Chapter 25 : Green hat

Shirley kept ranting about how Lumian was the cause of the end of her friendship. She waved her arms dramatically, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Do you know how long it took for my bald spot to start growing back? Do you?! I had to wear a cap for months! And my so-called best friends? Gone, all thanks to you!"

Lumian stood there, leaning casually against a lamppost, watching her with mild indifference. Her words barely registered as anything more than a faint noise in his ears. 

He had heard her accusations before and, quite frankly, didn't care. As much as he admired her boldness, something he rarely saw in anyone—he was rapidly growing bored of her incessant ranting.

He sighed, crossing his arms. "Are you done yet, or is there more to this tragic tale of yours? Because honestly, I've got better things to do."

Shirley froze mid-sentence, blinking as if his words had slapped her. "Better things to do?!" she spluttered. "You ruin my life, and you have better things to do?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Obviously." He pushed off the lamppost, taking a step closer to her. "But now that I think about it, why are you here? What exactly is your plan, Shirley? What were you hoping to accomplish by confronting me like this? Did you come to yell at me until I suddenly grew a conscience? Or maybe you're planning some elaborate revenge, hm?"

Shirley hesitated, her confident posture faltering. Her eyes darted to the side, avoiding his piercing gaze. "I—well, I just thought..." she began, but her voice trailed off.

"Exactly," Lumian said, his voice filled with condescension. He took another step closer, looming over her. "You didn't think. You rushed in here, emotions first, without a single thought about what you'd do if you actually found me." His tone sharpened. "So, I'll ask you again: now that you've found me, what are you going to do about it?"

Shirley's lips parted as if to answer, but nothing came out. Her face turned crimson, a mix of frustration and embarrassment. 

Lumian smirked, stepping back. "Just as I thought," he said, waving her off dismissively. "You're all bark and no bite."

Her hands clenched into fists, and she glared up at him. "You're insufferable," she muttered under her breath.

He ignored the insult, tilting his head slightly as he studied her. "You know, you're an interesting one," he mused. "I think I've taken a liking to you."

Shirley's eyes widened in shock, and her face turned an even deeper shade of red. "W-What?!" she stammered, slapping her cheeks with both hands. "W-What do you mean by that? Y-You can't just say that to a minor! Are you some kind of creep?"

Lumian blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her reaction. "What are you even talking about?" he said flatly. "And besides, how old are you, anyway? Shouldn't you be in school?"

Her flustered demeanor shifted instantly, and she frowned. "Maybe school isn't for everyone," she muttered, kicking a loose stone on the ground. 

Lumian raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Instead, he shrugged. "If you say so." 

Shirley looked up at him with a pout. "You seriously lack awareness, you know that?"

Lumian ignored her again, his attention suddenly drawn to something in the distance. Shirley noticed his shift in focus and tilted her head curiously. "What are you staring at?"

Without answering, Lumian pointed toward a shop window displaying a bright green hat. The garish color clashed with the muted tones of the other items in the display, making it stand out like a sore thumb.

Shirley followed his gaze and immediately scoffed. "That thing? It's hideous. No one in their right mind would wear that."

Lumian frowned slightly. "I wasn't asking for your opinion," he said curtly. "It would suit a... friend of mine."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, your friend must have awful taste."

He glanced at her, his expression turning sharp. "I suggest you keep your comments to yourself. Just because I tolerate your presence doesn't mean you can pester me like some annoying housefly."

Shirley's jaw dropped, and she stomped her foot in indignation. "You're the worst!" she shouted before spinning on her heel and storming off. She mumbled something under her breath as she disappeared into the crowd.

Lumian watched her leave, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Kids," he muttered to himself before turning and walking toward the shop.

The store was small, with a sparse number of customers browsing the aisles. Lumian glanced around, noting the lack of security cameras. A subtle grin spread across his face. 

He approached the cashier, a middle-aged woman who greeted him with a tired smile. "Looking for anything in particular?" she asked.

Lumian leaned on the counter, his sharp eyes meeting hers. "You should really invest in cameras," he said casually.

The woman looked confused. "Cameras? Why would we need—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Lumian grabbed her by the back of the head and slammed her face into the counter. The sound of the impact echoed through the shop, followed by the gasps of the few customers present. 

Lumian didn't spare them a glance. He reached over the counter, grabbed the green hat, and calmly walked out of the store, leaving behind a stunned and terrified silence.

As he stepped onto the street, he adjusted the hat in his hand and chuckled to himself. "Not bad," he murmured. "Not bad at all."