He waited until the boy had entered the room, then calmly cracked open the door, peering through the gap with a feigned look of drunken drowsiness, observing the two guards closely.

"Did someone die? I'd be extremely grateful if you could stop shouting. My head is throbbing, and every peep from one of these idiots makes my brain shake like a drunk's glass," the boy spoke quickly, instantly regretting his awkward analogy.

The guards appeared quite intimidating at first glance. The taller one, muscular and dark-skinned, towered at least two meters high, his eyes dark and penetrating, his hands seeming capable of crushing a skull with ease. His partner, shorter and with pale skin, bore a distinctly malevolent look. Less muscular, yet his very presence was sufficiently unsettling, his expression not that of someone with many friends, perhaps particularly stressed that day.

"We have grounds to believe," Started the taller one, his voice deep and resonant, matching his imposing stature. "that there is a fugitive hiding in your house. We would like to come in and verify, if it’s not an inconvenience."

"A fugi... A... What?" He stammered, dragging his right hand through his hair as if tormented by an unbearable headache. "Why on earth would there be a fugitive in my house?"

"We were in pursuit and saw him enter here. This individual has committed crimes against the National Guard itself, it's our duty to capture him. If you're aiding his escape, we won't hesitate to consider you an accomplice, which, as you know, is a crime punishable by detention proportional to the offense committed. So please, it's better to let us in, or we'll have to force our way into your house."

"I believe there’s a big misunderstanding here," Leo started again. "I assure you, there is no criminal inside my home, good night."

He attempted to close the door, but it was in vain as the smaller guard promptly intervened, obstructing it with his hand.

"We must insist on conducting a search; it's possible he entered without your knowledge. It’s for your own safety." The taller guard explained calmly.

"There's a big problem here, gentlemen, and it's this: I'm informing you that there is no criminal in my house, yet you choose not to believe me. The fact is, I despise being disbelieved," he paused, though the guards stayed silent, so he continued, "I've always grappled with this personal challenge, I detest the idea of being perceived as a liar. Years ago, when I first recognized this issue, I considered various solutions, ultimately devising two effective strategies: The first was, naturally, to avoid lying, so my reputation alone would suffice to make everyone believe what I say, an idealistic notion, which seemed like a sound approach at the time. The second, equally important but more pragmatic, was to become proficient at lying, which I believe requires no further clarification," he paused again, assessing their interest in his narrative, "my point is: I would greatly appreciate it if you two would take my word and depart from my doorstep."

"So, are you essentially admitting to lying?" Asked the taller guard, an ironic smile evident on his face. "Is the fugitive inside?"

"Hmm... Perhaps I am lying, but the real issue is that I can't stand the thought of being perceived as untruthful, even if I really am. It's not like I'm not confessing to any guilt; rather, I'm suggesting that, given my 'condition', it would be better if you believed me, otherwise, I'll feel a deep resentment towards each of you. I'm a kind-hearted person, guards; I take no pleasure in harboring hatred towards anyone."

"I believe you're lying."

"However, I am not."

"You're lying about not lying. We're going to enter your house, and if we find him, you'll be immediately arrested as an accomplice. Your story was very good, but it was evasive and overly ironic, you tried, but didn't confuse me. I'm still convinced you're lying." The officer said, chuckling with satisfaction. "Excuse us, we're going in, young storyteller."

An interesting fact about Leonardo is that he truly hated when people didn't believe his word. Among his various nicknames, the most prominent were Crazy Leopard or simply Crazy. These nicknames suited him remarkably well, as he genuinely embodied a unique kind of madness. It was not the kind of madness one might imagine, like someone throwing stones at those who called him insane, or like the mind of an old woman collecting T-shaped branches and treating them as her own children. His was a refined madness, indescribable by anyone. Leonardo was uniquely crazy, fascinating in every aspect, always having a reason for everything he did.

What neither of the guards knew was that the boy wanted them not to believe him. It was typical, seeking reasons to be angry—a common enough human behavior. However, instigating disbelief wasn't his sole objective; their laughter was the key element, paving the way for him to execute his intricately mad scheme.

By now, the door was fully open, and as the two guards laughed, a moment of distraction was all he needed, along with a bit of strategic gameplay. 

The first move was to take advantage of the relaxed moment caused by their laughter: with surprising agility, he delivered a sharp, precise kick to the groin of the taller guard, immediately following up with a brutal right hook to the jaw. It was enough to wipe the smiles off their faces, bring a few tears to the eyes of the first target, and, of course, knock him out. The smaller guard prepared for combat, reaching for his knife at his waist, but Leonardo's feet were quicker, landing a potent kick to the guard's kidneys, forcing him to clutch the spot in pain and howl. Abandoning the knife, the guard punched Leonardo directly in the right eye, causing immediate swelling. With a quick sidestep, exploiting the opening created by the blow he had just received, Leonardo ended the fight with another kidney kick and a vertical elbow strike, amplified by the curvature of the officer's body, which again had brought his arms to the injured spot in a futile attempt to reduce the immediate pain. 

Seeing him fall unconscious, Leo envisioned himself in a boxing ring, amidst an ecstatic crowd, the announcer shouting: “That’s a Knock Out, really impressive, ladies and gentlemen, LEONARDO 'CRAZY LEOPARD'.”

He had calculated each blow beforehand, knowing he couldn’t win a fair fight against the giant. Thus, he resorted to the most ancient and ruthless tactic to incapacitate a man. The areas he hit don't get much stronger, even if it's a trained soldier over two meters tall. In the end, he had to risk a fight with the smaller one, but his skills were sufficient to "take him down," the numerous self-practices of combat were particularly effective that night.

"One thing you need to learn about me: I always have the situation under control," the boy said, unable to hide his grin of satisfaction."

He rushed inside the house, grabbed a few important items in a backpack, called his friend still hiding in a place no less obvious than under his bed, and turned off the TV. Slipping into a white shirt with some childish design printed on it.

"We need to get out of here for a while, more reinforcements will probably come to check what's happening, and we don't want to be here when they find the two buddies sleeping on my doorstep. You owe me one, you bastard."

"You're a beast, man! How did you knock out those two guys at the same time? He was a giant! No wonder people call you Crazy."

"Shut up, idiot. I'm not in the mood, not today. My day has been really full. Full of crap. Let's go."

"Sorry."

"Don't think I've let this slide, you'll have to explain very well what you've been up to. I hope it's something less trivial than: 'I was in bed with one of their wives.' Because I would be capable of killing you if I had taken such a risk for that, we won't be able to show up here for a long time," He said with a resigned smile. "this is gonna be a real mess."

"I'll explain everything later. Thanks, man. Really."

They darted off, each holding a slice of last night's chicken pizza.