching the security guard, staff, and a few customers off guard—a kid appearing out of nowhere.
Al didn't care about their stares, focusing entirely on the necklace. Something about it caught him off guard.
A magical stone. This stone… it must have come from there, he thought.
He extended his hand toward the display case, channeling a bit of magical energy through the gaps. As soon as the stone reacted, it vibrated slightly—too subtle for ordinary eyes to notice.
Just as I thought, Al murmured internally.
Then a voice called from behind.
"Young man, do you need anything?"
Al turned to see one of the shop assistants approaching him.
"Oh… I'm just looking at the jewelry here," he replied.
The assistant nodded politely.
"In that case, I can guide you," she offered.
Al shook his head.
"No need. I think I've already found what I need," he said, pointing to the necklace.
The assistant blinked, surprised—not because Al seemed incapable. Most young people wandering the streets here were from elite backgrounds, and she recognized his uniform from HIHS, signaling he might be from a wealthy family.
But the way Al appeared suddenly and without hesitation pointed to one of the most expensive pieces? That stunned her, the other customers, and the staff. Especially since he was clearly just a high school student.
His face was cute, his style modest but decent for an elite kid. Is he serious? the assistant wondered.
The murmurs of the customers also grew louder.
"Young man… are you serious?" asked a fashionable middle-aged woman nearby, her posture and proportions striking, scrutinizing him.
The assistant turned along with Al, who nodded affirmatively.
"Yes. This seems perfect," Al said to that woman.
The woman studied him from head to toe, her gaze lingering strangely.
Seeing no further response, Al turned back to the assistant. She explained the necklace and its price: 1.2 billion rupiah—a sum that made other customers gasp.
Al just nodded, reaching for his bag.
The woman stepped closer.
"I'm guessing that's a bit much for you, even for an elite kid here. Your parents wouldn't be happy if you splurged on a necklace like that, right?"
Al turned slightly, his expression calm but a bit puzzled.
"Honestly, I have no problem with that, ma'am," he said innocently. "Thank you for your concern."
Seeing his innocent face, the woman's eyes sharpened, her expression unusual. The assistant seemed to sense something too but didn't dare intervene.
"You seem reckless. Are you really from an elite family in this city? Which family?" the woman pressed.
Al, slightly annoyed by the questioning, replied,
"I don't usually reveal my identity in public. Sorry," he said politely.
He then looked at the assistant, holding a black card—probably a credit or debit card.
"So how does the transaction work? I'm in a bit of a hurry, so hopefully it can be quick," he asked.
Seeing his seriousness, the assistant nodded and explained the procedure.
The woman looked slightly impressed with him, then asked again,
"Young man… at least tell me your name?"
Al's patience thinned, and his gaze sharpened.
"Sorry, ma'am. I don't discuss private matters in public. I hope you understand and won't disturb me here. I'm in a hurry," he said firmly.
He returned to the assistant, following the transaction procedure.
But the woman, smiling strangely, leaned closer.
"You're interesting. Privacy, huh? How about I pay for the necklace… and we can discuss something more private tonight?" she whispered, her tone suggestive—loud enough for Al and the assistant to hear.
Both turned, eyes wide.
"Excuse me? What did you just say?" Al asked, clearly irritated, realizing she was flirting.
The assistant wanted to scold her but couldn't confront the elite customer. Such improper behavior was common among the wealthy, yet it still made her uncomfortable—especially with Al looking underage.
The woman stepped back slightly after Al's sharp response, scanning the surroundings to make sure no one else had heard, then produced a black-gold credit card.
"I'm serious. Whatever you want, I'll buy it for you," she whispered again, tilting forward slightly to reveal a hint of cleavage.
Al shivered but chose to smile—a mischievous, almost naughty smile for someone his age.
He leaned slightly toward her.
"So… you're serious? You'd buy me anything I want?" he said casually.
The assistant gawked in disbelief.
Wow. I just thought I was helping this kid… but he's just as wild. Huh. Whatever, I'm just here to work, she thought, letting them be.
The woman nodded.
"Of course. And you don't have to call me ma'am—just Lucinta. Okay?" She handed the card to Al, brushing his hand lightly.
Gotcha. Hahaha. New toy, she thought with a sly grin.
Al shivered at the touch but didn't resist, simply nodding with a pleased expression.
And so, the transaction was completed.
Not long after, Al was standing outside the shop with Lucinta. From inside, customers and staff peeked out, curious about what would happen between the young, cute boy and the woman.
"Thank you so much Aun… I mean, Sis Lucinta. I didn't expect you to be this generous. So… how should I repay you? And what did you mean earlier by 'something private'?" Al teased lightly.
"Ahaha… so impatient, aren't you? I'll show you later. Hehe. I hope you don't disappoint me," she replied, her voice tinged with excitement. "But I still don't know your name. Can I know it?"
Al nodded, smiling sweetly.
"Ah… my name… Rudi," he lied effortlessly.
"Oh… Rudi. Such an elegant name. I feel like I've heard it before. Sounds quite familiar. Are you from an elite family? Or a big business family?"
"Hmmm… I'll explain everything when we handle things privately tonight, Sis. Hehe," Al replied with a teasing grin. "Not comfortable talking about it here," he added, glancing at the shop where curious eyes were sneaking glances at them.
Lucinta followed his gaze and nodded.
"Oh! Hahaha. You're right. So… shall we go?" she asked.
Al shook his head.
"I need to head home first, Sis. You know, I'm still a student. But tonight… we can," he said confidently.
