Chapter 8.2: 5 AM Samaritan

The man stormed into the café like a storm cloud in soaked jeans.

His eyes were wild. His movements unpredictable.

He pointed a metallic object straight at the cashier.

“Empty the register, kid!”

The girl froze. Her fingers hovered over the cash drawer, trembling.

“Oi! Did I stutter?” the man barked, stepping closer.

“Hey!” the father shouted, rushing forward.

The man shifted the object—closer to the girl.

“Take one more step, and—”

“P-Please,” the father begged. “She’s just a kid. Take the money. Just… take it—”

THWACK!

The man shoved him back. The father stumbled, hitting the floor with a grunt.

The mother and son rushed to his side.

“Dad!”
“Honey!”

The girl stayed frozen, eyes wide, tears streaking down her cheeks.

Then the man’s gaze landed on Kaiser.

A tense pause.

“Hey,” the man growled. “You just gonna sit there, skinny man?”

Kai floated calmly beside him.

“See? Even criminals get up early. Learn something,” he said, almost cheerfully.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Kaiser muttered. “How do I get out of here?”

“Get out?” Kai snorted. “Nope. You’re dealing with him—right here, right now.”

Kaiser broke into a cold sweat. “What?! You’re joking! I can’t fight him.”

“Oh yes you can.”

Kaiser slowly grabbed a glass bottle from the table, heart pounding, palms slick.

Fear wrapped around him like a heavy blanket.

“Just… distract, close in, strike smart,” Kai said casually.

“Strike where?”

“Anywhere that’ll make him stop.”

Kaiser exhaled. “…Here goes nothing.”

The man raised the object again.

“Done daydreaming, jackass? Hand over your wallet.”

Kaiser and Kai exchanged annoyed looks.

“We’re broke, dumbass.”

Kaiser cracked a nervous smile. “Listen, man… we’re not so different, you and I—”

SMASH!

He threw the bottle—it hit the man’s face with a loud clink!

“Hey—”

Kaiser lunged. BAM! A solid push to the midsection sent the man stumbling back.

He raised his hands, trying to block—but Kaiser was faster.

WHAM!

A sharp move sent the man sliding across the floor, colliding with a table.

Kaiser collapsed onto the floor with a grunt, winded.

“Ughh… he’s stronger than I thought,” he muttered.

Kai floated over, smirking.

“Not bad… but you’re slow. He’s not a training dummy.”

Kaiser groaned, standing again. “Alright… round two.”

The man charged, swinging wildly. Kaiser ducked just in time.

Kai barked orders like a fiery coach:
“Left! Counter! Don’t flinch—LOW, NOW!”

Kaiser stumbled, catching a sharp bump to the ribs.

But then… something clicked.

The fear melted away.

His body stilled. His breathing evened. His gaze sharpened—focused.

Kai’s grin widened.
“He’s finally found his Flow Sense,” he whispered.

Kaiser moved fluidly, every motion calculated.

Adrenaline surged.

Tunnel vision narrowed his world.
His heartbeat drummed like war.
Time seemed to stretch.

His eyes caught a bowl of soup on the table.

Grab. Toss.

SPLASH!

Hot soup hit the man’s face. He stumbled back, waving his hands wildly.

Kaiser didn’t pause. He rushed, pushed, and ducked under a swing—then tapped him with a swift knee to the midsection.

The man froze, wheezing.

Silence fell over the café.

Kaiser stood, chest heaving. Sweat poured down his face. Shirt wrinkled, arm scraped.

“Ughh… that hurts.”

Kai hovered beside him, smirking.
“Not bad. You didn’t trip over your own feet this time.”

Kaiser didn’t respond.

Around him, the café froze.

The daughter peeked from behind the counter.
The mother covered her mouth, wide-eyed.
The boy clung to his father, who had slowly stood, staring in awe.

They all stared at the teenager who just took down a wild intruder—with nothing but courage, quick thinking, and a bit of chaos.

Kaiser sighed, looking at the rumpled table and scattered chairs.

“…There goes my breakfast."