Younger Brother

BLOOD SPILLED, NO REGRETS

My right fist swung forward—a straight punch to the bastard's face. He got sent flying, rolling on the ground like a dog hit by a stick. I froze for a moment, unable to believe what my body had just done. Since when had I become this strong? But I couldn't afford to get cocky too soon—because the one who just took that hit was the smallest in the group. There were still four other rabid dogs waiting to tear me apart.

A guy with slicked-back side-parted hair, wearing a white jacket with red trims, charged at me like a mad beast. This time, I didn't back down. Because I knew—

"DOUBLE LEG TAKEDOWN!"

OWL shouted, lunging forward and grabbing the guy's legs, slamming him face-first into the ground. I glanced at him and smirked. I knew—behind me, there was always a comrade.

Three left. I scanned the group and decided to take on the biggest one. Compared to Kiên the raging bull, this guy was nothing. I raised my middle finger straight at him, provoking him like tossing bait to a starving dog. He roared and charged like a rabid monkey, swinging left and right hooks wildly, as if he were swimming freestyle. Those trash punches only hit the air. I seized the moment—when he stepped right into my striking range—

"BOP!"

A straight left punch smashed into his nose, making him stumble back, clutching his face in agony. He was done for. I spun and delivered a roundhouse kick straight to his ribs. Spit flew from his mouth, splattering everywhere. I sneered, mocking him:

"Hey, thought you were tough? Is bullying the weak that much fun?"

I followed up with a right hook to his jaw. "DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THE HELL YOU'RE DOING?!"

A left hook to the other side of his jaw sent him flying onto his back. He clutched his face and bolted—barefoot—like his life depended on it. If there were an Olympic sprinting event for cowards, he'd win gold. Seeing their so-called "boss" turn tail, the remaining dogs panicked and ran after him, vanishing in seconds. I scoffed. An effortless victory.

Seeing the fight was over, Owl let the last guy go. He scrambled away so fast he left his sandals behind. When he reached the middle of the street, he spun around, eyes burning with hatred, tears welling up as he screamed:

"YOU BASTARDS BETTER WATCH YOUR BACK! MY BOSS, DUNG CHÂU, WILL COME FOR YOU!!!"

I picked up a rock and chucked it toward him. In my eyes, he was just a stray mutt barking on the street. He flinched, then ran for his life.

Dusting off my hands, I turned to the two brothers and asked,

"Hey, you guys alright?"

The older brother tensed up, still a little wary.

"I'm fine… But who are you two?"

I shrugged and made something up.

"Just passersby."

Then, I waved at OWL, signaling to leave. Screw these two. OWL and I still had plans to hit the supermarket. But—

A hand grabbed my ankle.

I looked down and saw the older brother kneeling on the ground, clutching my leg so tightly that his nails dug into my skin, drawing blood.

"Hey! Let go!" I yelped, startled.

But he didn't let go. Instead, he bowed down, pressing his forehead to the pavement, as if I were some divine savior.

"Please… help us! They'll kill my little brother!"

A chill ran down my spine. I glanced around—luckily, the street was empty. Scratching my head, I sighed, feeling awkward.

"Alright, alright! No need to bow! I'll help, okay?"

The older brother's eyes lit up with hope. I knew it—I'd have to take these two with me. Sighing again, I waved my hand.

"Fine. Come with us. I'll figure something out."

The older brother bowed at a perfect 90-degree angle, full of gratitude and humility. My face burned with embarrassment, and I quickly pulled him up.

The four of us walked together down the windy road.

After a while, I turned to him and asked,

"Hey, you're the older brother, right?"

He nodded rapidly.

"What's your name? How old are you?"

"My name is Lu. I'm 16."

The fuck?! He's 16? Same age as me? I hesitated, then said,

"Then don't call me 'big brother.' Just call me 'friend' instead."

But he shook his head vigorously.

"No! If it weren't for you, my brother and I would be in the hospital by now…"

I sighed in defeat.  stubborn kid. I turned to his younger brother.

"What about you? Name? Age?"

The boy shrank back, silent—a complete contrast to his brother. After a long pause, he mumbled,

"My… my name is Dị Tật. I'm 15."

…What?!

What kind of parent names their kid like that?! Before I could even react, the older brother quickly interjected,

"Ah, his nickname is Bin. You can call him that."

I nodded. Yeah, Bin sounds way better.

Then, a thought struck me. My company still needed people. Smirking, half-joking, I turned to them and asked,

"Hey, you two wanna join my company?"