He reached into his backpack, pulled out a piece of paper, wrote something down, and handed it to her.
"This is my number. Just contact me later. Okay? Honestly… I'm already a bit impatient, hehe," he added, teasingly.
Lucinta's excitement visibly grew, clearly pleased with his antics.
"Alright then. Should I escort you home? Where do you live, Rudi?" she asked.
Al shook his head again.
"My home's nearby. I can take a taxi—no need to trouble you, Sis. Better you use your time to prepare for our private time tonight," he said, teasingly.
Lucinta, almost hypnotized, looked thrilled.
Al gave a cheerful wave and quickly walked away, turning a corner and disappearing into the crowd of the city.
Not long after, Lucinta opened the note. Sure enough, a number was written on it. She saved it under the name 'Rudi' and tried sending a playful message via WhatsUp—a social media chat app.
Within a second, a reply arrived—a business-type contact message reading:
"Thank you for contacting Luna Makazhar Private Mental Health Clinic. How can we assist you?"
Lucinta read the message over and over until it sank in. She checked the contact again—everything matched the number Al had given.
She called it, only to hear a man answering, explaining that it was the contact for a psychological counseling clinic.
She was utterly confused and ended up yelling at the man on the phone, until he explained that she had likely been pranked by the boy.
Reality hit her hard. She could only scream hysterically in front of the shop, furious at being duped—1.2 billion rupiah gone in an instant, and for nothing. Even hiring a paid man wouldn't cost that much.
"You brat… you tricked me! I'll find you! Huaaah!" she shouted, enraged, while people around could only shake their heads.
Even the assistant, previously stunned, couldn't help but laugh secretly, impressed at how clever the boy was. And so, chaos erupted on one side of Makazhar's elite street.
Meanwhile, in a narrow alley, Al was bent over, facing the wall.
UWEKK!!
He had just vomited, overwhelmed by the ridiculousness of everything he had just done.
"You should've contacted a mental health expert instead of approaching me. Fake-boobed man," he muttered, still queasy.
Soon enough, he felt better and hurried to Indra's house, carrying the necklace as a gift for someone he also considered a mother—Indra's mother.
---
Upon arriving at Indra's residence… he knocked on the door.
Hearing the knock, Indra's mother opened the door. Her face lit up as she saw Al holding a small box.
"Oh, Al? You've finished school already?"
"Yes, Auntie, just stopped by quickly."
He handed the box over awkwardly.
"This is for you."
"Eh? What's this?"
"Uh… it's… not important. Just a gift… to thank you for the cake this morning, hehe."
Indra's mother carefully opened it. Her eyes widened at the glittering necklace inside.
"Al… this… this looks so expensive. I—I hope you're not joking. Why?"
She checked the price tag, and though the writing was slightly smudged—no one knew why—it appeared to read twelve million rupiah. It seems that Al modified the price tag before he arrived.
Indra's mother was a little shocked; even that amount was still very expensive for her.
And now Al was handing it to her. She wanted to refuse, but Al had already persuaded her.
"Think of it as a gift from heaven—thanking you for being so good to an orphan like me."
"Al…" her tone turned heavy, tears forming. "But… this is too luxurious. I'm not used to receiving such things."
"Well, if you don't accept it, I'll throw it away."
"Al!"
"Then please accept it, Auntie." Al said, pouting slightly.
"Huff... Alright" she said.
She finally accepted it, clutching it tightly, looking at him with a mix of emotion—gratitude, affection, and a touch of guilt.
"Thank you, dear… I will treasure this as… a gift from my own child."
Al nodded gently.
"Then I must be off."
And with that, he walked away, leaving Indra's mother watching him go with teary eyes.
---
Flashback – Suburban Market & The Lost Child
A blurred memory of Makazhar's suburban market eleven years ago: bustling, simple. The smell of vegetables and spices mixed with vendors' shouts.
Indra's mother—then a young woman—ran a small stall. Occasionally she watched two little boys playing nearby at her stand.
One was a six-year-old boy—his hair messy but his eyes sharp.
The other was two years older, with a cheerful, friendly smile.
"Al, don't run off…"
"Indra, watch him."
"Yes, Auntie!"
Indra's mother beamed as the boys visited. She often gave them leftover coins.
Time passed. Her business improved, and they moved to a larger shop in the market.
"Our finances are stable now. I want a child," she told her husband one night.
"Let's try…"
But fate intervened. Months of trying ended with heartbreak—a hospital report said:
"Your womb is not viable… We suggest you don't hope too much…" the doctor told her.
They decided then:
"In that case… let's adopt. I have two good candidates from a city orphanage."
"The ones who always played near our stall?" her husband asked. "If it's them, I agree. But we can only adopt one,"
"Hmmm, okay. Let's adopt the youngest. He seems to need someone to protect him." she replied.
"Alright, dear," he agreed.
But when they went to the orphanage…
"I'm sorry, ma'am. The child named Al… disappeared a month ago. We've searched everywhere."
She froze, holding the adoption list in trembling hands.
In the end, they decided to adopt Indra—the other boy from the market—despite the slight disappointment. It wasn't too much of a letdown, though, since Indra had actually been one of the children they had hoped to adopt from the start.
Years later, Al returned—now a teenager starting high school in Makazhar City.
Indra and his mother immediately recognized him. They embraced, their reunion filled with deep longing and warmth.
---
Back to the Present
Indra's mother still stared at the necklace in her hand inside the small living room. Then she quietly looked toward the door.
"Al… you really are back, aren't you, dear?"
She held the necklace close to her heart, tears held at bay.
---